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(1 September 1855 - 13 December 1909 / Omsk)

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A Gas Butterfly

Tell me what's happening to me?
Why is my heart beating so fervently?
why has this madness, like a wave,
Broken through the rock of habit?

Is it my strength or just my torment
I'm too disturbed to tell:
From the shimmering lines of life
I extract a forgotten phrase...

Is it a thief who turns his lantern
Upon the crowd of dreary letters?
I can't help reading the phrase,
But haven't the strength to go back...

It really had to flare up,
But it only harries the darkness;
All night, like a gas-flame butterfly
It trembles, but cannot escape...

Submitted: Thursday, January 01, 2004


Read poems about / on: butterfly, strength, night, heart

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Comments about this poem (Poppies by Innokenty Fedorovich Annensky )

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  • Kee Thampi (8/10/2012 3:05:00 AM)

    a lovable but green will not be here to shine
    s it a thief who turns his lantern
    Upon the crowd of dreary letters?
    I can't help reading the phrase,
    But haven't the strength to go back...

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Ingeborg Von Finsterwalde (8/8/2012 7:43:00 AM)

    I am so glad I am not the only one with this problem...

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