Who is Osip Emilevich Mandelstam

Osip Emilyevich Mandelstam (Russian: Осип Эмильевич Мандельштам, IPA: [ˈosʲɪp ɨˈmʲilʲjɪvʲɪtɕ mənʲdʲɪlʲˈʂtam]; 14 January [O.S. 2 January] 1891 – 27 December 1938) was a Russian and Soviet poet. He was one of the foremost members of the Acmeist school.

Osip Mandelstam was arrested during the repression of the 1930s and sent into internal exile with his wife, Nadezhda Mandelstam. Given a reprieve of sorts, they moved to Voronezh in southwestern Russia. In 1938 Mandelstam was arrested again and sentenced to five years in a corrective-labour camp in the Soviet Far East. He died that year at a transit camp near Vladivostok.

Life and work

Mandelstam was born on 14 January 1891 in Warsaw, Congress Poland, Russian Empir...
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Osip Emilevich Mandelstam Poems

  • O This Air, Intoxicated With Sedition
    O this air, intoxicated with sedition,
    On the black square of the Kremlin.
    The agitators rock the teetering world .
    It smells of restless poplars. ...
  • This Night Is Irredeemable
    This night is irredeemable.
    Where you are, it is still bright.
    At the gates of Jerusalem,
    a black sun is alight. ...
  • I Can-t Sleep
    I canâ??t sleep. Homer, and the taut white sails.
    I could the list of ships read only to a half:
    The long-long breed, the train of flying cranes
    Had lifted once the ancient Greece above. ...
  • Tristia
    I have studied the Science of departures,
    in nightâ??s sorrows, when a womanâ??s hair falls down.
    The oxen chew, thereâ??s the waiting, pure,
    in the last hours of vigil in the town, ...
  • Venetian Life
    1

    The meaning of somber and barren
    Venetian life is clear to me: ...
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Top 10 most used topics by Osip Emilevich Mandelstam

Black 17 Night 12 Light 11 Dark 11 Heavy 10 Dream 9 Love 9 Life 9 Sun 9 I Love You 9


Osip Emilevich Mandelstam Quotes

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Comments about Osip Emilevich Mandelstam

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Edgar Albert Guest Poem
The Killing Place
 by Edgar Albert Guest

We're hiking along at a two-forty pace
We 're making life seem like a man-killing race,
With our nerves all on edge and our jaws firmly set
We go rushing along; with our brows lined with sweat
And our cheeks pale and drawn every minute we dash,
And the goal that we 're after is merely more cash.

We 're out for the money, the greenbacks and gold,
...

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