Primorsky park Pobedy (Приморский парк Победы)
Еще недалеко плоская коса,
Translated by Alistair Noon
Not far away, there lies a flattened spit,
black and despondent in the Neva Delta
just as it had been in the time of Peter,
covered in moss and washed by icy brine.
A handful of willows lived out their days there,
you'd catch a sad, decrepit fishing boat
ferrying no one, rotting on the sand.
No one would walk about that lifeless swamp,
whose only guest was the furious wind.
One early morning though, the Leningraders
came out in crowds towards that lonely shore,
each of them carrying a sapling to plant
upon that spit, all desolate and marshy,
in memory of the mighty Day of Victory.
And now today, this bright-lit garden stands,
free, spacious, clear beneath enormous skies:
the branches curl as they turn into bloom,
bees a-buzz, butterflies flitter about,
sapling oaks ripen, tender larch and lime
admire themselves in the gentle canal,
its peaceful waters, as if in a mirror...
And there, where once a lonely sail would stand,
a white shape in the silver mist of the sea,
tens of swift-winged, light yachts can crowd at will.
From the distant stadium, the cries of triumph
carry this far. Yes, this is Victory Park.