Boris Pasternak

(10 February 1890 - 30 May 1960 / Moscow)

Boris Pasternak Poems

1. The Drowsy Garden 5/27/2014
2. From Early Dawn The Thirtieth Of April... 4/3/2010
3. From A Poem 4/3/2010
4. I Hang Limp On The Creator's Pen 4/3/2010
5. Humble Home. But Rum, And Charcoal... 4/3/2010
6. The Patient's Sweater 4/3/2010
7. Here A Riddle Has Drawn A Strange Nailmark 4/3/2010
8. Here Will Be Echoes In The Mountains... 4/3/2010
9. I Grew. Foul Weather, Dreams, Forebodings... 4/3/2010
10. The Swifts (1) 4/3/2010
11. Try And Don'T Let Me Grieve 4/3/2010
12. So They Begin. With Two Years Gone... 4/3/2010
13. Feasts 4/3/2010
14. The Patient Watches 4/3/2010
15. Wet Paint 4/3/2010
16. With Oars At Rest 4/3/2010
17. Here—now—our Age Of Socialism!... 4/3/2010
18. The Garden Scatters Burnt-Up Beetles... 4/3/2010
19. Swifts (2) 4/3/2010
20. Without A Title 4/3/2010
21. My Desk Is Not So Wide That I Might Lean 4/3/2010
22. The Linden Avenue 4/3/2010
23. I Would Go Home Again—to Rooms... 4/3/2010
24. Oh Terrible, Beloved! A Poet's Loving 4/3/2010
25. Things Of Great Worth Shall Come To Pass... 4/3/2010
26. To Boris Pilnyak 4/3/2010
27. Imitators 4/3/2010
28. Your Picture 4/3/2010
29. White Night 4/3/2010
30. You Are Disappointed? You Thought... 4/3/2010
31. On A Fateful Day, An Unlucky Time 4/3/2010
32. Margarita 4/3/2010
33. How Few Are We. Probably Three... 4/3/2010
34. When It Clears Up 4/3/2010
35. Out Of Superstition 4/3/2010
36. Fiat 4/3/2010
37. Thunderstorm, Instantaneous Forever 4/3/2010
38. The Spring-It Had Simply Been You 4/3/2010
39. The Weeping Garden 4/3/2010
40. Unique Days 4/3/2010

Comments about Boris Pasternak

  • Jay Warier (7/19/2009 11:14:00 AM)

    Could you please include Themes and Variations to enrich the sparse collection? There are some very good poems in there.

    9 person liked.
    5 person did not like.
Best Poem of Boris Pasternak

A Dream

I dreamt of autumn in the window's twilight,
And you, a tipsy jesters' throng amidst. '
And like a falcon, having stooped to slaughter,
My heart returned to settle on your wrist.

But time went on, grew old and deaf. Like thawing
Soft ice old silk decayed on easy chairs.
A bloated sunset from the garden painted
The glass with bloody red September tears.

But time grew old and deaf. And you, the loud one,
Quite suddenly were still. This broke a spell.
The dreaming ceased at once, as though in answer
To an abruptly silenced bell.

And I ...

Read the full of A Dream

March

The sun is hotter than the top ledge in a steam bath;
The ravine, crazed, is rampaging below.
Spring -- that corn-fed, husky milkmaid --
Is busy at her chores with never a letup.

The snow is wasting (pernicious anemia --
See those branching veinlets of impotent blue?)
Yet in the cowbarn life is burbling, steaming,
And the tines of pitchforks simply glow with health.

[Report Error]