Death of a Hero (The Mosquito)

^{translated from the Ukrainian by John Hennessy and Ostap Kin}

The rusty hollows inside the old mosquito
reduce his soprano to dust. Down the pipe
of his fragile beak, the pumps are already weak.
And his blood flows through fossilized riverbeds.

His gas tanks empty, song silenced, not a drop
of compassion in him... Running on coal fumes,
the rusted engines deliver him to drill
one last buzz through the ears of the crowd.

A kamikaze who would have dropped heavenly tons
on these civilians as on military echelons
and then been posthumously awarded

the highest orders! his name on honor lists!   
banners! trumpets! salutes! obelisks!
... if my slap hadn’t smashed him dead.