Janna's Joy
To J. M.
I had been longing
for a handsome prince
Who’d take me out of Russia to a place
Of plentitude, where we could raise eight kids,
Eight darlings dressed in silk and finest lace.
One wakes from dreams to find one’s happiness:
Unwed, in my late thirties, I gave birth
To sweet Seryozha and I must confess
That waiting all those years was worth
His single smile. I fail to understand
How I could live without my son at all,
Without his chubby cheeks and busy hands,
His ever-joyous Mama! Mama! call.
…A prince and eight Seryozhas? Would be great.
But not a prince and some less lovely eight.
1986
Janna's
Aspiration
To J. M.
My son is ten, and
there’s just two of us.
The Soviet Union fell apart, and I,
Too well aware of what life’s hardship does
To dreamy, growing boys, packed some of my
Belongings and, invited by a friend,
The two of us came to a wondrous land,
Where common sense and kindness seem to blend
And where we prayed we’d find a helping hand.
We fell in love with Athens and the state
Of Georgia and their generous, gentle folks.
We beg the Lord to, kindly, let us stay
And grant a surer chance to all our hopes.
In life, I want my son to score his best.
Until he does, I can’t, I will not rest.
1991
