A poem by Alexander Block – Alexandre Block – Alexandr Blok – Александр Блок
(1880-1921)
The restaurants on hot spring evenings
Lie under a dense and savage air.
Foul drafts and hoots from dunken revelers
Contaminate the thoroughfare.
Above the dusty lanes of suburbia
Above the tedium of bungalows
A pretzel sign begilds a bakery
And children screech fortissimo.
And every evening beyond the barriers
Gentlemen of practiced wit and charm
Go strolling beside the drainage ditches —
A tilted derby and a lady at the arm.
The squeak of oarlocks comes over the lake water
A woman’s shriek assaults the ear
While above, in the sky, inured to everything,
The moon looks on with a mindless leer.
And every evening my one companion
Sits here, reflected in my glass.
Like me, he has drunk of bitter mysteries.
Like me, he is broken, dulled, downcast.
The sleepy lackeys stand beside tables
Waiting for the night to pass
And tipplers with the eyes of rabbits
Cry out: “In vino veritas!”
And every evening (or am I imagining?)
Exactly at the appointed time
A girl’s slim figure, silk raimented,
Glides past the window’s mist and grime.
And slowly passing throught the revelers,
Unaccompanied, always alone,
Exuding mists and secret fragrances,
She sits at the table that is her own.
Something ancient, something legendary
Surrounds her presence in the room,
Her narrow hand, her silk, her bracelets,
Her hat, the rings, the ostrich plume.
Entranced by her presence, near and enigmatic,
I gaze through the dark of her lowered veil
And I behold an enchanted shoreline
And enchanted distances, far and pale.
I am made a guardian of the higher mysteries,
Someone’s sun is entrusted to my control.
Tart wine has pierced the last convolution
of my labyrinthine soul.
And now the drooping plumes of ostriches
Asway in my brain droop slowly lower
And two eyes, limpid, blue, and fathomless
Are blooming on a distant shore.
Inside my soul a treasure is buried.
The key is mine and only mine.
How right you are, you drunken monster!
I know: the truth is in the wine.
A few random poems:
- It Would poem – Alice Notley
- At A Solemn Musick poem – John Milton poems
- Олег Бундур – Разногласия
- To What Serves Mortal Beauty? poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems
- Sonnet 67: Ah, wherefore with infection should he live by William Shakespeare
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- Жан де Лафонтен – Врачи
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- dear owl, forlorn like King Lear by Raj Arumugam
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
- Body Script by Satish Verma
- Blue Mountains by Satish Verma
- Blistering Attack by Satish Verma
- Blemishes by Satish Verma
- Battle For Madness by Satish Verma
- Bare Tongue by Satish Verma
- Backtracking by Satish Verma
- AWAY FROM HOME by Satish Verma
- Astigmatism by Satish Verma
- Armless Enemies by Satish Verma
- Animation by Satish Verma
- Ancient Sins by Satish Verma
- Anarchy by Satish Verma
- An Art by Satish Verma
- Afterimages by Satish Verma
- A Saint Between Us by Satish Verma
- A River Flows Underground by Satish Verma
- A Killing by Satish Verma
- A DARK HOUSE by Satish Verma
- A Civil War by Satish Verma
More external links (open in a new tab):
Doska or the Board – write anything
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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.