Roza Bekniyazova

I am a Doctor of Philosophy (Ph. D.) and a poet. Many of my poetic, prosaic pieces and clauses have been published in various world periodicals. The month December was marked by huge successes: My verses were accepted by many English journals of the world in English for the first time. My work has been translated in many countries and has received recogntion by the international Federation of the Russian Writers (Hungary), International Union of the writers " The New contemporary", Russian branch, Ukrainian branch, Austrian branch.

Translated by Olga Grun

Conquerors of the World

The world remembers the names of heroes,
Formidable conquerors.
Until this day, the noise of battles is heard,
As well as the voice of a terrible idol.

Who led the armies to attack?
Who took territories by force?
Who prepared hanging for rebels?
These are the pages of unclear history.

Infected by the idea,
Valiant forces rushed after the leader.
Sick with megalomania,
Did they understand deadly risk?

They rushed again to attack
By the call of the poweful leader.
At his first sign,
They went into fire and water of this world.

Oh, shining of victories! Oh, hymn of happiness!
The happy star is burning!
Oh, the troubles of this life!
Black abyss awaiting man!

Goodness Is Still Alive on Earth

The voice of a woman-prophet
Gave birth to different meanings.
Black earthly forces, like wolves,
Were circling around her.
The world didn’t know peace.

But goodness didn’t rot on Earth.
In pure innocent hearts,
Faith in a prophet was shining,
And people didn’t hide their tears.

Carrying the transitory life burden,
It ignited fire in people’s hearts.
Time would show the truth to everyone,
Be it a scientist, a magician, or a villain.

Though the crowd was boiling
with blackness of ignorance,
The prophet’s warm words
Will attract its attention.

The dark wave was splashing.
Tossing between truth and lie,
Curious crowd
Headed for rightness.

The Wagon of Life Is Squeaking Again

The wagon of life is rolling again.
The coachman is daring and young,
He has the thirst for new things in the world.
A gray-haired coachman is sitting nearby.

He walked many roads
In this deceitful life.
The foggy curves of his travel
Were filled with trouble and sadness.

The waggon of life is squeaking again.
The old coachman is sitting silently.
Ravines and gullies do not matter to him.
He’s used to everything in the world.

He looked at the young coachman,
At the joy and flight of a young soul
That has a long way till the final shore.
But the old coachman finished his trip.

The wagon of life is rolling again.
The coachman is daring and young,
He has the thirst for new things in the world.
A gray-haired coachman is sitting in silence…