The Jolt by Anna Prismanova

The jolt must come from far away:

the start of bread is in the grain.

A stream, although still underground,

aspires to reflect the sky.

 

A future Sunday’s distant light

reaches us early in the week.

The jolt must come from far away

to trigger earthquakes in the heart.

 

A shoulder alien to me

controls the movement of my hand.

In order to acquire such strength,

the jolt must come from far away.

 

by Анна Семёновна Присманова (Anna Semyonovna Prismanova)

a.k.a. Анна Симоновна Присман (Anna Simonovna Prisman)

(late 1930s or early 1940s)

translated by Boris Dralyuk


 

Fun fact: She is considered comparable to her contemporary, the American poet, Louise Bogan.

Living in the Moment by Piet Hein

To live in the moment’s a well-worn routine

that most of the world has perfected;

for some, it’s the moment that’s already been,

for others, the one that’s expected.

 

Yet no sort of magic can kindle anew

a past that is over forever,

nor summon the future before it is due:

our moment is now – or it’s never.

 

So brief is the moment in which we may live,

and future or past it isn’t.

Whoever would know of what life hast to give

must gratefully welcome the present.

 

by Piet Hein a.k.a Kumbel (1905-1996), Denmark

No More Europe, No More America by Georgy Ivanov

No more Europe, no more America.

The end of Tsarskoye, of Moscow, too.

A fit of nuclear hysteria –

life atomized into a radiant blue.

 

Transparent, all-forgiving haze will stretch

over the seas. And he who could have done

something yet chose not to, will be left

in the expanse of pre-eternity, alone.

 

by Георгий Владимирович Иванов (Georgii Vladimirovich Ivanov)

(1953)

by Robert Chandler

A Carol for the Coalfields by Idris Davies

From the moors of Blaen Rhymni down to the leaning wall

Of Caerphilly Castle you shall hear the same accents

Of sorrow and mirth and pride, and a vague belief

That the future shall be greater than the past.

 

The man in the Rhondda Valley and the man in Abertillery

Have shared the same years, the same days of hope and desolation,

And in Ogmore Vale and in Ammanford both old and young dream

That the future shall be greater than the past.

 

On the ragged hills and by the shallow polluted rivers,

The pious young man and the old rascal of many sins,

The idealists and the wasters, all sometimes believe and say

That the future shall be greater than the past.

 

Mothers praying for sons away in the wars, and mothers waiting

On doorsteps and by firesides for men coming home from the pits,

And the old folks bent and scarred with years of toil, all sometimes hope

That the future shall be greater than the past.

 

Last night the moon was full above the slag heaps and the grave-yards

And the towns amongst the hills, and a man arose from his dream

And cried out: Let this day be sufficient, and worthy of my people

And let the night winds go on wailing of the future and the past.

 

by Idris Davies

Living In The Moment by Piet Hein

To live in the moment’s a well-worn routine

that most of the world has perfected;

for some, it’s the moment that’s already been,

for others, the one that’s expected.

 

Yet no sort of magic can kindle anew

a past that is over forever,

nor summon the future before it is due:

our moment is now – or it’s never.

 

So brief is the moment in which we may live,

and future or past it isn’t.

Whoever would know of what life hast to give

must gratefully welcome the present.

 

by Piet Hein (1905-1996), Denmark