Humble home. But rum, and charcoal...

Boris Pasternak 1890 (Moscow) – 1960 (Peredelkino)



Humble home. But rum, and charcoal
Grog of sketches on the wall,
And the cell becomes a mansion,
And the garret is a hall.

No more waves of housecoats: questions,
Even footsteps disappear;
Glassy mica fills the latticed
Work-encompassed vault of air.

Voice, commanding as a levy,
Does not leave a thing immune,
Smelting, fusing… In his gullet
Flows the tin of molten spoons.

What is fame for him, and glory,
Name, position in the world,
When the sudden breath of fusion
Blends his words into the Word?

He will burn for it his chattels,
Friendship, reason, daily round.
On his desk-a glass, unfinished,
World forgotten, clock unwound.

Clustered stanzas change like seething
Wax at fortune-telling times.
He will bless the sleeping children
With the steam of molten rhymes.

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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on March 05, 2023

39 sec read
109

Quick analysis:

Scheme XABA CXDX EXDX EDBD CDDD XFBF
Closest metre Iambic tetrameter
Characters 758
Words 131
Stanzas 6
Stanza Lengths 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4

Boris Pasternak

Boris Leonidovich Pasternak was a Russian poet, novelist, and literary translator. more…

All Boris Pasternak poems | Boris Pasternak Books

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