Konstantin Mikhailovich Simonov Poems

It is as if my friends are marching
And I along with them, in time,
Through many different streets they're passing,
Those nearest, dearest friends of mine.
...

In Vyazma is an ancient house
Which once one night was home to us.

That night we ate whatever came,
...

When you come back into your town,
And women come to meet you there
And hold above their greying heads
The children high into the air,
...

That's how we live, without forgetting,
Today it's him, tomorrow I.
The cup of death goes round the table
And each must wait his turn to die.
...

In a dream, I saw a wedding
And I think the bride was you.
You the bride and I a beggar
At the porch - it may be true!
...

You get from time to time a man
Who's every woman's silent friend -
A friend without ulterior aim,
A friend on whom she can depend.
...

With glass a thousand miles thick
Parting has glazed the windows of your flat;
And I look through, as from another world,
But not a sound is audible through that.
...

The sense that love is coming's worse
Than love itself. Love is like war -
You've come together, eye to eye.
You're with her - nothing more in store.
...

I cannot write a single line of verse,
Not to the girl you were, nor to you now.
And after all the bitter words we've said
Why should we meet again for one more row?
...

I buried love and doomed myself to be
Its monument. Above the recent grave
Upon myself I carved a dozen lines,
Beyond my strength and posthumously brave.
...