By Dzianis Macieša
Translation: Hanna Komar, John Farndon
Day by day non-stop
The field crematorium belches fumes,
There is a queue
For the furnace of graves…

The fuel
Whispers in delight,
“We’ll ‘save’ you”


From each letter – a line
Let there be war and
Black rain from the sky.
Together, our letters become leaves…
Let there be no bottom,
We will build an island.

You will lose everything, but the word will be with you…

When everything explodes
And the Earth changes its movement,
The world will feel the first sound
In boundless greatness…

The last of the survivors
Will hear a quiet whisper
In the embers…
And these will be Poems…