Кариатиды 1982
Translated by Tanya Wolfson ©

CARYATIDS

Everywhere life's cauldrons bubble,
And it's their own business.
Men raise high and turn to rubble
Destinies and buildings.
Loves like plaster busts abound,
And fates go up like fences.
Friend, that's also holy ground:
One of Fine Art's fancies!
(That's how it works for me, and you?)
New construction keeps you busy,
You will cut no corners:
Columns, porticos and friezes,
Architrave and cornice,
Winding hallways right and left,
Great views command attention,
Pairs of caryatids heft
The top part of the mansion.
Each small detail a delight
Of fine ornamentation.
Still, one minor oversight -
Didn't lay the foundation.
Oh no, how could this have happened?!
Then again, we're human.
Tear it down at one fell swoop, and
Start to build a new one.
Polish all the skills you're wielding
If this be your calling.
Breaking's easier than building
Fate as well as dwelling.
Looks like only good work shows
Itself as one comes closer,
But the master builder knows
Where all the fatal flaws are.
If he has his craftsman's honor,
Even mid ovation,
Mid the crowd's astounded moan or
Frenzied admiration,
He'll ignore his ego's heaves,
He'll tune out thrill and glamor,
Plant his feet, roll up his sleeves
And swing the old sledgehammer!
If I were like that good master,
I, too, would know better -
I'd not hang on to my dumpster
As if it could matter,
I'd destroy it in a twinkling
And build a new bungalow,
But I guess I'm just a weakling,
Just a spineless bungler.
I've no torment, angst or grouse,
Real or created,
I'm just propping up a house
Like a caryatid.
Just my manly self-denial
(And that'll be my best part)
Keeps me wedded all this while
To my work of messed art.
Mouth agape I stand there brooding,
Stuck mid falling plaster.
If, say, you're a beast of burden,
Know who is your master.
Hoofed or winged, sleek or matted,
Know your kind of bondage.
If you are a caryatid,
Know your wall and don't budge.
Everywhere life's cauldrons bubble,
And it's their own business.
Men raise high and turn to rubble
Destinies and buildings.
What do you care for their heated
Shouts and frantic hopping?
If you are a caryatid,
Just stick to your propping!
(And that sums up my life, how's yours?..)