victory day

by Grigory Starikovsky
translated by the author, edited by Marisa Alvarez

trenched acres, copious crops,
a vigorous guard, his upturned nose,
saber-toothed memory is ablaze,
bayonet polished to shine.

may insects dash against the
windshield leaving yellow and
sticky trails, the rain will wipe it off,
even the dust we mourn.

candle-end, homebound flicker,
like a head bent to the side,
look at me, i’m a persian king,
i have my immortals too,
i will not tell you who they are.