A poem by Alexander Block – Alexandre Block – Alexandr Blok – Александр Блок
(1880-1921)
III
Our sons have gone
to serve the Reds
to serve the Reds
to risk their heads!
O bitter,bitter pain,
Sweet living!
A torn overcoat
an Austrian gun!
-To get the bourgeosie
We’ll start a fire
a worldwide fire, and drench it
in blood-
The good Lord bless us!
-O you bitter bitterness,
boring boredom,
deadly boredom.
This is how I will
spend my time.
This is how I will
scratch my head,
munch on seeds,
some sunflower seeds,
play with my knife
play with my knife.
You bourgeosie, fly as a sparrow!
I’ll drink your blood,
your warm blood, for love,
for dark-eyed love.
God, let this soul, your servant,
rest in peace.
Such boredom!
XII
… On they march with sovereign tread…
‘Who else goes there? Come out! I said
come out!’ It is the wind and the red
flag plunging gaily at their head.
The frozen snow-drift looms in front.
‘Who’s in the drift! Come out! Come here!’
There’s only the homeless mongrel runt
limping wretchedly in the rear …
‘You mangy beast, out of the way
before you taste my bayonet.
Old mongrel world, clear off I say!
I’ll have your hide to sole my boot!
The shivering cur, the mongrel cur
bares his teeth like a hungry wolf,
droops his tail, but does not stir …
‘Hey answer, you there, show yourself.’
‘Who’s that waving the red flag?’
‘Try and see! It’s as dark as the tomb!’
‘Who’s that moving at a jog
trot, keeping to the back-street gloom?’
‘Don’t you worry ~ I’ll catch you yet;
better surrender to me alive!’
‘Come out, comrade, or you’ll regret
it ~ we’ll fire when I’ve counted five!’
Crack ~ crack ~ crack! But only the echo
answers from among the eaves …
The blizzard splits his seams, the snow
laughs wildly up the wirlwind’s sleeve …
Crack ~ crack ~ crack!
Crack ~ crack ~ crack!
… So they march with sovereign tread …
Behind them limps the hungry dog,
and wrapped in wild snow at their head
carrying a blood-red flag ~
soft-footed where the blizzard swirls,
invulnerable where bullets crossed ~
crowned with a crown of snowflake pearls,
a flowery diadem of frost,
ahead of them goes Jesus Christ.
A few random poems:
- The Solitary by Sara Teasdale
- A Draught Of Sunshine poem – John Keats poems
- Владимир Маяковский – Бродвей
- Epigram : To Leonora Singing At Rome 2 (Translated From Milton) by William Cowper
- Extract From The Conclusion Of A Poem Composed In Anticipation Of Leaving School by William Wordsworth
- Memorials of A Tour In Scotland, 1803 I. Departure From The Vale Of Grasmere, August 1803 by William Wordsworth
- Гавриил Державин – Послание Мурзы Багрима к царевне Доброславе
- Abuses and Awards poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
- Ballade Of The Tweed poem – Andrew Lang poems
- Валерий Брюсов – Гимн Афродите
- The Shepherd’s Brow, Fronting Forked Lightning, Owns poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems
- Song by William Browne
- In Answer to a Request poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- Our Singing Strength by Robert Frost
- The Dancer At Cruachan And Cro-Patrick by William Butler Yeats
External links
Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus
Talking Writing Monster’s Page –
Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh
Poems in English
- Robert Burns: Epitaph For James Smith:
- Robert Burns: Epitaph On John Dove, Innkeeper:
- Robert Burns: To A Mouse, On Turning Her Up In Her Nest With The Plough:
- Robert Burns: Halloween: The following poem will, by many readers, be well enough understood; but for the sake of those who are unacquainted with the manners and traditions of the country where the scene is cast, notes are added to give some account of the principal charms and spells of that night, so big with prophecy to the peasantry in the west of Scotland. The passion of prying into futurity makes a striking part of the history of human nature in its rude state, in all ages and nations; and it may be some entertainment to a philosophic mind, if any such honour the author with a perusal, to see the remains of it among the more unenlightened in our own.-R.B.
- Robert Burns: Farewell To Ballochmyle:
- Robert Burns: Young Peggy Blooms:
- Robert Burns: Second Epistle to Davie: A Brother Poet
- Robert Burns: Masonic Song:
- Robert Burns: Lines On Meeting With Lord Daer:
- Robert Burns: Address To The Toothache:
- Robert Burns: Farewell Song To The Banks Of Ayr: “I composed this song as I conveyed my chest so far on my road to Greenock, where I was to embark in a few days for Jamaica. I meant it as my farewell dirge to my native land.”-R. B.
- Robert Burns: O Thou Dread Power: Lying at a reverend friend’s house one night, the author left the following verses in the room where he slept:-
- Robert Burns: Epigram On Rough Roads:
- Robert Burns: Fragment Of Song:
- Robert Burns: The Brigs Of Ayr: Inscribed to John Ballantine, Esq., Ayr.
- Robert Burns: Reply To A Trimming Epistle Received From A Tailor:
- Robert Burns: Willie Chalmers: Mr. Chalmers, a gentleman in Ayrshire, a particular friend of mine, asked me to write a poetic epistle to a young lady, his Dulcinea. I had seen her, but was scarcely acquainted with her, and wrote as follows:-
- Robert Burns: Nature’s Law – A Poem: Humbly inscribed to Gavin Hamilton, Esq.
- Robert Burns: The Calf: To the Rev. James Steven, on his text, Malachi, ch. iv. vers. 2. “And ye shall go forth, and grow up, as Calves of the stall.”
- Robert Burns: Thomson’s Edward and Eleanora.:
More external links (open in a new tab):
Doska or the Board – write anything
Search engines:
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Parallel Translations of Poetry
The Poetry Repository – an online library of poems, poetry, verse and poetic works
Alexander Blok (1880-1921), also Block, was a Russian poet, writer, publicist, playwright, translator and literary critic. A classic of Russian literature.