Retribution

Not, vernal ice crushing, not wash away
Their lives are fast river:
She will leave in retirement
And the young man, and an old man -
Watch, as the ice is worn,
And the ice will break,
And both of them will dream,
That their "people call forward"…
But these children chimera
Not prevent finally
Coy as the purchase behavior
(From this not averse father),
Kosovorotku the Manisku
change, to do service,
To give birth to a boy,
Legitimate wife love,
AND, the post is not standing "glorious",
Well his duty
And to be serviceable officer,
Without bribes seeing a lot about the service…
Yes, in this life - to death early;
They are like children:
Shout until his mother, - Shala;
They - "not my novel":
They - all learn, yes chat,
Yes delight themselves with dreams,
But they do not ever understand
Those, with doomed eyes:
Other articles, other blood -
other (pathetic) love…

So life went on in the family. swing
their waves. Veshnyaya River
Neslasь - dark and wide,
And floe hung threateningly,
And suddenly, pomedlyv, skirted
This very old boat…
But soon the hour foggy -
And in our friendly family
Was a stranger strange.

Stand up, Come out to the meadow póutru:
The pale sky hawk circling,
Drafting and round smooth circle,
looking for, where worse
Nest hidden away in the bush…
Suddenly - tweet and motion…
He is listening… Another moment -
Flies on straight wings…
Alarm cry from adjacent slots,
Sad squeaking chicks last,
Pooh pó gentle wind flying -
He sacrificed the poor claws…
again, waving huge wings,
I take off - draw a circle by circle,
Nesytym eye and homeless
Inspect the deserted meadow…
When one looks, - circling, circles…

Mother Russia, like a bird, tuzhit
About kids; but - its fate,
To their tormented hawk.

In the evenings Olga Vrevskaya
Society was selected color.
Sick and sad Dostoevsky
I went here in his old age
Harsh life to brighten up the burden,
Gather data and power
For "Diary". (It's that time
With Pobedonostsev was friendly.)
With outstretched hand of inspiration
Poloneky here read poems.
Some ex-minister humbly
Here I am confessing.
And the rector of the university
I have been here botanist Beketov,
And many professors,
And the servants of brush and pen,
And also - the servants of royal power,
And the enemies of its kind,
Well, in short, can be found here
Different states mixture.
Inside, this without reserve,
Under the spell of the hostess,
Slavophile and liberal
Mutually hand shaking
(how, however, It has long been usual
We, in the Russian Orthodox:
all, thank God, hand shake).
And all - not so much a conversation,
How liveliness and eyes, –
Hostess in a few minutes
By itself could bring to a miracle.
She, really, reputed
Fascinating, beautiful,
And together - was a good.
Olga Pavlovna who was linked, –
Everyone remember his her good
(It is still obliged to remain silent
Language writers of).
I hold a lot of young people
Her public salon:
Others - in similar beliefs,
One - is simply in love with her,
Another - with conspiracy case…
And everyone needs it was,
All came to her, - boldly
She took part
In all matters without exception,
As well as in hazardous industries… –
To her and my family
All three were taken daughters.

Among the elderly and chinnyh,
Among the green and innocent -
The cabin was Vrevskaya, as its,
One young scientist.
laid-back guest, the usual -
He was with a number of "you".
His marked features
The seal is not quite normal.
Time (he passed the living room)
He was noticed by Dostoevsky.
"Who is this handsome? - he asked
in a low voice, leaning toward Vrevskaya: –
It seems to Byron ". - slovce
Winged all picked up,
And all for a new face
They turned their attention.
This time the light was merciful,
Usually - as stubborn.
«Beautiful, smart », - repeated ladies,
men puckered: "poet"…
But, If frown man,
must be, their jealousy takes,
A sense of the beautiful half
No one, the devil, do not understand…
And the ladies were delighted:
"He - Byron, means - demon…" - Well?
He was indeed a proud lord similar
Face a look of haughty
And something, I want to call
Heavy fire of sorrow…
(At all, it noticed an oddity -
And everyone wanted to see.)
Perhaps, did not have, Unfortunately,
It is only the will of the… is he
One some secret passion,
must be, Lord has been compared:
A descendant of generations later,
The rebellious fervor which lived
inhumane aspirations, –
Byron he looked like,
How painful brother against brother
Healthy at times like:
The same reddish glow,
And an expression of the power train,
And the same poryvane to the abyss.
But - secretly bewitched spirit
Tired cold disease,
And an effective flame extinguished,
And will frenzied efforts
heavy with consciousness.

All poems of Alexander Blok