Retribution

III

East terrible dawn
In those years, a little more Alella…
The mob stared Petersburg
Podobostrastno king…
Crowds really,
In the medals in the driver door
Severe hot horses,
Policemen on the panel
We drove the audience… "Hooray"
Turns someone vociferous,
And the king, huge, vodyanystыy,
With a family travels from the yard…
Spring, but the sun is shining silly,
Before Easter - seven weeks,
And from the roof cold drops
Already by the collar of my stupid
creep, back chilling…
Wherever you turn around, all winds…
"How sick to live in this world", –
mumbling, avoiding a puddle;
Dog legs popped pód,
Galoshes detective shine,
The stench of sour with yards rushing,
And the "prince" shouts: "Bathrobe, bathrobe!»
AND, met face from the passers-by,
He would spit in his face,
If only desire the same
His eyes did not read…

IV

But before the May night
The whole city was immersed in a dream,
And expands the horizon;
Huge month behind
Throwing a glow mysteriously face
Before dawn boundless…
ABOUT, my elusive town,
Why did you came over the abyss?..
Do you remember: leaving a white night
There, where the sea looks Sphinx,
And hewn granite
Bending head grew heavy,
You could hear: away, away,
As if by sea, sound an alarm,
For God's firmament impossible
And unusual for land…
You foresaw the entire distance, like an angel
On skewers krepostna; and so -
(Sleep, or reality) wonderful fleet,
Greatly expanding flanks,
Suddenly hath Neva…
And he Sovereign Founder
It stands at the head frigate…
So many dream reality…
Well what do you dream, Russia,
What storm destined?..
But in these times of deaf
not everyone, of course, had dreams…
And the people did not happen
On the square in this wonderful moment
(A belated lover
hurry, turned up the collar)…
But in scarlet trickles over the stern
Already coming day shone,
And dormant pennants
Already the morning wind played,
Raskinulasь boundless
Already bloody dawn,
Threatening Arthur and Tsushima,
Thunderstorms January Ninth…

1911

All poems of Alexander Blok