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Mikhail Gerasimov "Elektropoem"



 

At the exhibition "Electrification. 100 Years of the GOELRO Plan" you will hear literary works dedicated to electrification. At the beginning of the exhibition is Mikhail Gerasimov's optimistic "Elektropoem", full of happiness about the union with electricity. You can see a fragment of the work, voiced by actor Yuri Pavlov, at Zubovsky Boulevard, and read the full text below.


I. – Soil

Here I came to you.

I witness as you sweat with spring passion,

Awaiting for fertilization,

Awaiting for the dust of golden grains.

I see – a shining

Of black and fiery eyelashes colored green

Until horizon,

There, where unrested flocks of other plowmen loom

And fervently kissing you with their feet.

My scream splatters,

Or of any other being:

- Soil,

- A great beloved of mine!

I kiss your snowy glaucous eyes

Full-flowing

And streams splashing with happiness,

Atop of laughing hillock cheeks,

In flowers, in flowers.

I kiss your conceived body,

Fertilized by beams and seeds,

With golden bloom at your chest.

The answer is:

- Inside of you I am,

Inside your horse, plowman

There I am, clattering down thousands of thousands roads

Both terral and orbital,

There I am, spreading out in laughter

On ploughshare keenly polished.

I am your thought,

Curling through the fields that are yet to come

With aerial seeding

And electrical irrigation.

Behold:

Above horizons

Claw-looking smoky paws

Of pipes from burgs.

Grabbing by hair of straw

From black earth stripes…

II. Above the iron masses,

Stone buildings,

My own home

As steelflame telescope

Till skies a pipe arises.

The blue abyss chatters

With mirages and pouts,

From fire and steam roar groans.

But she,

Sealed eternally,

Brings closer milky mists

From within the ethereal ocean,

Brings the worlds right before me.

I could take every star

With my palms

And could press every radiance by my eyes.

Revealing secrets

Even for the straw brains.

Teaching wisdom – kind mother,

A darling, domain-one.

How much love would be put in

By prevailing of truth above lies,

Mankind incurable infatuation

The first one.

Put your ear closer and you`ll feel,

Beating,

Raging of heart of fire and steel.

The buildings shutter –

Electric pulses in bricks and layers.

In nerves and glands both simple and metal.

The source of labor,

Leaking energy from every cell.

I scream to her:

- So rough! Anticipating milky foliages,

Golden shadows of other gardens,

Through you I foresee what`s yet to come

In constellations of villages and cities.

O, songs of mine, keep ringing,

Burn with rainbow, jingle!

My heart as star in zenith,

Got to know the noon and horizon.

III. And when the pipe smokes –

On my shoulders

Black strands descend

Out of a dark shawl pulled down to eyebrows.

Leaking from sparkling eyes

Radium emanation.

Embraced with flames

A smile pours

Of mother’s passion and bliss.

Praying to love and wisdom.

Sparks dripping down on my face like tears.

It starts blooming with spring.

I`m feeling their stinging caress.

With muscles and lips drinking

Electric milk and rays.

A horn.

Such a mighty melodiousness!

- Isn’t it your son screaming?

In thermic incandescence

My aluminum bones are ringing,

- Take me on your knees,

Lull me like a son.

IV. Embraced with smoke,

Beloved one,

Don`t let me suffocate,

Through you I’m foreseeing unseeable

I`m foreseeing hereafter

In the infrared light.

Life is attraction,

Two yearning electrons

Divided in inconceivable whirling,

Impossibly seeking their unity.

V. Every morning

Summer lightnings shivers –

Flashes of thought –

Dawning sky is thinking above town.

And then suddenly a siren –

Pink film of dawn,

A blanket over the black brains of soil,

Ripped apart the roar of iron beast.

- Everyone to cast iron woods!

To cast iron woo-ooo-ooo-ds!

Doors started slamming

Restless and clear, -

Crawling out of stone lairs.

Stains and shadows are jumping among granite,

Cobbles are sprouted with them.

Black and blue stone

Is running above the ashes of roads.

So, I also rushed like a tongue of flame

In stone glades

Between the spurs.

I`m seeing a campfire

Scattered across hundreds of streets,

It is flowing towards one place.

Has control over us:

- Everyone to cast iron woods!

Brick walls,

Gateways and pipes –

Red glades.

Stone stamens

Of belfry and towers

Soaking up rays

And atmospheric charges.

