Kira Rodionova

October 20, 2004 - the outskirts of Moscow
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My land’s orphan

Peaches heated by my sun
A dress so simple and so cotton
Would that child ever come
Back home
Where she is forgotten

Would the wind caress the ankles
Like it did so many times before
Would that land eventually remember
That her daughter is left outdoors?

Should I wait? Should I move on?
Should I cry? Should I be strong?
A child shut without answer
Her helplessness comes with my anger
All dark. My will abruptly mute.
No reason to continue happiness pursuit

But stubborn as her mistress is
My adolescence still exists
Amid dust and wide highways
Amid foreign interplays
My youth is blossoming her ways

And only at night time
Where no one is there
All of my thoughts decide not to care
they quickly get up
they dress up
and they flee
back to their motherland
where they have met me.
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