The Lammas sun has gone
Beyond the glassed face, fish
swim through mulm like ghosts
who haunt cellar barrels
sifting gassed yeast broth;
I'll net you a drink, neck
the skin that sheens from nape
to blade, sift the hairs
weaving your back in whorls -
and after? There is no after.
This face is glassed, the glass
is froth; ghost-white worms
sift mulm, feed fish, swim on.
"I was washing outside in the yard..." : poem by Osip Mandelstam (1921)
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A poem by Osip Mandelstam, written in 1921. Russian original, recited (*ochin,
ochin* amateurishly) by me.
2 days ago
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