The Guest

The Guest

Young man,
Let’s have chat.
I would like to hear,
That voice of your’s…

With a simple phrase,
Or a lone word,
Pay me a visit,
On the sixth floor.

I’ll greet you,
At the square table.
We’ll brew some tea.
It’ll be warm, inviting.
You’ll say:
“This room is small.”
You’ll ask:
“Will there be any girls?”
Today it will be,
Just you and me.
Have a seat comrade,
We’ll chat.

“What times!”
“What strange days!”
“We are being devastated!”
“…Or are we devastating?”
I will ask you.
And you will respond:
“We are winning.:
“Our path is true.”

Yet, wherever you look,
It’s enemies, enemies…
Wherever you go,
I say to myself:
“Run faster!”
“Run quicker!”
“You have to say that I’m right!”
And you’ll respond:
“Comrade, you are mistaken.”

Later we’ll chat,
About poetry,
It’s always a topic of conversation,
Later you’ll say:
“I have to go.”

I’m again alone,
And once again,
The world enters my room,
I touch it with my finger,
Sing a song about it.
Make a small dab,
Then I retreat…
I see that the world is squinting,
Then it opens its eyes wide.

Then I will hug it,
Hold it close.
It’s round, big,
And my,
Departed guest,
Will be waved off,
By the two of us.


-Vsevolod Bagritsky (Translated by me)

I definetly need to come back to this one. Parts of it still sound awkward to me.


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