Yana Djin: The Dead Don’t Die | The Poetry of Dmitry Melnikoff
And they lie at the edge of light alone
at the place where snow never hits
Kahlo embraces Diego’s barebone
and they emanate heat.
Yana Djin: Tender are the nights
Tender are the nights spent in a haze.
Stone-cold the days. Sharp-cut.
In this city that reflects the rays
against its windows — constantly shut.
Yana Djin: And when I looked up at the sky
And when I looked up at the sky —
hazy and blind.
With the crescent purple and yellow like an eye
after a fight.
Yana Djin: Church Bell
A mere splinter I am,
a mere speck
without you
and your light.
Yana Djin: We will walk in the Riverside Park
We will sit hand in hand on a bench
old and pure,
sinful, human, drenched
in life that offered no cure.
Anna Akhmatova: Lot’s Wife
“It’s not too late, you can still look back
at the red towers of your native Sodom,
the square where once you sang, the spinning-shed,
at the empty windows set in the tall house
where sons and daughters blessed your marriage-bed.”
Yana Djin: Love
what i have asked, Lord, you have granted
thank you for the days
and nights
for the rays
that fall slanted
across the face
Yana Djin: April Elegy
again April is here
with its sun of brass
and its moon of steel
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Yana Djin: “Days are so slow, adoni, so slow”
Days are so slow, adoni, so slow, each moment like eternity spreads and lingers In the dusk leaves like golden suns shiver and glow, and you lie still, watch the … Continue reading
Yana Djin: Sheep
I saw as they led my children away. To slaughter. One by one. I saw the sharp terror in the eyes of my daughter. As the master grabbed her by … Continue reading
