In the Rural Outskirts of Novosibirsk

“Слава сатане, сука” Antepenultimate taiga I’ve known, that’s always grown Beside a cabin in the coniferous woods I called home Families of fallen leaves from faraway trees Brings a tear to the eyes and a man to his knees Oh still I breathe, oh still they see Clouds slowly fold o’er the river Ob From whom the mute floræ grew Calls of reminiscent Turkic ancients Still float in the Russified wild woods A history never truly doomed to obscurity In the rural-scape of my everlasting memory Old eternity behind the façade of the city.