The Song poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
Sailor, my dear, my heaven-made spouse! There is one thing that I beg of you, man: Kiss any strangers, and give them your flowers, love many women. But, pray, don’t love one. These are the words that I send with my letter, piercing land after land they will moan; stay there as long […]
The Parabolic Ballad poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
My life, like a rocket, makes a parabola flying in darkness, — no rainbow for traveler. There once lived an artist, red-haired Gauguin, he was a bohemian, a former tradesman. To get to the Louvre from the lanes of Montmartre he circled around as far as Sumatra! He had to abandon the […]
Self-Portrait poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
Unshaven and thin, with an angular face He’s lain on my mattress for several days. A cast-iron shadow hangs down the stair, the lips, huge and bulging, smuggle and flare. “Hello, Russian poets, — his voice sounds wistful – shall I give you a razor or, maybe, a pistol? Are you a genius? […]
The AntiWorlds poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
There is Bukashkin, our neighbor, in underpants of blotting paper, and, like balloons, the Antiworlds hang up above him in the vaults. Up there, like a magic daemon, he smartly rules the Universe, Antibukashkin lies there giving Lollobrigida a caress. The Anti-great-academician has got a blotting paper vision. Long live creative […]
Russian-American Romance poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
In my land and yours they do hit the hay and sleep the whole night in a similar way. There’s the golden Moon with a double shine. It lightens your land and it lightens mine. At the same low price, that is for free, there’s the sunrise for you and the sunset […]
Rubber Souls poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
I hate you, rubber souls, you seem to stretch to fit any regime. They’ll give a yawning smile, stretched wide, and, like an octopus, they’ll draw you tight. A rubber man is an elusive rogue: a fist gets sucked into the bog. The rubber editor is scared of , the author […]
Modern Nature poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
Red cows on the asphalt road have settled. Lazing on the asphalt pan they lie. We drive them round for cows are sacred! They are loyal to the highway, we wonder why. “Old herdsman, we want our question answered: Why have the cows gone mad?” “God forbid! The point is that flies do […]
My Friend’s Light poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
I’m waiting for my friend. The gate’s unlocked. The banisters are lit so he can walk. I’m waiting for my friend. The times are dull and tough. Anticipation lightens our life. He’s driving down the Ring Road, at full speed, the way I did it when he was in need. He […]
Her Story poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
I started up the engine and I lingered. Where should I go? The night was fine, I figured. The bonnet trembled like a nervous hound. I shivered. Night lit up the houses around. The Balzac age, I felt its burning pain, Chilled to the bone, I couldn’t hold my own. The age of balsam […]
Fate poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
Fate is above me. Why should I browse? Sleeping in dosses, an outcast, I rove. Grief is a cellar, that opens in every old house. A ditch is below me and fate is above. What did I want? Well, a life of contentment. What did I get? Just a coffin and wreath… Under […]
Abuses and Awards poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
A poet can’t be in disfavour, he needs no awards, no fame. A star has no setting whatever, no black nor a golden frame. A star can’t be killed with a stone, or award, or that kind of stuff. He’ll bear the blow of a fawner lamenting he’s not big enough. What […]
A Ballad (Thesis for a Doctor’s Degree) poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
My doc announced yesterday : “You may have talent, though it’s hidden, your beak, however, is frost-bitten, so stick at home on a cold day”. The nose, eh? As irretrievable as time, conforming to the laws of medicine, your nose, like that of any person, keep growing steadily, with triumph! The noses of celebrities, of […]
Once A Great Love by Yehuda Amichai
Once a great love cut my life in two. The first part goes on twisting at some other place like a snake cut in two. The passing years have calmed me and brought healing to my heart and rest to my eyes. And I’m like someone standing in the Judean desert, looking at a sign: […]
