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:
- Николай Огарев – Отцу
- Николай Языков – С. П. Шевыреву (Тебе хвала, и честь, и слава)
- Robert Burns: A Fiddler In The North:
- Алексей Ржевский – Портрет
- You Are One For Whom Ma Heart Really Cares by Miraj Patel
- Thou Orb Aloft Full-Dazzling. by Walt Whitman
- Огюст Барбье – Жертвы
- Sonnet Of Motherhood VIII poem – Zora Bernice May Cross poems
- Николай Заболоцкий – Дождь
- Love Poem by Aditya Kumar
- Maternal Grief by William Wordsworth
- Николай Тихонов – Когда людям советским
- Аля Кудряшева – Тяжело деревьям зимой
- Secrets of Academic Success: Passion
- The Dead Woman poem – Pablo Neruda
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
- Sonnet 48: How careful was I, when I took my way by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 47: Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 46: Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 45: The other two, slight air and purging fire by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 44: If the dull substance of my flesh were thought by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 43: When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 42: That thou hast her, it is not all my grief by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 41: Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 40: Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 3: Look in thy glass, and tell the face thou viewest by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 39: O, how thy worth with manners may I sing by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 38: How can my Muse want subject to invent by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 37: As a decrepit father takes delight by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 36: Let me confess that we two must be twain by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 35: No more be grieved at that which thou hast done by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 34: Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 33: Full many a glorious morning have I seen by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 74: But be contented when that fell arrest by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 73: That time of year thou mayst in me behold by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 72: O, lest the world should task you to recite by William Shakespeare
More external links (open in a new tab):
Doska or the Board – write anything
Search engines:
Yandex – the best search engine for searches in Russian (and the best overall image search engine, in any language, anywhere)
Qwant – the best search engine for searches in French, German as well as Romance and Germanic languages.
Ecosia – a search engine that supposedly… plants trees
Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.
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.