Marrying the pure white rose and the black, black toadArchived Message
Posted by Thomas Newfield on January 30, 2019, 11:29 pm
Here's a translated poem by Sergei Yesenin written in Russia in 1923, which I thought quite an apt commentary on our times now... but more importantly on this here grand registry of info, opinion and dialectics:
One joy I have left... Translated by Lyuba Coffey
One joy I have left: My fingers in my mouth -- and a merry whistle. Infamy has come to me, That I am an abuser and scandalmonger.
Ah! What an amusing loss! There are many amusing losses in life. I am ashamed, that I did not believe in God. It is a pain, that I still do not believe.
Golden, faraway spaces! Everyday routine burns everything. I was both obscene and vulgar For burning brighter.
A poet's gift is to caress and spoil, There is destiny's seal upon him. On earth, I wanted to marry A white rose with a black toad.
---
There are three verses after that.
Here's what Sozhenitsyn writes Chapter 86 of "The First Circle", (where I heard about Yesenin) a book about the mid-stages of the decay of a cultural revolution, a near truthless desert, and life in a prison camp where tiny shoots continue to sprout.
Back in his armchair Shikin read out another passage:
'"In earthly wedlock I would join The pure white rose and the black, black toad..."
... and so on. Now what is that supposed to mean?'
The prisoner's tight-stretched throat quivered.
'It's very simple,' he replied. 'It means that no one should ever try to reconcile the white rose of truth with the black toad of evil!'
The black toad was seated in front of him in the person of this grim-faced little policeman, with his short arms and his big head.