Igor Koshel was a Russian poet. No more information about him is available.

Here I share a beautiful poem which was published in 1989 when reading the quarterly magazine Soviet Literature was not difficult. 

I liked and copied it in my diary. 

Read on -

You are to me an undying ache, 

I am to you an unavoidable torment.

Between us is love, 

Hands of a son and hands of a grandson.

You come to me as a long-awaited letter, 

I come to you with a long-distant call.

Between us is our sweet home 

Where no one is ever alone.

I'm with you, though a thousand miles away. 

You're with me, even in sun-baked Lagman. 

Stale bread doesn't taste so bad 

When you see "Mother" on the postcard.

(Translated by Eric Walberg)

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