To Barbara

Come, gentle Barbara, and hear
   A serenade inside your head,
Come, let it bathe and soothe your ear
   And let your cheeks turn crimson red.

Come, gentle Barbara, don't worry
   There will be time for us to die,
Come unrestrained, in all your glory,
   Come as a bird ready to fly.

Away, away, let's run, my dear,
   To the sun-drenched lands and emerald seas,
Come, gentle Barbara, don't fear,
   Don't hide your face between your knees.

There in mud a flower grows--
   I see you trembling like a leaf--
Machines aren't human, they have no soul,
   They have no feeling underneath.

It deadens me to hear the squeaking,
   The groans of the metal parts,
And see the grime and oil leaking
   From their manmade tin can hearts.

Come, gentle Barbara, your soul
   By ugly fumes cannot be stained,
Rise like a star above the foul,
   Above the vulgar and mundane.

For only love restores the glory
   That hate has stolen from the world,
Come, gentle Barbara, don't hurry,
   Come, see the beauty that unfolds.

                                          April 12, 1986
                                        --Alexander Shaumyan