It’s February. Weeping, take ink.
Find words in a sobbing rush
For February, while black spring
Burns through the rumbling slush.

And take a cab. Ride for a rouble
Through wheel racket and bells’ throbbing
To where the downpour makes more din
Than the sound of ink and sobbing;

Where rooks in thousands, like charred pears
Windfallen from their branch-thick skies,
Drop into puddles and bring down
Desolation deep into dry eyes.

Thawed patches underneath show black,
The wind is furrowed with cries, and then,
The more suddenly the more surely,
Verses sob from the pen.


Boris Pasternak



3 responses to “February

  1. Karen Bates

    That’s a quite powerful poem. I enjoy reading y

  2. Karen Bates

    oops … your posts. Do let me know if there are any similarly decent readings in town. Regards Karen

  3. Thanks Karen, nice to get your comments. My friend Lila’s reading at the Caesura night on Friday and I think you might quite like her stuff. I posted about a magazine she was in here, in case you didn’t see it: https://permanentpositions.wordpress.com/2012/11/12/266/

    Here’s the facebook page for the Caesura event here: https://www.facebook.com/events/241840639283498/?fref=ts

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