The Night

In honor of the Russian holiday, National Unity Day, we present this work by one of modern Russia’s finest poets.

Anatoly Marienhof
Russian
1897 – 1962

 

The night, like a tear, flowed out of an immense eye
and rolled down along the roofs upon the lashes.
Sorrow rose up like Lazarus
and raced in the streets to cry and blame everyone,
throwing herself around necks – and everyone flipped
and screamed: you’re insane!
and with whoops of fear beat the eardrums
ringing like diamond cards.

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