Maria
The most powerful and impressive poem which I have ever read. Barbarity. Musa Dzhalil (1943). Part 1 It is so sad that Italki permits to use only 2500 symbols in an one note. So the last part will be in next note. They drove the mothers with their children And made them dig pits, but themselves They stood, a heap of savages, And laughed by/with (?) hoarse voices Near the edge of an abyss they lined up Powerless women, skinny little kids. The tipsy major came and with the copper eyes Looked over the doomed… The muddy rain Buzzed in the leaves of the neighboring groves And in the fields, clothed by a mist... And storm-clouds went down above ground, Driving one another in a rage... No, I will not forget this day I will not forget it for ever and ever I saw how rivers cried like children And how the mother-earth wept in a fury With my own eyes I saw How the sorrowful sun, washed with tears, Through the thundercloud went out to the field And kissed the children for the last time The last time… The autumnal forest was noisy. It seemed, that now It went mad. Its leaves Raged angrily. The mist thickened (?) around. I heard: the mighty oak suddenly tumbled down It fell, giving off a heavy breath. The children were suddenly seized by fear, They cuddled their mothers, clinging to the skirts. The acute sound of shot resounded Interrupted the curse, That broke from the one woman The child, the very sick kid, Hid his head in the tucks in a dress Of the still not old woman. She Watched, full of horror. How not to lose her mind!
Nov 8, 2014 6:19 PM
Corrections · 2
Great job, Maria!
November 15, 2014

The most powerful and impressive poem which I have ever read. Barbarity. Musa Dzhalil (1943). Part 1

It is so sad that Italki permits to use only 2500 symbols in an one note. So the last part will be in next note.


They drove the mothers with their children
And made them dig pits, but themselves
They stood, a heap <em>(perhaps "group")</em> of savages,
And laughed by/with (?) hoarse voices
Near the edge of an abyss they lined up
Powerless women, skinny little kids.
The tipsy major came and with the copper eyes
Looked over the doomed…
The muddy rain
Buzzed in the leaves of the neighboring groves
And in the fields, clothed by a mist...
And storm-clouds went down above ground,
Driving one another in a rage...
No, I will not forget this day
I will not forget it for ever and ever
I saw how rivers cried like children
And how the mother-earth wept in a fury
With my own eyes I saw
How the sorrowful sun, washed with tears,
Through the thundercloud went out to the field
And kissed the children for the last time
The last time…
The autumnal forest was noisy. It seemed, that now
It went mad. Its leaves
Raged angrily. The mist thickened (?) around.
I heard: the mighty oak suddenly tumbled down
It fell, giving off a heavy breath.
The children were suddenly seized by fear,
They cuddled their mothers, clinging to the skirts.
The acute sound of shots resounded
Interrupted the curse,
That broke from the one woman
The child, the very sick kid,
Hid his head in the tucks in <em>(or "of")</em> a dress
Of the still not old woman. She
Watched, full of horror.
How not to lose her mind!

November 15, 2014
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