Alec Vagapov

Stars little stars, you're so high and so clear!
What have you got in you, so fascinating?
Stars, deep in thought, so discreet you appear,
What is the power that makes you so tempting?

Stars, little stars, you're so dense and so solid!
What is it that makes you so great and alluring?
How can you,  heavenly  bodies, afford it:
Stirring a thirst and desire for learning?

Why, as you shine, are you  nice and inviting
Into your wide open arms, on the instant?
Pleasing the heart, so benign and enticing,
Heavenly stars, so remote and so distant!

Are you still alive, my dear granny?
I am alive as well. Hello! Hello!
May there always be above you, honey,
The amazing stream of evening glow.

I’ve been told that hiding your disquiet,
Worrying about me a lot,
You go out to the roadside every night,
Wearing your shabby overcoat.

In the evening darkness, very often,
You conceive the same old scene of blood:
Kind of in a tavern fight some ruffian
Plunged a Finnish knife into my heart.

Now calm down, mom! And don’t be dreary!
It’s a painful fiction through and through.
I’m not so bad a drunkard, really,
As to die without seeing you.

I’m your tender son as ever, dear,
And the only thing I dream of now
Is to leave this dismal boredom here
And return to our little house. And how!

I’ll return in spring without warning
When the garden blossoms, white as snow.
Please don’t wake me early in the morning,
As you did before, eight years ago.

Don’t disturb my dreams that now have flown,
Don’t perturb my vain and futile strife
For it’s much too early that I’ve known
Heavy loss and weariness in life.

Please don’t teach me how to say my prayers!
There is no way back to what is gone.
You’re my only joy, support and praise
And my only flare shining on.

Please forget about your pain and fear,
and don’t worry over me a lot
Don’t go out
to the roadside, dear,
Wearing your shabby overcoat.