Sergei Mironovitch Kirov Poem by Rupert John Cornford

Nothing is ever certain, nothing is ever safe,
To-day is overturning yesterday's settled good.
Everything dying keeps a hungry grip on life.
Nothing is ever born without screaming and blood.
Understand the weapon, understand the wound:
What shapeless past was hammered to action by his deeds,
Only in constant action was his constant certainty found.
He will throw a longer shadow as time recedes.



Online text copyright © 2009, Ian Lancashire (the Department of English) and the University of Toronto.