by Tatiana Daniliyants
     translated by Katherine E. Young

          Talk to me /Like lovers do
                                  — Annie Lennox

Talk to me
in the language of birds
in the language of sleep
in the language of forgetfulness
in the language of a forgotten tongue
in the language of a parchment from Carthage.
Talk to me
in the language of a cricket
in the indistinct darkness.
Be bread / wine / water for me
lentils / gunpowder / fire.
Be for me
the skin of the earth
the skin / blood / bone
of conversion
be the flesh of trans-
formation.
Talk to me.
Talk to me.
Be my
source of light.

from the cycle Four Hearts / Serdtsa Chetyrëkh: Serbia

by Tatiana Daniliyants
     translated by Katherine E. Young

1

When I say the name: Velestovo,
I think of deep blue.
Of blue stretching from sky to sky.
Of the matte sun in luminous pools.
I think of the aroma of fresh-brewed coffee,
the smell of fresh-baked bread,
the gentle herd driven to the sound of bells . . .
I think of the chill of an August night,
the chill of the poetry of Cyril and Methodius,
the chill of love.
When I think of deep blue,
I say the name: Velestovo.

2

When I say the name: Velestovo,
I think of deep blue.
And of the people without whom
my life would be diminished.
Your tenderness, Velestovo,
the scent of the lake’s spirit,
the living water,
all rise up to my heart in blue.
In blue I find harbor,
and berth, dock,
and haven.
Your goodness, o blue!
When I think of deep blue,
I say the name: Velestovo.

from the cycle Four Hearts / Serdtsa Chetyrëkh: Macedonia

by Evgeny Stepanov
translated by Anna Halberstadt

rhymed thoughts
what do have they do with poetry?

rhymed gibberish
what does is it have to do with poetry?

rhymed delusions
what do they have to do with poetry?

poetry’s — music
Paradjanov
Ioseliani
Bunin’s Parisian prose, after all

2014, 2018

by Evgeny Stepanov
translated by Anna Halberstadt

brief delay
a gentle rose will awake in the spring
and me?
grinding of cars in Chicago subway
reminds me of the watch hands of my heart
I accomplished 1% of what I had  planned
even though my brain wasn’t asleep ( and is not )
for a mere second
sleep is office
sleep is my creative lab
life is a dream
it seems all of it I just saw in a dream
so be it
most importantly —
a meek rose will wake up in the spring