Rupert John Cornford
Sergei Mironovitch Kirov
Nothing is ever certain, nothing is ever safe,
To-day is overturning yesterday's settled good.
Everything dying keeps a hungry grip on life.
Nothing is ever born without screaming and blood.
Understand the weapon, understand the wound:
What shapeless past was hammered to action by his deeds,
Only in constant action was his constant certainty found.
He will throw a longer shadow as time recedes.
Online text copyright © 2009, Ian Lancashire (the Department of English) and the University of Toronto.
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Comments about this poem (Sergei Mironovitch Kirov by Rupert John Cornford )
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