Into the Book


Come with me, and I will take you to a place you’ve never been, and teach you to love faraway lands.

A great city always struggles out of the dark,
When May announces its coming hesitantly:
By painting new buds on the stripéd birch tree.
Slush splashes in streets under electric tramvais,
That trundle along under these vivid blue skies,
Bright and alive after winter, dusty and stark.

The river breaks its ice into clear, glassy art,
It winds through the city at its own lazy pace,
Polluted, maybe, but it belongs to this place.
St. Basil’s looks over all, with spires that spin,
Tourists and couples alike walk past the Kremlin,
Next to tall guards in green, standing stiff, looking smart.

Hesitant grass peeks out from underneath snow,
The parks open their doors and welcome the city:
Lovely Tsaritsina, enormous Bitsevskiy,
And Kolomenskoe, where apples are free to pick.
Their wide-open paths are paved with red concrete brick,
The flowers and colors beginning to show.

We take our walks along wide, tree-lined boulevards.
Without any scarves, hats, or mittens, holding hands.
The flower sellers set up their roses in stands,
Kофе хаус sets up tables on the patio,
The small corner stores heap their fruit in the window,
With prices scribbled in chalk numbers on small cards.

Birds and babushkas caw from nest and apartment,
Swapping their new gossip and good deals on beets,
While shouting little kids play football in the streets.
Their young mothers chat on benches warmed by the sun
Why not sit outside when spring has so soon begun,
And sky and earth celebrate this yearly event?

This is the city I love: Moscow when the light stays for awhile.

Published on 16 February, 2015. Last updated on

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.