THE LAST TROLLEY BUS
When I’m in trouble and totally done
and when all my hope I abandon
I get on the blue trolley bus on the run,
the last one,
at random.
Night trolley, roll on sliding down the street,
around the boulevards keep moving
to pick up all those who are wrecked and in need
of rescue
from ruin.
Night trolley bus will you please open your doors !
On wretched cold nights, I can instance,
your sailors would come, as a matter of course,
to render
assistance.
So many a time they have lent me a hand
to help me get out of grievance...
Imagine, there is so much kindness behind
this silence
and stillness.
Last trolley rolls round the greenery belt
and Moscow, like river, dies down...
the hammering blood in my temples I felt
calms down
calms down
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This is a violation of the letter in an attempt to transmit the spirit of the poem/song.
By George Garrol
When it gets too be too
Hard
To Vanquish my Pain
When despair slowly crawls to my door
I see the blue trolley pull up to my gate
Serendipitously , slowly
The night’s final trolley, speeds down the street
It spins on the cobblestone pavement
In Rush to pick up
Those who crashed in defeat
Those facing defacement
The night’s final trolley
You’ll save me a seat
I know that the night’s frigid current
Will not sweep your passengers off of their feet
Your heavy steel frame will be buoyant
Your beacons, commuters
Have led me to shade,
when sandstorms collapsed my mind’s shelter
And many a trouble have helped me evade
Anonymous helpers
Their selfless philanthropy
Always abounds
They give me up the seats, that men covet like diamonds
Take Note
How much kindness
There’s to be found
In Silence, In Silence
The last trolley sails
On the Moscow boulevard
Moscow dries up like a river
And slowly the shrapnel removes its own shards
And hearts once again start to quiver
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