Pierced by lightning rays’ crosses,

Their metallic fingers

Are tickling the clouds and catching lightnings.

VI. The factory awakes

From the motion of blueish waves,

Streams of dark blue flames

Flickering, just like a sea mass.

Machines and tools

Lurking monsters

- Power on!

Copper paws are pierced with juice,

Cast iron jaws are in motion.

Somewhere under the roof starts prickle song,

From poured bodies,

Blood of 37 degrees and higher –

Temperature is rising.

Arises buzzing boil.

The solemn humming of machine

It is – a beating of an iron heart.

Metamorphosis.

Metallic forest rustles,

Sparkles with its branches and foliage.

The lightning meanders,

The air is full of smell of thickened thunderstorm.

It tickles nostrils.

The boas of belt are diving through.

Energy overwhelms

Across cast iron windbreaks:

- Comrades!

That word slipped through within beams.

Golden sawdust swarming in the air.

The words spark with flares,

Grappling into mighty glow:

- Comrades!

Here and there it shutters, filling the workshops.

Shining through metal of machines

And human bodies.

- Comrades!

Thousands of chests breathed in its drunken flow

Of metal forest.

Soft sawdust under my boot – the moss.

Many legs unfolding

Fallen leaves –

Copper shavings

And silver petals.

Collecting bouquets

They are covered in pollen

Exuding fragrances

Aluminum, lead, zinc –

Their scents.

Under my caliper starts crumbling

The fragrant pine bark, it flawed

And cedar one

Through muscles strength surged through.

Opposite of me – a girl.

Her machine – a plane prepared for take-off.

- Hello! – short and brief.

Welcoming eyes bathed me

With rays of light.

Ginger hairs flowing down from shoulders

With copper flames.

I want to say:

- Let me stroke their electric foam

I sense –

The sparks will flare under the palm,

The current will blast through the nerves,

Will froth the blood.

Work.

All muscles tense and trembling.

I`m breaking down.

Each moment

Millions of ions

They run out with force.

Storm explosions in the blood.

I`m feeling an eruption

Of horsepower out of me

They pour into the metals of machines

Into work.

Fatigue.

Recharging with some stale bread.

Swallowing piece by piece

Of condensed sunlight

And forces of the soil.

The smell of sun and fields

Is flaring nostrils

They widen like buds,

Immediately bloomed.

A flame within me –

Power juices across a thousand streams

Translucent through the blood and muscles.

I`m loaded for a new work.

There are aluminum rods and tubes under my arms

Looking like enlarged eyes

Of swan feathers

Fluff flows from under the incisors,

Melts in bugle.

It snorts in our faces

With blood of rowan bunches.

VII. My love unknown,

My friends and others – know

I`m hugging a dynamo,

Its elastic parts.

The iron pulses singing

Is so carbon.

I can feel the beating of an electric heart,

Its pushes and punches.

Unopened responding shiver

Flashing in me.

Virgin and flourishing.

- Look, look,

What a power waterfalls

In copper veins under the skin

Dynamo blood

Foaming and gurgling.

What a fortune it is to cad

To meet this sun!

Darling, dear one,

I can sense:

Lips as an electric spring,

Its splashes

And frothy boiling

Beating right in my heart.

My warmth beams,

Runs into the brass skin.

Fever of light,

Current flows

Are shooting through me.

I`m feeling cold with my lips

Of polished metal.

I breathe in deeply

A pungent cannabis scent.

The golden dust is oozing from the brushes

Tickling my face

With magnetic eyelashes.

Beloved one,

Incomprehensible, fast tremble of the movement,

My hair covered with phosphorescent sparks

Swaying under the electric wind.


Conception.

Conception in the depths of the inhuman dear,

Moves and pushes

Inside the mother`s womb,

Vibration of the germ

Of cosmic voltage forces

In millions of volts.

The voice:

- beware the deadly kiss!

Fiery claws piercing the body.

Everything trembles and sings within me.

Electric hair

Splatters blizzy in my face

In a transparent shine

Two bodies –

Metallic and human

Freezing in the mystery of fusion.

I`m seeing,

Seeing it is closed

I`m pouring into global depths

Of spectral eyes.

Through the steam pores

Penetrating the unseeable,

Splitting the mystical

My ultraviolet gaze.

Love is the flow

Of electric flame within me

And machine blood of iron.

