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Stegiel's avatar

The Heirs of Stalin

Mute was the marble. Mutely glimmered the glass.

Mute stood the sentries, bronzed by the breeze.

Thin wisps of smoke curled over the coffin.

And breath seeped through the chinks

as they bore him out the mausoleum doors.

Slowly the coffin floated, grazing the fized bayonets.

He also was mute- his embalmed fists,

just pretending to be dead, he watched from inside.

He wished to fix each pallbearer in his memory:

young recruits from Ryazan and Kursk,

so that later he might collect enough strength for a sortie,

rise from the grave, and reach these unreflecting youths.

He was scheming. Had merely dozed off.

And I, appealing to our government, petition them

to double, and treble, the sentries guarding this slab,

and stop Stalin from ever rising again

and, with Stalin, the past.

I refer not to the past, so holy and glorious,

of Turksib, and Magnitka, and the flag raised over Berlin.

By the past, in this case, I mean the neglect

of the people’s good, false charges, the jailing of innocent men.

We sowed our crops honestly.

Honestly we smelted metal,

and honestly we marched, joining the ranks.

But he feared us. Believing in the great goal,

he judged all means justified to that great end.

He was far-sighted. Adept in the art of political warfare,

he left many heirs behind on this globe.

I fancy there’s a telephone in that coffin:

Stalin instructs Enver Hoxha.

From that coffin where else does the cable go!

No, Stalin has not given up. He thinks he can cheat death.

We carried him from the mausoleum.

But how remove Stalin’s heirs from Stalin!

Some of his heirs tend roses in retirement,

thinking in secret their enforced leisure will not last.

Others, from platforms, even heap abuse on Stalin

but, at night, yearn for the good old days.

No wonder Stalin’s heirs seem to suffer

these days from heart trouble. They, the former henchmen,

hate this era of emptied prison camps

and auditoriums full of people listening to poets.

The Party discourages me from being smug.

'Why care? ' some say, but I can’t remain inactive.

While Stalin’s heirs walk this earth,

Stalin, I fancy, still lurks in the mausoleum.

Translated by George Reavey

Yevgeny Yevtushenko

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Stegiel's avatar

Needless to say Stalin was as fertile as Niall of the Nine Hostages in seeding his vision of Technological civilization. Time will tell about Mao's kids. 1 in 200 Y chromosome men are direct descendants of Genghis Khan.

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