Two Prison Poems

SOVIET COUP: ONE YEAR AFTER

By

I.

All night rain pelted the iron bars,

hoping to reach,

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through newspaper ravings, poison and lies,

truth and sympathy.

To clear from the dirt,

the simple word - conscience,

restoring the living link

between him, who he was, and who he is now.

II.

Between a crack of the prison courtyard,

shoots up an emerald sprout.

Its path is slow and difficult,

pushing from dawn to dark.

Such a similar path truth must make,

through the lies and foam of disputes.

And history will evaluate,

and history will understand.

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