Boris Pasternak (10 February 1890 - 30 May 1960 / Moscow)
Here a riddle has drawn a strange nailmark
Here a riddle has drawn a strange nailmark. To sleep now!
I'll reread, understand with the light of the sun,
But until I am wakened, to touch the beloved
As I do has been given to none.
How I touched you! So touched were you even by the copper
Of my lips, as an audience is touched by a play,
And the kiss was like summer; it lingered and lingered,
Only later the thunderstorm came.
And I drank in long draughts, like the birds, half-unconscious.
The stars trickle slowly through the throat to the crop,
While the nightingales roll up their eyes in a shudder
From the firmament draining the night drop by drop.
Boris Pasternak's Other Poems
- ‘February. Take ink and weep,’
- ‘Like a brazier’s bronze cinders,’
- ‘My sister – Life’s overflowing today’
- A Dream
- A Sultrier Dawn
- A tall, strapping shot, you, considerate...
- A Walts With a Tear in It
- About These Poems
- After the Interval
- After The Storm
- Autumn Frost
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