Poems by Menis Yuri

My self-made monument I’ve not by hand created;
The people’s path to it won’t be by weeds besieged.
My statue’s wayward head is proudly elevated
Where Alexander’s Column has not reached.
No, all of me won’t die, but in the lyre I cherish
My soul will cheat the rot and past the dust survive...

Oh, if it’s true that in the night
When sleep has overcome the living
And from the sky the moonbeams glide
Across the tombstones unforgiving,
Oh, if it’s true that there appear
All those from graves and leave them hollow...

None of the people’s love, o poet, hanker after!
The fleeting noise of adulation will have passed;
You’ll hear judgement from buffoons and crowds’ chilling laughter —
All that aside, you, be serene and sullen and steadfast.
You are the tsar: live on your own. And in your kingdom
Roam free and choose the path on which free thought will guide...

The frantic years of romps and burned-out laughter
Are hard on me like aches the morning after.
But like the wine that always takes its toll,
Past woes get stronger aging in my soul.
I ride through gloom. There is but toil and sorrow
I see in troubled waters of tomorrow...

Clouds are surging, clouds are swerving;
Indiscernible, the moon
Lights the snowstorm madly swirling;
Sky’s all darkness, night’s all gloom.
On and on… I keep on riding,
And the sleigh bell goes ding-dong...

If I should roam a bustling city
Or enter churches with a crowd
Or sit with youths, now wild, now witty,
I ponder dreamy thoughts out loud.
I say: the years will keep on rolling.
Though many seem to be in luck...

The hills of Georgia are engulfed by shades of night;
Aragva thunders through the blackness.
I’m sorrowful and soothed; my sadness has been bright;
It’s you who fills me with this sadness,
It’s you, it’s you alone… My sorrow does remain
Unruffled, undisturbed — and nothing...

I loved you, yet my heart still makes me wonder
If all my love turned cold — perhaps not quite,
But may it nevermore disturb your slumber;
Upsetting you is furthest from my mind.
I loved you but was sad and silent oddly,
Now timorous, now jealous to excess...

Wasteful gift, a gift so random,
Life, you’re granted me — but why?
Why by destiny unfathomed
You are sentenced and shall die?
Whose command in hostile fashion
Claimed me from the lowest kind...

A casual slip — and she replaced
The vacant “you” with “thou” endearing,
Thus all glad dreams that I have chased
To hopes of love quite firmly steering.
In front of her I cannot budge;
I feast my eyes till I am giddy...

We were quite many in the boat;
Some strained the sail to keep it flying;
Some stubbornly continued prying
The depth with mighty oars. Afloat
We stayed led by our skillful helmsman,
Who calmly steered the heavy craft...

Until Apollo has him summoned
To bring a hallowed sacrifice,
The poet like a common coward
In high life’s vanity survives.
His sacred lyre has long been hidden;
Chill slumber holds his soul in thrall...

Deep down forlorn Siberian mines,
Do not let go of solemn patience;
Your mournful toils will sway the minds,
So will your noble aspirations.
A faithful sister of distress,
The faintest hope in putrid dungeons...

When stricken by spiritual thirst,
Through gloomy sands I plodded onwards,
A six-winged seraph came to earth
And stood before me at a crossroads.
With weightless fingers of a dream
He gave my eyes a touch unseen...

I love you though with rage I seethe,
Though it is shameful, futile wholly,
And to my miserable folly
I am confessing at your feet!
Yes, at my age it’s unbecoming…
It’s time I wisened up enough...

The forest drops its garb in crimson rich;
The frosted field is silvery and faded;
Reluctant daylight shows and, soon dissuaded,
Conceals itself behind a nearby ridge.
Keep burning, fireplace, and warm the lonely rover,
And you, my wine, a friend of autumn chills...

Watch the blizzard wrap in shadows
Troubled skies and blasts blow wild.
Now a beast, it howls and harrows,
Now just whimpers like a child;
Now it rustles on the rooftop
Through the thatch in hopes to pass...

Do keep me safe, my talisman;
Keep safe through days when I am banished,
Days I am penitent or anguished;
The day they gave me you was glum.
When ocean waves arise and run
And roar their threats to pull me under...

Should you find that life deceived you,
Don’t be sorry, don’t be mad!
Take in stride the day you’re sad;
Trust: a day of mirth will preview.
Future is the heart’s best chance;
Present is by far too dreary...

Why’s feasting not raucous enough?
Bring Bacchic songs on with a vengeance!
Hail, all the affectionate maidens
And wives who have blossomed to give us their love!
Let’s pour to the brim of our glasses!
Let each of us fling...