December 11, 2013

Osip Mandelstam

"A flame is in my blood"

A flame is in my blood 
burning dry life, to the bone.
I do not sing of stone, 
now, I sing of wood. 

It is light and coarse: 
made of a single spar, 
the oak’s deep heart, 
and the fisherman’s oar. 

Drive them deep, the piles: 
hammer them in tight,
around wooden Paradise, 
where everything is light.

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