On Rabbi Kook’s Street by Yehuda Amichai
On Rabbi Kook’s Street I walk without this good man– A streiml he wore for prayer A silk top hat he wore to govern, fly in the wind of the dead above me, float on the water of my dreams. I come to the Street of Prophets–there are none. And the Street of Ethiopians–there are […]
Of Three Or Four In The Room by Yehuda Amichai
Out of three or four in the room One is always standing at the window. Forced to see the injustice amongst the thorns, The fires on the hills. And people who left whole Are brought home in the evening, like small change. Out of three or four in the room One is always standing at […]
Near The Wall Of A House by Yehuda Amichai
Near the wall of a house painted to look like stone, I saw visions of God. A sleepless night that gives others a headache gave me flowers opening beautifully inside my brain. And he who was lost like a dog will be found like a human being and brought back home again. Love is not […]
My Father by Yehuda Amichai
The memory of my father is wrapped up in white paper, like sandwiches taken for a day at work. Just as a magician takes towers and rabbits out of his hat, he drew love from his small body, and the rivers of his hands overflowed with good deeds. ————— The End And that’s the End […]
My Child Wafts Peace by Yehuda Amichai
My child wafts peace. When I lean over him, It is not just the smell of soap. All the people were children wafting peace. (And in the whole land, not even one Millstone remained that still turned). Oh, the land torn like clothes That can’t be mended. Hard, lonely fathers even in the cave of […]
Memorial Day For The War Dead by Yehuda Amichai
Memorial day for the war dead. Add now the grief of all your losses to their grief, even of a woman that has left you. Mix sorrow with sorrow, like time-saving history, which stacks holiday and sacrifice and mourning on one day for easy, convenient memory. Oh, sweet world soaked, like bread, in sweet milk […]
Love Of Jerusalem by Yehuda Amichai
There is a street where they sell only red meat And there is a street where they sell only clothes and perfumes. And there is a day when I see only cripples and the blind And those covered with leprosy, and spastics and those with twisted lips. Here they build a house and there they […]
Jerusalem by Yehuda Amichai
On a roof in the Old City Laundry hanging in the late afternoon sunlight: The white sheet of a woman who is my enemy, The towel of a man who is my enemy, To wipe off the sweat of his brow. In the sky of the Old City A kite. At the other end of […]
If I Forget Thee, Jerusalem by Yehuda Amichai
If I forget thee, Jerusalem, Then let my right be forgotten. Let my right be forgotten, and my left remember. Let my left remember, and your right close And your mouth open near the gate. I shall remember Jerusalem And forget the forest — my love will remember, Will open her hair, will close my […]
I Want To Die In My Own Bed by Yehuda Amichai
All night the army came up from Gilgal To get to the killing field, and that’s all. In the ground, warf and woof, lay the dead. I want to die in My own bed. Like slits in a tank, their eyes were uncanny, I’m always the few and they are the many. I must answer. […]
I Know A Man by Yehuda Amichai
I know a man who photographed the view he saw from the window of the room where he made love and not the face of the woman he loved there. ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by topic and subject. Poetry Monster — the ultimate repository of […]
I Have Become Very Hairy by Yehuda Amichai
I have become very hairy all over my body. I’m afraid they’ll start hunting me because of my fur. My multicolored shirt has no meaning of love — it looks like an air photo of a railway station. At night my body is open and awake under the blanket, like eyes under the blindfold of […]
I Don’t Know If History Repeats Itself by Yehuda Amichai
I don’t Know if history repeats itself But I do know that you don’t. I remember that city was didvided Not only between Jews and Arabs, But Between me and you, When we were there together. We made ourselves a womb of dangers We built ourselves a house of deadening wars Like men of far […]
Half The People In The World by Yehuda Amichai
Half the people in the world love the other half, half the people hate the other half. Must I because of this half and that half go wandering and changing ceaselessly like rain in its cycle, must I sleep among rocks, and grow rugged like the trunks of olive trees, and hear the moon barking […]