Love is a shuddering movement

Of light and current.

VIII. The sun pierced the glass,

Her hands flashed with gold,

It is a dust of red cooper,

It sits also on our faces.

Bright grapes of her pupils,

Bathed by blue smokes

They radiate an unusual brilliance.

Constellations of other gazes

Being crossed,

Like sharp spotlights.

Good and evil,

Minus and plus.

Joy boils up in me

And there is no need for words.

You and I are atoms,

Are specs of one great soul,

Of all of these,

A collective.

Every head is in radiance

Of radioactive radiation.

Fountains and waves flow from brains,

Blouses,

Eyes.

In smoke and scattered light

The atoms swarm,

Piercing metallic.

Round dances of lifted stars

Spinning and colliding.

Rhythmical fall and flights,

Down and up,

On the unseeable orbits of feelings and thoughts.

In this closed space

A starry stockpile of heads.

Thoughts tensed till impossible

Becoming visible, alike rays.

The gears are pulling

Those glowing strings

From head to head,

They are trembling with musical sound.

The heart became enormous,

Beating metallic,

All the machines and factories in the world

Fight within it.

Radioactive radiation

Splashes out of my eyes,

Ebulliently dripping down the forehead.

I lean over mystery,

With insight and tension of will

I`m tearing its veil with the force,

Because I`m charged by the work,

I`m charged by the love.

It piled up in me, so sensitive,

Like a spark in hookup,

It rolled up like an undischarged thunderstorm,

And awaits for other piercing electron.

As long as I can carry her in my palms

Under the microscope of my pupils.

I feel:

I am the mighty Ruhmkorff spiral.

A winding of thousand-mile nerves

Is penetrated by toque.

Billions of ions

Completing their rotation there –

Around world orbits.

Higher, volts,

Arise, unrepressed will!

Have more universal faith.

A heart,

Pump up the amps

Into villages and cities.

Countless wires

Have webinated the earth.

In America and Australia.

Pulsating of lightning blood

And millions are also feeling its beat

Near, near the heart

Like me.

In astral round dances,

On Mars and in the constellations of Lyra,

In every pilgrim nebula of the world

There is a splashing of electric blood

Put your heart to it – you will feel…

IX. Factory and city are left behind,

Boiling of brawl right after back.

I know, there are April rains swinging,

Slicking down with twin tongues

Kremlin wounds – splashes of metal,

Scars on walls and facades.

Not squealing from convulsive shots

And lightnings.

And there is no need.

I believe in something else.

The itching pain of mine

That poured from separation.

I`m swallowing with miles spring and atmosphere.

Love and struggle,

Labor and love –

Three great Bastilles,

Which were not taken by storm.

A hundred faced old-one sprouts there

In cafes and boulevards.

Predatory faces are swinging in packs

Above tables,

Above maidens’ meat.

I`ve set my sails away,

Along the way – a dawn.

They’ve cut off from the factory

My anchors.

Whirl,

Whirl in the boil of the spring!

I feel the dynamo yearns,

It`s there, like a torn heart of mine,

Expires, trembles and beats

In someone else`s hands

I am the flown off plane aluminum sheet,

Swirled in the blue boil of spring,

Descending, descending

Until the claws of the forest –

The bushes got me hooked.

X. Loneliness and forest.

I`m building a hut.

It is full of spring juices.

When I`m laying down on the old mosses,

Ferments flawing down on me

Seeping through the bark of my clothes

Also, in me the intoxicating fermentation of juices.

Two friends are beyond me –

An axe and a gun.

And so, I am calm.

Steel particle machine –

The soul of factory presence is here.

Under a beam flowing through branches

A polished one smiles at me

Shared a welcoming nod:

You are not alone,

You are not alone!

The stream of golden-green light expands

And sways.

It seems to me. –

Like ginger strands of hair spilled into the gap.

Electric fire caresses me

Curling and dissolving.

Dynamo!

A shot.

The gray eagle falls at my feet.

Minium splashed over fluttering wings,

The spill the cups of flowers,

Infused with blue and white light.

This smile of light

Spills for last time

Into its eyes

And extinguishes the beating of life.

Dying is a shifting of electrons

Non-renewable expiration.

I`m not alone,

My ear picks up a pulse

Under every crust.

Currents are rising from deepest roots

Towards the heights

And descend

They rub against me.

