Среда, 24.04.2019
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Secret Uzbek (BG)
We held out so long like only could
But hither and thither – utterly forgot the pin-code
And now we glide, not touching the ground
And we're beating into the wall, although with the birth knew where the entrance
But a hard time of doubts came and gone
Hand of glory burned down, and the ashes is scattered, and the blend
Is poured out. And to the one, who here is holding the oar
Inform that Secret Uzbek already is here
Three old women in the basement, wrapped in rags,
But ones spinning a precious thread
Know, like knows the one, who drinks, leaning on a lance
And as know all the ones to whom by nothing and not what for to drink
So trumpet onto the whole endless steppe
Through burning fog and turbid-green slurry
To ones, who are mining salt and endearingly are sowing bread  
Whisper to them that Secret Uzbek already is here
He is not "for", he is not "against", he is busy with other, as Bashō
He does not dispose of nobody's fate
Just where he appears, all
Happens like of itself
So transmit to all those who long was arched by an arc   
That there is no sense in concealing longer stupidity and greed and arrogance
And it is senseless to pretend that you're someone else
When Secret Uzbek already is here
And even if to us all to lock oneself up in the deaf jail
To burn out airplanes, to disband the trains 
This quite won't prevent him  
To get over from there-where­-he-is to us here
And I repeat that this is not a reason to sob and to shout
Everything will remain just such as all is
And the ones, who know in what is affair, know and will be silent
Because Secret Uzbek already is here

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