God Has Pity On Kindergarten Children by Yehuda Amichai
God has pity on kindergarten children, He pities school children — less. But adults he pities not at all. He abandons them, And sometimes they have to crawl on all fours In the scorching sand To reach the dressing station, Streaming with blood. But perhaps He will have pity on those who love truly And […]
God Full Of Mercy by Yehuda Amichai
God-Full-of-Mercy, the prayer for the dead. If God was not full of mercy, Mercy would have been in the world, Not just in Him. I, who plucked flowers in the hills And looked down into all the valleys, I, who brought corpses down from the hills, Can tell you that the world is empty of […]
Forgetting Someone by Yehuda Amichai
Forgetting someone is like forgetting to turn off the light in the backyard so it stays lit all the next day But then it is the light that makes you remember. ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by topic and subject. Poetry Monster — the ultimate repository […]
Ein Yahav by Yehuda Amichai
A night drive to Ein Yahav in the Arava Desert, a drive in the rain. Yes, in the rain. There I met people who grow date palms, there I saw tamarisk trees and risk trees, there I saw hope barbed as barbed wire. And I said to myself: That’s true, hope needs to be like […]
Do Not Accept by Yehuda Amichai
Do not accept these rains that come too late. Better to linger. Make your pain An image of the desert. Say it’s said And do not look to the west. Refuse To surrender. Try this year too To live alone in the long summer, Eat your drying bread, refrain From tears. And do not learn […]
Before by Yehuda Amichai
Before the gate has been closed, before the last quetion is posed, before I am transposed. Before the weeds fill the gardens, before there are no pardons, before the concrete hardens. Before all the flute-holes are covered, beore things are locked in then cupboard, before the rules are discovered. Before the conclusion is planned, before […]
And We Shall Not Get Excited by Yehuda Amichai
And we shall not get excited. Because a translator May not get excited. Calmly, we shall pass on Words from man to son, from one tongue To others’ lips, un- Knowingly, like a father who passes on The features of his dead father’s face To his son, and he himself is like neither of them. […]
An Arab Shepherd Is Searching For His Goat On Mount Zion by Yehuda Amichai
An Arab shepherd is searching for his goat on Mount Zion And on the opposite hill I am searching for my little boy. An Arab shepherd and a Jewish father Both in their temporary failure. Our two voices met above The Sultan’s Pool in the valley between us. Neither of us wants the boy or […]
A Precise Woman by Yehuda Amichai
A precise woman with a short haircut brings order to my thoughts and my dresser drawers, moves feelings around like furniture into a new arrangement. A woman whose body is cinched at the waist and firmly divided into upper and lower, with weather-forecast eyes of shatterproof glass. Even her cries of passion follow a certain […]
A Pity, We Were Such A Good Invention by Yehuda Amichai
They amputated Your thighs off my hips. As far as I’m concerned They are all surgeons. All of them. They dismantled us Each from the other. As far as I’m concerned They are all engineers. All of them. A pity. We were such a good And loving invention. An aeroplane made from a man and […]
A Jewish Cemetery In Germany by Yehuda Amichai
On a little hill amid fertile fields lies a small cemetery, a Jewish cemetery behind a rusty gate, hidden by shrubs, abandoned and forgotten. Neither the sound of prayer nor the voice of lamentation is heard there for the dead praise not the Lord. Only the voices of our children ring out, seeking graves and […]
A Dog After Love by Yehuda Amichai
After you left me I let a dog smell at My chest and my belly. It will fill its nose And set out to find you. I hope it will tear the Testicles of your lover and bite off his penis Or at least Will bring me your stockings between his teeth. ————— The End […]
Sergei Esenin – Sergueï Essénine – Stars
Unrhymed edited translation My little stars above are so clear and high! What do you keep in yourself, what do you hide? Stars that conceal the deepest of thoughts, By what power do you captivate our soul? Numerous tightly crowded little stars! What is the secret of your beauty and strength? What do you carry […]