Retribution

Youth - a retribution.
Ibsen

PROLOGUE

Life - without beginning or end.
All of us lurks case.
Above us - sumrak inevitable,
Or clear the face of God.
Notes, painter, Believe firmly
At the beginning and end. you know,
Where guard us heaven and hell.
Unto thee dispassionate measure
measure everything, that you see.
Your eyes - let him be strong and clear.
Erase random features -
And you will see: the world is wonderful.
Guess, where light, understand, where darkness.
Let it all pass slowly,
What in the world is holy, that it is sinful,
Through the heat of the soul, through the coldness of the mind.
So Siegfried ruled sword over mountain:
In the red corner turn,
Then quickly plunge into the water -
and hiss, and will become black
Pet entrusted blade…
Blow - he shines, notung faithful,
I Mime, dwarf hypocritical,
In turmoil falls at the feet of!
__________

Who will forge the sword? - Not knowing the fear.
But I am helpless and weak,
As everybody, how are you, - a clever servant,
Created from clay and dust, –
And the world - it is terrible for me.
Hero I do not stink free -
His hand - in hand People,
It should be a pillar of fire over the world,
And in every heart, in every thought -
His tyranny and his law…
Over Europe dragon,
gaping maw, languishing thirst…
Who will cause him a blow?..
We do not know: of our state,
as of old, povit distance fog,
And the smell of burning. There - fire.
__________

But the song - the song of all abide,
The crowd all someone sings.
Here - on his head on a platter
King dancer supplies;
There - he's on the scaffold black
He resigns his head;
Here - a shameful name brand
his poems… And I sing, –
But not at the court last you,
Do not you close my mouth!
Let the church dark empty,
Let the shepherd sleeps; Z to lunch
I pass the dewy Mezhuyev,
The key will turn in the bolt rusty
In alom of fireworks closed
His Mass repay you.
__________

You, struck Lucifer,
Bless on the local path!
Allow at least a small page
Life books turn.
Give me slowly and nelzhivo
Tell the front of your face
About tom, that we ourselves Taim,
About tom, that in this world alive,
About tom, as the brewing anger in the hearts of,
And with anger - youth and freedom,
As in every people's spirit breathes,
Sons reflected in fathers:
A short piece of sorts -
Two or three links, - and too unclear
Covenants dark antiquity:
I have matured a new breed, –
UHL turns into a diamond.
is he, a pickaxe hardworking,
Having risen from the depths slowly,
It appears - the world on display!
Thus Bay, do not know of rest,
Let life lived deep:
Diamond lights from afar -
fractions, my angry pentameter, stones!

All poems of Alexander Blok