Again a meeting, noisy, dying, <br /> half colloquium, <br /> half co-lying. <br />Obedient hands <br /> raised to vote, <br />is there no sob of sentiment <br /> in your throat <br />when making <br /> a charming deal <br />to dismember friends <br /> on the wheel? <br />What kind of minority <br /> honestly stands? <br />Only two hands, <br /> only two hands. <br />A minority has courage, <br /> the majority reeks. <br />They are not Bolsheviks, <br /> just bullshitviks. <br />They are not soldiers <br /> of revolutions. <br />Just soldiers <br /> of resolutions. <br />You, my friends, <br /> are silent with reason. <br />But cowardly silence <br /> also is treason. <br />Oh, majority, majority, <br /> creators and victims of fraud, <br />so many times you’ve <br /> tortured, corrupted, <br />you have no right <br /> to be our god. <br />The non-ruling minority <br /> has no authority. <br />On so many cowards I see <br /> an invisible life vest. <br />But how powerless is the dishonest assent <br /> of the majority. <br />And how powerful is <br /> minority’s honest protest. <br /> <br />1957 <br />Translated by Albert C. Todd with the author<br /><br />Yevgeny Yevtushenko<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/again-a-meeting/
