/gunshot window/ | final version

translator:  Ivan Berezhnyi

translated poem: /gunshot window/ -  Ivan Berezhnyi
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put the children to bed
don’t come close to the window
the war is still walking around
behind the gunshot window
behind the shattered glass
there are stray dogs’ corpses
stray people’s corpses
their voices’ corpses
behind it
are broken building bricks
and ruins of progress
and the stink of repression
that has lingered in our clothes
there are women’s moans
and infants’ cry
and ripped off limbs
stacked in a row
behind it
is a deaf conductor
hung on a cello string
an exhausted mortician
locked in his own coffin
a doctor chopped in half
in a basement in the middle of a surgery
a child raped to death
a nation raped on live
behind the gunshot window
there is blood on the poems
of murdered poets
who didn’t have time
to find rhyming nouns
there is blood on the paintings
of murdered artists
the blood is now playing
in everyone’s headphones
blood at your work
blood at your school
they’re giving it out
must not exceed
three liters per person
the blood is raining from the sky
the blood is dripping from the taps
there isn’t enough blood
for our wounds anymore
so let the kids sleep
and let them see dreams
about an imaginary
yet calm spring
let the sun
not wake them up too soon
through the window glass
because there will still be war behind it
tomorrow

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