With hot cheek

I`m caressing the odorous skins of trunks

And feeling responding,

Magnetic flutter.

I believe, dynamo!

Green palms of foliage,

Stroking my face.

I can clearly read

The thoughts of plants.

I raise my hands towards the sky

And the forest throws up its hands

And the sun accepts

This strong vowel of life.

XI. I`m seeing the playing spiders

In transparent silver nets,

Like drops of mercury,

They are rolling towards each other

Spinning, merging, repelling.

I`m in love with a lonely tree

With thousands of green palms,

Stretched towards the sun.

I`m in love with crowds of trees

Swinging round dances.

A touch of outstretched fingers

Covered in fragrant resin as sweat,

With ringing drops.

The lips of flowers have swelled with sweet juice,

They are stretching on tiptoes,

Swallowing with opened mouths

Fertile pollen

Out of sparking of blue day.

I hear a thousand of rustling kisses.

Collecting sparks of seeds with eyelashes

From cups and petals,

I`m touching pistils and stamens.

XII. Every morning from a nearby village

A girl comes to my hut.

I`m trading fowl for milk.

With morning dawn

So accidently and expected

This field girl sprouts

Under the green roof of my house.

Golden and thin – she is a ripe ear,

Smell of wheat flows out of her.

Braids sway heavily –

Mellow sheaf

Filled with grain.

I also notice:

A tremble of pearly dew drops

On bare feet.

On light nails

Sanded by grass.

She touched once,

Stroked the leather jacket on me

Which preserved the sparks of iron dust.

She swiftly pulled her hand away –

Her cheeks immediately swelled

With exploding red flame,

It was the current that spurted out of me.

She disappeared with an animal leap,

Have shouted:

-Tomorrow – the ploughing!

This flash exposed my soul.

Wheat smell

Has watered with electrojuice

My salivary glands.

XIII. Gigantic sun gear arises,

Colored crimson of tension.

Grappled with the globe.

The wastes are smoky,

Dewy meadows and clouds

Rhythmic running of rays

From golden claws

Filled the atmosphere with shimmer.

Leaves, birds and folks

By the power of motion

Are knocked out of the dazing of sleep.

Spasm of cheerfulness

Penetrates every muscle,

Every nerve of a plant.

The sky trembles and shimmers –

As molten blue aluminum.

- Spring, you are stroking my hair in vain

And by kisses of winds

Blushing my cheeks.

I`m hearing a voice of iron.

Of another beloved one.

I`m seeing the plants grow

And mature instantly, ready for love.

The stems are stretching,

Freezing in kisses

Every bud, every flower,

Is a little dynamo,

That sprinkles seed and odor,

Infused with dust

And bright electric juices of passion.

- Are you thinking about someone else?

Don`t you just notice me?

Her cannabis scent

Has brought me out of my daze.

- Oh, no, I`m just not poisoned with henbane,

That steppe sleepy grass.

Forgive me,

Sometimes I`m thinking about someone else.

But you are also a miracle

Just like this golden blade of grass.

She trembles with love.

And I love her.

Loose hair

Sways across shoulders

With copper flame.

A whole fire spilled from the head.

Green eyes are attracting –

Two magnets.

I want to merge together with them.

I`m seeing thousands of pupils

Of buds and stems.

Nature intensely gazes upon us.

A falcon is hung in the skies,

Swaying crisscross

On the golden webs of the rays.

Peering in.

The birds are seeking each other,

Excitedly calling with shrieks.

Magnetic waves are flowing from females,

They spray them with their wings,

The circles running for miles away.

Behind each, an invisible flame foams,

Comet tails swept through space

In a thousand directions

Where drunken males

Are diving recklessly

Wedding flights with music, singing

And aerial games.

The pines are clouding with golden mist

Of seed dust.

These clouds,

Murmuring currents of life,

Rushing into the lungs of birds,

Foaming in the primal

And human breath.

Love is a bright shower,

With flowers and lightnings,

She rings with blue bells.

Love is two electrons,

Merged in an incomprehensible whirling

Impossibly seeking disunion.

XIV. A margin.

I`m seeing out of the cart –

With green flame of sprouts

The spring splashed

Into the black earth waves of arables.

Two nearest hillock-twins,

Like firm maiden breasts,

Shining with golden fluff of the fields.

And the red stones on their tops –

Cold nips,

In the milk hazing of morning dew.

