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:
- Insomniac by Maya Angelou
- Calais, August 15, 1802 by William Wordsworth
- Robert Burns: The Charms Of Lovely Davies:
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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: Address To The Woodlark:
- Robert Burns: Does Haughty Gaul Invasion Threat?:
- Robert Burns: Had I The Wyte? She Bade Me:
- Robert Burns: The Lass That Made The Bed To Me :
- Robert Burns: The Cooper O’ Cuddy:
- Robert Burns: The Cardin O’t, The Spinnin O’t:
- Robert Burns: Inscription For An Altar Of Independence: At Kerroughtree, the Seat of Mr. Heron.
- Robert Burns: Ballads on Mr. Heron’s Election, 1795: Ballad Third – John Bushby’s Lamentation.
- Robert Burns: Ballads on Mr. Heron’s Election, 1795: Second-Election Day
- Robert Burns: :
- Robert Burns: Ballads on Mr. Heron’s Election, 1795: Ballad First
- Robert Burns: O Wat Ye Wha’s In Yon Town:
- Robert Burns: I’ll Aye Ca’ In By Yon Town:
- Robert Burns: Her Answer:
- Robert Burns: O Let Me In Thes Ae Night:
- Robert Burns: The Lass O’ Ecclefechan:
- Robert Burns: O Steer Her Up An’ Haud Her Gaun:
- Robert Burns: Gude Ale Keeps The Heart Aboon:
- Robert Burns: O Aye My Wife She Dang Me:
- Robert Burns: Wee Willie Gray:
More external links (open in a new tab):
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Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.
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.