Boris Pasternak

(10 February 1890 - 30 May 1960 / Moscow)

A Dream - Poem by Boris Pasternak

I dreamt of autumn in the window's twilight,
And you, a tipsy jesters' throng amidst. '
And like a falcon, having stooped to slaughter,
My heart returned to settle on your wrist.

But time went on, grew old and deaf. Like thawing
Soft ice old silk decayed on easy chairs.
A bloated sunset from the garden painted
The glass with bloody red September tears.

But time grew old and deaf. And you, the loud one,
Quite suddenly were still. This broke a spell.
The dreaming ceased at once, as though in answer
To an abruptly silenced bell.

And I awakened. Dismal as the autumn
The dawn was dark. A stronger wind arose
To chase the racing birchtrees on the skyline,
As from a running cart the streams of straws.


Comments about A Dream by Boris Pasternak

  • Sylva-onyema Uba (2/11/2017 5:29:00 AM)


    But time grew old and deaf...
    Beautiful piece. Well done!

    Sylva.
    (Report) Reply

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  • (2/10/2017 11:21:00 PM)


    bloody red September tears. Fantastic conceptualization and a nice poem. (Report) Reply

  • Robert Murray Smith (2/10/2017 10:16:00 PM)


    A very good poem. Thank you Boris. (Report) Reply

  • Geeta Radhakrishna Menon (2/10/2017 9:11:00 PM)


    But time grew old and deaf. And you, the loud one,
    Quite suddenly were still. This broke a spell.
    The dreaming ceased at once, as though in answer
    To an abruptly silenced bell.
    Most beautifully penned.
    (Report) Reply

  • Susan Williams (2/10/2017 5:20:00 PM)


    I only knew him as a Russian novelist and author of Doctor Zhivago. His poetry is as powerful. (Report) Reply

  • Ramesh T A (2/10/2017 1:55:00 PM)

    Life
    Wonderful state of life as in a dream is expressed by a skillful artist! (Report) Reply

  • Denis Mair (2/10/2017 12:40:00 PM)

    be consoled
    From a cart that was already racing, bits of straw race even faster, whirling ahead in this special wind. The muse-wind passes over the skyline of a grove, toward everywhere that birches grow. One way of measuring time had to die, but in this wind we feel time stir afresh. (Report) Reply

  • Edward Kofi Louis (2/10/2017 11:15:00 AM)

    Time grew old
    Stronger wind! Thanks for sharing this poem with us. (Report) Reply

  • Indira Renganathan (2/10/2017 5:38:00 AM)

    A Dream
    Highly skillful writing....a lovely poem though the content is sad...10+++++ (Report) Reply

  • Tom Allport (2/10/2017 3:40:00 AM)

    tom allport
    a sad poem about missing a loved one, with only dreams by way of seeing them again. (Report) Reply

  • Bernard F. Asuncion (2/10/2017 1:59:00 AM)

    A stronger wind arose
    Nice poem...... thanks for sharing..... (Report) Reply

  • Himasri Barman (2/10/2017 12:34:00 AM)


    very nice poem.....wonderful work (Report) Reply

  • Mohammed Asim Nehal (2/4/2016 9:18:00 AM)


    Nice poem..The dreaming ceased at once, as though in answer
    To an abruptly silenced bell.
    (Report) Reply

Read all 13 comments »

User Rating:
2,7 / 5 ( 208 votes ) 13



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Poem Submitted: Saturday, April 3, 2010



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