Poems

A Poem of the Hammer and Sickle

Our former motto – 
Which didn’t allow one to look back at their past! –
Was ‘Go, go!’ [lit.‘Forward, forward!’]
Our state emblem  
Was hammer and sickle.
We were proud of that!
We were so proud
That were close to bursting
Not able to contain ourselves
In the Soviet Union’s borders.
Of course,
It is better to be proud [=brag]
Of instruments of labour,
VS ammunition.
(Labour [=toil] is indeed, 
the most precious, sacred occupation).
…However,
Their sharp sickle! –
Was cutting down
People!
Not grass and crops.
(My blood,
That poured like water,
Was sucked into [the Earth.])
Their hammer
Hit on my head
And grounded me.
My vertebral column was smashed,
And my tibia shattered…
…Why we
Keep deceiving ourselves 
Saying this and that?
Their sickle 
Has mowed us down
With such a rigour – 
We can’t grow [=multiply] ever since.
When we talk today
We [brag that we] are all-valiant,
All-batyrs.*
Oh God,
Their hammer! –
Grounded us so hard
That we are still –
Underground
We are not pulled out.
 
* Batyr – originally term for ‘hero’ or ‘valiant warrior’, roughly equivalent to the European knight; nowadays the term signifies military or masculine prowess.

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