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nineteenth century, iron,
Truly - iron age!
Thee in the darkness of night, starless
Careless people cast!
On the night of speculative concepts,
Materyalistskih small deeds,
Impotent complaints and curses,
Bloodless souls and bodies of weak!
Since you came, plague replaced,
Neyrasteniya, boredom, Spline,
Century rasshibanya foreheads against the wall
economic doctrine…
And the man? He lived limply:
He was not - machines, cities,
"Life" - so bloodless and bezbolno
tortured spirit, more than ever…
but the, who moved, controlling
Puppets of all countries, –
He knew, what have you been doing, nasılaya
"Humanist" the fog.
There, in gray and rotten fog,
withered flesh, spirit goes out,
And an angel of sacred self abuse,
It seemed, I flew from us:
There's blood feuds decide
diplomatic mind,
There are new guns interfere
Come together face-to-face with the enemy,
There, instead of courage - cheekiness,
And instead of exploits - "psychosis";
And eternally quarreling heads;
And long, hromozdkoy convoy
Drag a team,
Headquarters, intendantov, dirt cursing,
Rozka gornist horn Roland
And slam - furazhkoy replaced…

And the new century… another homeless,
Even more frightening darkness of life
(Blacker and huge
Shadow wing Luciferian).
Fires smoky sunset
(Prophecies about our day),
Comets formidable and tailed
Terrible ghost in the sky,
Relentless end Messina
(Natural forces are not overcome),
And the relentless roar of the machine,
Devises destruction night and day,
Consciousness terrible deceit
All previous small thoughts and beliefs,
And the first takeoff of an airplane
In the desert areas of the unknown,
And turning away from life,
And her crazy love,
And the passion, and hatred for the fatherland…
And black, earth's blood
promises us, inflating the veins,
Destroying all borders,
unprecedented changes,
unprecedented riots…
Well, person! For Reva stood,
In the fire, in powder smoke,
What gave fire
Open your eyes!
How majestic is your day and pyshen,
How bright is your palace, groom!
Not, I did not hear the horn of Roland,
The sound of thunder tubes other!
So, obviously, not by chance
In doubt tempered spirit you,
Member of the extraordinary days!
Open your eyes, Open to hearing
And the communion of the meaning of life,
And the meaning of life bless,
To penetrate into the secret number
And erect a temple - blood.

Autumn 1911 – 4 December 1914

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All poems of Alexander Blok

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