Vladimir Vladimirovich Mayakovsky Poems

1

She loves me-loves me not.
My hands I pick
...

Violin was torn to pieces begging,
And then broke out in tears
So childishly,
That Drum couldn't handle it any longer,
...

Some words.
Heavy as a blow.
'Render unto Caesar what is Caesar's- to God what is God's.'
...

I will sew myself black trousers
from the velvet of my voice.
And from three yards of sunset, a yellow blouse.
...

You think malaria makes me delirious?

It happened.
...

Your thoughts,
dreaming on a softened brain,
like an over-fed lackey on a greasy settee,
with my heart's bloody tatters I'll mock again;
...

Tobacco smoke has consumed the air.
The room
is a chapter in Kruchenykh's inferno.
Remember -
...

Listen,
if stars are lit
it means - there is someone who needs it.
It means - someone wants them to be,
...

You have passed, as they say, into worlds elsewhere.
Emptiness...
Fly, cutting your way into starry dubiety.
...

A hundred suns the sunset fired,
into July summer shunted,
it was so hot,
even heat perspired-
...