A boat came in; the cliff was baked;
The noisy boat-chain fell and clanked on
The sand-an iron rattle-snake,
A rattling rust among the plankton.
And two got out; and from the cliff
I felt like calling down, ‘Forgive me,
But would you kindly throw yourselves
Apart or else into the river?
Your miming is without a fault-
Of course the seeker finds the fancied-
But stop this playing with the boat!
Your model on the cliff resents it.’
(Boris Pasternak)
More Poetry from Boris Pasternak:
- The Wind(Four fragments concerning Blok) (Boris Pasternak Poems)
- Black spring! Pick up your pen, and weeping... (Boris Pasternak Poems)
- Fairy Tale (Boris Pasternak Poems)
- 1918 (Boris Pasternak Poems)
- Wet Paint (Boris Pasternak Poems)
- From A Poem (Boris Pasternak Poems)