possible new favorite poem
Hamlet
by Boris Pastenak
The buzz subsides. I have come on the stage.
Leaning in an open door
I try to detect from the echo
What the future has in store.
A thousand opera-glasses level
The dark, point-blank, at me.
Aba, Father, if it be possible
Let this cup pass from me.
I love your preordained design
And am ready to play the role.
But the play being acted is not mine.
For this once let me go.
But the order of the acts is planned,
The end of the road already revealed.
Alone among the Pharisees I stand.
Life is not a stroll across a field.
To be quite honest I am not sure why I like it so much ... Perhaps it is because because I can relate to it?
by Boris Pastenak
The buzz subsides. I have come on the stage.
Leaning in an open door
I try to detect from the echo
What the future has in store.
A thousand opera-glasses level
The dark, point-blank, at me.
Aba, Father, if it be possible
Let this cup pass from me.
I love your preordained design
And am ready to play the role.
But the play being acted is not mine.
For this once let me go.
But the order of the acts is planned,
The end of the road already revealed.
Alone among the Pharisees I stand.
Life is not a stroll across a field.
To be quite honest I am not sure why I like it so much ... Perhaps it is because because I can relate to it?