At Babi Yar a monument is there
now.
Its polished granite and cast iron juts out over the
ravine.
The twisted bodies tumble, caught.
It’s Soviet,
so the later Hebrew text lies next to one
that mourns
the deaths of one hundred thousand
citizens.
All around the gritty life of Kiev
goes on.
I place a stone on a Hebrew word.
And leave.
Rupert Moreton
Russian literature, art, music and theater through architecture and monuments
reading and writing the Rust Belt with Rebecca Moon Ruark
Gedichte in verschiedenen Sprachen und deren Übersetzungen
Kate Sotejeff-Wilson, translator
Notes on nineteenth-century Russian poetry and prose
We All Want To Be A Prinny
Translation, editing and content creation
Poetry of John E. WordSlinger
Bubkes: Yiddish and mid-20th-century New York-ese for the seemingly inconsequential. Bubkes.Org: Images and observations by Stephen Lewis
Irish perspectives on life in the Nordic countries
by Eino Leino, L. Onerva, and Kaarlo Sarkia. Translated by Pentti M. Rautaharju
Great literature
The game that makes alcoholics of even the best of men
Thoughts and meanderings from a Lutheran pastor and retired bishop, former Anglican chaplain.
From Bauhaus to Beinhaus
Anglican and Irish
lingua fennica 