A PSALM TO IRON
I
We hate accursed copper,
concrete and raw iron!
Oh, what’s that in the field, what’s that sound –
is it Tartars, Turks, or Huns?
We emerge in the morning as though from a cave –
it’s smoldering throughout the land!..
Swords instead of flowers, spears
glisten in the valley...
It bursts – it strikes – it thunders through,
growing quiet beyond the mountain –
already it’s rushing, already it’s roaring
high over our heads;
it kicks with its hoof, begins to roar,
tosses a gray storm cloud –
and with a shout into the sky
a new psalm to iron rises.
II
Somewhere beyond the seas there is law and honor.
Beyond the ocean there is conscience.
If only the train station would run, would roar,
would rouse industry!
The city is sick: a cough, blood.
Crows and jackdaws at the corpse...
Only sometimes, as if in a dream,
music and catalfalques can appear.
And a rumor circulates: the general
escaped from the city in the morning.
They’ll probably surrender without a battle
when the rebels surround them.
A factory is quiet – it doesn’t drink or eat,
mold has filtered in from below...
And silently into the sky
a new psalm to iron rises.
III
The blessed hour passed like a dream
of the Gothic and Baroque.
An iron renaissance approaches,
and squints its indifferent eye.
It’s all the same to us, God, or the devil –
both of them are generals for us! –
Cathedrals raised their eyebrows,
the city’s neighborhoods scattered.
Above the city are wails and laments,
like feathers from a feather bed...
The early green evening
fainted, shouted, and fled.
What’s burning here: an archive, a museum?
throw on some kindling!
with a curse into the heavens
a new psalm to iron rises.
IV
What the hell do we need power for?
Give us some bread, something to eat! –
And communists march and sing
behind the insurrectionists.
Wait comrades,
we’ll be eating and drinking yet.
Just help us
smash the capitalists.
The workers walk on
in a cheerful gait.
Covered in ribbons and flowers,
just like a young bride.
The sun coos in the trees,
a turtledove along a cornice...
Into the sky in red
a new psalm to iron rises.
1920