Turn your conscience
inside out
and slip it on like a skin.
Can you see the stains?
You can't?
Stick your neck out and look down:
things seem clearer from up there.
Can you see the stains?
You can't?
Stretch your neck a bit further.
Once it reaches the required length
you will have reached the required height
for you to see
what you keep hidden
even from yourself.
The red of shame
will add the required colour.
Translated From Russian by Francis R. Jones,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem