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.
The Twelve
Aleksandr Aleksandrovich Blok
(1)
Poem topics: I love you, dog, god, pain, peace, time, wind, world, beast, soul, wild, sweet, crown, good, frost, clear, answer, street, worry, frozen, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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