The falling is the constant mate of fear,
And feel of emptiness is the feel of fright.
Who throws us the stones from the height --
And stones here refuse the dust to bear?
Once, striding in a monk-s unbending mode,
You pierced the yard from rim to other rim;
The cobble-stones and the coarse dream --
Have thirst for death and sadness of the broad-
Let Gothic shelter be in ruins turned
Where ceiling serves as a deceptive fable,
And in the heath the gaily logs don-t burn!
A few here for eternity were born;
But if your mind has only instant label
Your lot is awful and your home unstable!
The Falling Is The Constant Mate Of Fear
Osip Emilevich Mandelstam
(1)
Poem topics: death, dream, fear, home, deceptive, eternity, mind, dust, constant, label, feel, I love you, I miss you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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