Prison

"The darkness began to chirp again like a gray rain,
The sky is once again entangled in a web of branches.
But autumn won't be followed by winter.,
The long-awaited summer will not come for spring.

We don't have to share bread or a bed in half.,
My tongue is in my mouth, and my teeth are on the shelf.
In my wet kingdom, there are chambers in the corners,
There are grey wolves in precious collars.

I will punish the pine tree to identify the executioner.,
I'll tell birch about the bleak lot.,
Because trees can be silent.,
Because trees also live in captivity.

You didn't broadcast, you didn't torture the letters.,
Don't be afraid that maybe I'm still living somewhere else:
Winter won't come after my November,
And my May will not be followed by summer."

(A. Gorodnitsky)

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