The Granite Lord (1923)

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ГРАНИТНЫЙ БАРИНЪ

Парижъ, Нью-Iоркъ, Берлинъ и Лондонъ!
Какой аккордъ! Но пусть ихъ Рокъ!
Всѣмъ четыремъ одинъ шаблонъ дань,
Одинъ и тотъ - же котелокъ!

Ревутъ: моторы, люди, стѣны,
Гудки, витрины, провода...
И, обалдѣвши совершенно,
По крышамъ лупятъ поѣзда!

Отъ санкюлотовъ до бомонда,
Въ одномъ порывѣ вѣковомъ,
Парижъ, Нью-Iоркъ, Берлинъ и Лондонъ
Несутся вскачъ за пятакомъ!..

И, въ этой сутолкѣ всемiрной,
Одинъ на цѣлый Мiръ вокругъ -
Брезгливо поднялъ бровь Ампирный
Гранитный баринъ Петербургъ!

Николай Агнивцев

The Granite Lord

Paris, New York, Berlin and London!
Oh what a chord! But let them be.
All four are cut by the same template,
And made to wear the same top hat.

The roar of motors, walls and people,
Of wires, signals and vitrines...
And to complete the crazy picture
The trains are running on the roofs!

The poor, the rich and all the other,
United by the age-old drive,
Paris, New York, Berlin and London
Are galloping to catch the dime.

Surrounded by this worldly hassle,
Disdainful at the whole wide world,
Imperially raised his eyebrow
Saint Petersburg, the granite lord.

Nikolay Agnivtsev

Russian poetry about 1920s Berlin