Borekh Olitzki (Baruch Olitzky)

A

Like fish with mother of pearl
clouds swim in the cool sky
and from their feathers flow
drip drops clouded with the sun
into the dark mouth of earth
A bright lit swallow circles quietly up and up
hooked on a circling whirlwind
Every tree is loaded with green earth
with blue joy and secrets from the West.

Spring-life! Look, look:
You are being welcomed by White Russian towns
with pails empty to their bottom
Unemployment greets you keeping track
with froth on mouth where hungry children
with blistered skin and dark worms’ nest
stick into the walls of the closets

B

A loud radio delivers to the open palms of leaves
through air and streets throughout the world
with grey sacks behind eyes with fevered fingers
to choke someone’s neck…
Young folks drink every evening on this street, the wine
from Barcelona and sing Yiddish folk songs in Minsk

And the last bit of joy jumps out of
naked skin and runs barefoot on steps
to peacock ends of flying stars, bursting suddenly
filled with provocation
with bloody terror
and with the sparkle of a leper’s eye.

Zdziecioł (Zhetl / Dyatlovo) 1937

(more…)