domingo, 5 de outubro de 2014

To be a poet — is the same
As when by truth of life
You scar your own tender flesh,
And with the blood of feelings
Caress the souls of others.

To be a poet — to sing freedom,
As you know it best
The song of night gale doesn't hurt him -
His song is always the same.

Canary mimicking someone's voice -
Pitiful and silly bauble
World needs real songs — so sing like only you can
Even if you sound like a frog.

Mohammed has overdone it in Quran
When he forbade strong drink
That is why the poet will not stop
Drinking wine before he goes to the torture

And when a poet goes to his lover,
And finds her lying with another
He, kept by life-sustaining liquid,
Won't send a knife into her heart.

But, burning up with jealous recklessness,
Will whistle on the way back home
"So what, so I will die a vagabond,
On this earth such fate is also known."

Serguei Iessenin


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