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Boris Pasternak - Crossed Oars
Work rating: Low

My boat throbbed in the drowsy depths,

willows bowed, kissing collarbones,

elbows and rowlocks – oh wait, yes,

all of this might happen to anyone!

 

Isn’t it all just trivial…a singing.

Isn’t its meaning – the lilac petals on

water, camomile’s sensuous sinking

lip on lip, into starry extinction!

 

Isn’t its meaning – clasping the sky,

arms embracing mighty Hercules,

isn’t its meaning – for endless lives,

squandering on nightingales your glory!
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