It is a blessing to be able to work with Russian poems such as those of Marina Eskina. These translations have been foundational in my attempt at understanding Russian. My favorite is the poem about a father’s funeral:

How we buried you I don’t remember,
how the casket was lowered into the hole
my eyes don’t know.
It was a summer day. Those who stood there…
I don’t recall,
material
for dreams now.
Since then, no matter whom
I bury, I bury you.

-“How We Buried You I Don’t Remember” by Marina Eskina, trans. by Ian Ross Singleton