I had not tried the wine that ancients made,
And had not heard of Ossian’s old tune;
So why, on earth, I seem to see the glade,
And, in the skies — the bloody Scottish moon?
And the call-over of a raven with a harp
I faintly hear in that silence, full of fright,
And, spread by winds, the winter woolen scarves
Of knights are flashing in the red moonlight!
I had received the blessing to inherit
Another singer’s ever rambling dreams;
For kin’s and neighbor’s spiritual merits
To have despise we’re absolutely free.
And not a lone treasure, I suppose,
Will pass grandchildren and to others fling,
Again a scald will ancient songs compose,
And, as his own, will again them sing.
(Osip Emilevich Mandelstam)
More Poetry from Osip Emilevich Mandelstam:
Osip Emilevich Mandelstam Poems based on Topics: Wine, Dreams, Silence, Winter, Blessings, Religions & Spirituality- The Menagerie (Osip Emilevich Mandelstam Poems)
- Straw (Osip Emilevich Mandelstam Poems)
- "The thick golden stream of honey took so long" (Osip Emilevich Mandelstam Poems)
- If I am to know how to restrain your hands (Osip Emilevich Mandelstam Poems)
- "If I am to know how to restrain your hands" (Osip Emilevich Mandelstam Poems)
- "In Petersburg we'll meet again" (Osip Emilevich Mandelstam Poems)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Dreams Poems, Silence Poems, Winter Poems, Wine Poems, Blessings Poems, Religions & Spirituality PoemsBased on Keywords: woolen, scald, call-over