by Eli Sigelman
Was it love or was it bribe
Maybe whisper, maybe cry,
Maybe work of ancient scribe.
May I kiss you, do not shy.
We are very old, indeed.
Sure, timeless cherry pie…
We did chose the wrong gambit –
Modern culture’ guess and lie.
I remember local butcher,
Who dismembers pigs and cows,
Rusting dreams about future,
Demolition of my house.
Lunatics are hunting people.
Thinking murder is a hobby.
Their sickness very simple:
Game of blood and lifeless bodies.
I still hear waltz of Strauss,
Town’s park and dance arena,
Lost forever looks and sounds,
Nazis marching in Vienna.
Freedom loving stupid dummies –
Huge behinds don’t fit the chair.
Dedicated doctors’ army
Is destroying hopes for care.
I recall songs from the ghetto,
Warsaw, Vilna, words in Yiddish,
Imre Kálmán’s operettas,
Brighton mimicking Odessa.
Salty memories of oceans,
Slices of reincarnations,
Smells of air in Land of Goshen,
Revolution’s red carnations.
Gods are humans in disguise
Asking questions and discussing:
Why the fathers must be punished
For the sins of their children?
Why the mercy right for judgment
Is desire for forgiveness?
But they cannot find the answer,
Brave solution for disaster:
Very soon new prays and language
Will be spoken by this country
Rooster will propose to rooster.
We approved this type of marriage/
Eggs adoption – ego booster.
Who will keep the kingship lineage?
Gods watch humans and despise
Contemplating final motion.
In my old unwritten novel
Touch of lips was sweetest extra
Consonants and lovely vowels.
Kaiser-Walzer play orchestra!
Эли Сигельман - Стихи и Проза 