29 September 2009

Welcome to Radio Mayakovsky

Mayakovsky's Instead of a Letter, as sang and interpreted by a Russian group Splin. This song emerged as a part of a Living Mayakovsky project.
The same project gave birth to a live online Radio Mayakovsky - a never-ending listing of Mayakovsky's poems that are being made into songs.

Tobacco smoke
has consumed the air.
The room
is a chapter
in Kruchenukh's inferno.
Remember –
beyond that window
in a frenzy
I first stroked your hands.
You sit here today
with an iron-clad heart.
One more day –
you'll toss me out,
perhaps, cursing.
In the dim front hall my arm,
broken by trembling won't fit
right away in my sleeve.
I'll run out,
throw my body into the street.
I'll rave,
lashed by despair.
Don't let it happen
my dear,
my darling,
let us part now.
After all
my love is a heavy weight
hanging on you
no matter where you go.
Let me bellow a final cry
of bitter, wounded grievance.
If you drive
a bull to exhaustion
he will run away,
lay himself down
in the cold waters.
Besides your love
I have
no ocean
and your love won't grant
even a tearful plea for rest.
When a tired elephant
wants peace
he lies down regally
in the firebound sand.
Besides your love
I have
no sun,
but I don't even know
where you are and with whom.
If you tortured
a poet like this,
he would berate his beloved
for money and fame,
but for me
no sound is joyous
but the sound
of your beloved name.
I won't throw myself downstairs
or drink poison
nor can I put a gun to my head.
No blade
holds me transfixed
but your glance.
Tomorrow you'll forget
that I have crowned you,
that I burned my flowering soul
with love,
and the whirling carnival of
trivial days will ruffle
the pages of my books...
the dry leaves of my words
force you to a stop
gasping for air?

At least
let me
pave with a parting endearment
your retreating path.

26 May 1916, Petrograd

No comments:

Post a Comment