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Read the poem in Russian! *New*


A flicker of red on the tree trunk
that travels as swiftly the bark
as a tongue glibly glides over teeth rows
and never ceases till dark.

What will you watch in the night-time
that you´ll tell in the morning´s first grey,
What secrets that should be unspoken
reveal to the light of the day ?

Your words are a whisper of malice
in the eagerly listening ear
of worm and eagle and mankind,
all those who are willing to hear.

Soft like the rustle of leaves,
your tales of  rumors are rife,
subtle like wind through the branches
you´re mongering mischief and strife.

And many a good name is shattered
and many a word-fight is fanned;
you pour oil into the fire,
and all get their burns in the end.

We´re always so avid to listen
of other folks´ failure and shame;
but woe to the time when it´s out turn
and the gossip to us does the same!

Knowing the way it´s been going,
from you we should keep us afar;
But our own greed for you shaped the need,
it is us that made you what you are.

© 2005 Michaela Macha

Image 1: © Neil McIntyre
Image 2: "Gerücht" (Rumor), A. Paul Weber, German artist, lithography 1943

License: This poem may be freely distributed, provided it remains
unchanged, including the copyright notice and this License:

This work by Michaela Macha (www.odins-gift.com) is licensed
under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivatives License.