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This poem is taken from PN Review 261, Volume 48 Number 1, September - October 2021.

Three Poems after Sophia Parnock (translated with Alex Chernova) Anna Ivaskevic and Alex Wong
translated from the Russian by Anna Ivaskevica and Alex Wong

with the good counsels of
Alex Chernova

Evenings slither down, as
                       fogs of a pale blue –
Slide from the peaks
            down over the lakes.

Tomorrow, tomorrow and yesterday,
            slip out of mind.

Days are like dreams, they are like
Dreams; and thoughts
Are more submissive to the unaccountable.    

I’m alone: but only one who is alone
Is coupled
            with the universe of God.
Inside myself I attend to the secret life
            spilled over in everything. Isn’t my heart
Bound with the roots
Of all the flowers

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