I`m harnessing the hazel one.

He strains his horsepowers,

With muscles pours them into motion.

Plough claws bite in.

Cods of soil – black roses,

Petals fall of

From the floor of a laughing plowshare.

She leads the horse the horse with the reins,

All so bright, so happy –

Soul of margins and fields.

Her bare feet are diving

Among black earth waves,

They are shining with black silver now.

- Soil, -

A great beloved of mine!

Reply is: -

Inside of you I am, plowman

And inside of your horse…

XV. A midday thunderstorm.

A blue-snow cloud nestled

To the sun's flaming cheeks,

It turns violet.

I feel the elusive breath

Of the chill of the world's space

In large, refreshing drops.

The clouds have become funneled,

Sprouting thunderstorms

And soon with the golden pinks of lightning

All is cut to an ache.

The electric wind

Dives into the black earth's waves.

Someone in the fields

With huge leaps catching lightning.

Atmospheric electrical dust

Fertilizes every drop.

The ozone smell widens our nostrils

And the horizons.

Explosions and thunder,

It's the tractor horse rumbling

And snorting gasoline.

The downpour and the sun caress us.

Drops of cellular honey

Drops of honey drip down our faces, our clothes

And smoking horse hair.

The earth is perfumed with sweat,

The sweet fumes

Pervades to the depths.

With my lips I feel it,

Through the rain's moisture,

The blue veins in the neck

Where the golden fuzz is

The frozen splashes of sunshine.

A whiff of clear purity.

The wheel of the raluga flashed

In a second-millionth jiggle,

Faster than thought.

That wondrous tremor

Sheds joy.

I am all earthly,

In spectral sparks,

Infused with the scent of falsehood.

I hear the light humming

Of worlds far away,

Through the rainbow, the sun,

And fresh tears of rain.

They weave a transparent wreath

Over the earth.

XVI. Twilight rolled on quickly.

The deep night watered the earth.

The stars ripened.

A fragrance poured from them,

The fresh breeze

Of shivering leaves of light.

Someone's nodding to me

In these singing branches.

A slight greeting,

An elusive movement from on high,

Suddenly pricked my nerves

With an iron strain.

I cut short my tale

Of wandering luminaries

And milky nebulae,

Which in the gardens of spring

Of plum and apple blossoms there.

- Sweetheart,

Leave me alone.

"The footsteps in the dewy grass are silent.

Silence.

I stare at Mars unblinking.

Space melted and the distance exorbitant.

I see it like an open book,

Clear and close to the creepy.

I want to step back.

I see the shimmering of pulses,

The swaying wisps and flowers

Little dynamos

Radiating dust and fragrance...

Silence.

Black walls of trees surround me.

I smell a hostile breath.

Threatening gestures of loose muscles.

The splash of wings,

The cries of owls

Slapping my cheeks.

The beating of a native deep beneath the earth.

My feet feel

The slight throbbing of veins of copper and iron

There in the depths.

A deep silence embraces me

And the hut.

I open my eyes, darkness,

I close them, darkness.

A strange restlessness sprouts in me.

The stifling fumes of decay

Suddenly came upon my body

On my lying body.

The darkness has thickened to a vein,

It slams into me,

And my lungs are seized.

I hear footsteps and stomping voices.

Forest men in beastly skins

At once they surround me.

My cheeks, through the wool,

Shivering with poisonous smiles.

- You are ours,

You are our man of iron!

They bind themselves with signs of the cross,

Shaking their hairy skins in prayer.

All the dark forces of the forest,

The beliefs of mossy antiquity

They surround the forest,

Hissing with their wings...

The shaggy ghosts roar

And shake their beards.

Suddenly an abyss grows,

The abyss grows wider and darker.

The island of light rumbles down

Into the blackness of the world.

I leap and shout:

- And lights and cars!

Grabbing my gun from the stage.

- No, we shall win!

A ray of starlight breaks through

I am at once soothed.

The cold barrel touches

On my flaming cheek.

A sweet caress drenches me.

I am stroked by a small palm

Of brushed steel,

Kisses my lips.

I feel the soul of the plant

That is present here.

XVII. The darkness becomes unbearable.

I'm drowning in it.

- Light, light!

I remembered a little flashlight.

An electric light bulb

Flashed a bright star.

I look at it with admiration,

Bringing it closer to my eyelashes

And I pull it away.

