Aleksandr Aleksandrovich Blok Poems

The faithless shadows of day are running
And high and clear is the call of bells,
Steps of the church are blazed as with the lightning,
Their stones are alive and wait for your light steps.
...

The river stretched. It flows, idly grieves,
And washes both banks.
In steppe, above light clay of cliffs
Rinks mourn in ranks.
...

Halls grew darker and somehow faded.
Grates of windows drowned in black.
Every knight, every beautiful lady
Knew the tiding: "The Queen's deadly sick."
...

In the harbor passive,
Just where green water calmly sleeps,
Set in the column, strong and massive,
Appeared navy's silent ships.
...

Don't call. Without any summons
I'll reach the shrine.
And droop my head in even silence
To your feet fine.
...

You are but millions. Our unnumbered nations
Are as the sands upon the sounding shore.
We are the Scythians! We are the slit-eyed Asians!
...

Above the restaurants in the evenings
The sultry air is wild and still,
And the decaying breath of spring
Drives drunken shouting.
...

She hailed from a very distant country,
Nocturnal child of ancient times;
She had no kin to greet her entry
...

A small circus is amazing;
It’s for kids who are merry and bright;
There a girl and a boy're gazing
At the ladies, kings, and droll sprites.
...

The snowy spring is raging mad,
I look away from the saga;
O, dreadful hour, when she read
...