From the hut the shadows are running

With bent backs,

From this glittering bundle

Of golden stalks.

I draw near, I draw far.

My face shines with these kisses.

Night butterflies fly in,

They begin to whirl around me,

Swirling around Like dark planets

On secret orbits.

"The May beetle swoops

With a triumphant buzz

An invisible comet.

I feel the air swaying.

The musical sound has watered the hut.

Insects with transparent wings

Tremble and accumulate

With silver foam.

Luminous nebulae.

Along parabolas disappear into space.

The bat with clawed wings

The source of light

Hid for a moment

Eclipse.

I stare unblinking into eternity.

The trembling of my star

Widens and wavers.

The giant world,

Flies swiftly towards me.

Blood rushes to my head.

With a metallic thump

My heart fills everything.

Catastrophe.

The heart collides with a star.

Darkness.

But it was one moment.

A new flash of unquenchable light

Embraced the morning dawn.

XVIII. Dynamo I must put

On the watermill.

Day and night it snorts.

So ancient,

All in green slime, in lichen,

Shaking her grey beard,

Shaking off the glacial age.

Foamy slopes spill from the weir.

And wooden lips sip insatiably

Out of the pond bowl:

The water curving, glossy back,

Unconsciously tops the turbine.

Crunching bones and cartilage

In stone teeth.

There's a clatter, a chant.

Grinding words sprinkle down:

- If with longing and laziness

If the head is clouded with laziness...

And the brain of the laziness

"If the brain of a lazy mind..,

Go to the mill

To spin the millstones.

The stone jaw chews and hums.

- Turn the millstone,

Turn the millstone!...

A thin squeak pierces through:

- Don't be a fool, don't be a fool!

I work for days and nights.

With what love I gather

The rusty body of the motor.

I stroke every part with a file.

And I caress the screws with the sandpaper

And every joint.

The mill foams and makes noise,

The hissing and hissing

And the hissing of hostile voices.

Shadows wave

Thickets and reeds

The woody ribs and the reeds

Into wooden ribs.

The blades

Above my head.

But my chisel under the hammer

The shrieks are more and more beggarly,

It cleaves this hiss,

The darkness

And the tongue of condensed chaos.

It slashes like the first cries

Of nascent life.

White dust snorts

From stone nostrils,

Blinding and suffocating.

The millstones are rolling

They want to snatch me,

But I am in creative flame.

Light fever shakes all my tissues

Shakes all my tissues.

With every movement of thought and muscle

Spreading gigantic

Electromagnetic waves.

They pierce the wooden womb

Of the mill.

- Dynamo,

How much joyous wine in you

And light fermentation!

The girl is my companion,

She helps me.

So timidly she takes

The iron parts, -

As if they would bite,

She gives me her tools, she burns them.

But sometimes

With tense and unmoving gaze,

Like a bird under fire,

She looks at me.

With what thoughts does this soul of the mill and the forest

The soul of the mill and the forest?

Whispers:

- I do not understand,

I don't understand how it's possible

Out of lifeless iron bones

To create a living body,

A wonderful body

In which the sun beats...

The mermaid's eyes weep.

She trembles in anticipation

Of the extraordinary

The unknown never to be known.

From sweeps and strokes I sweat.

That smell alarms her,

Her nostrils swell like a beast's.

At dusk she kissed

The blisters on my hands.

Rust stained her lips.

She has known the sweetness

And bitterness

The power of

And the passion of iron

XIX. The first light bulb flashed.

From what nebula,

What star rolled down.

Into those muddy reeds!

The crowd of men swayed -

The electric fingers pushed

The stone men,

Crushed with light.

Through straw beards flowed,

The smiles of smiles were wreathed.

Choking, they swallow the new light,

Drinking and drinking, handfuls and handfuls

From the spring of light,

"From the spring of light that bursts beneath the hand of man.

The sluice sobbed desperately

And hangs in foamy tresses.

On the skeletons of trees,

On the poles

We hung light nerves.

The wooden bones of the village squeezed.

With log ribs,

With brass muscles.

Hundreds of electric stings

Stabbed into the hearts of beasts

And men's hearts.

In the centuries-old blindness of the windows,

"The windows, smoked with matches,

The constellations have flashed.

New eyes have opened on the world.

Mikhail Gerasimov 1922


 

Retrieved from: https://goelro.mosmuseum.ru/poem/

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