Yevgeny Yevtushenko

Rookie (18 July 1933 / Zima Junction, Siberia)

Yevgeny Yevtushenko Poems

1. The Mrk Of Cain 8/18/2007
2. We Should Be Stingier 8/18/2007
3. Verlaine 8/18/2007
4. Pasternak's Grave 8/18/2007
5. Irpen 8/18/2007
6. The Execution Of Stenka Razin 8/17/2007
7. In The Wax Museum At Hamburg 8/18/2007
8. Prologue 8/18/2007
9. Tomorrow's Wind 8/18/2007
10. In Jest 8/18/2007
11. Monologue Of A Polar Fox On An Alaskan Fur Farm 8/18/2007
12. Pitching And Reeling 8/18/2007
13. Poetry Gives Off Smoke 8/18/2007
14. My Handwriting 8/18/2007
15. Weddings 8/18/2007
16. Vietnam Classic 8/18/2007
17. Again, A Meeting 8/15/2007
18. The Inexpressible 8/18/2007
19. Assignation 8/17/2007
20. My Universities 8/18/2007
21. No, I'Ll No Take Half 8/18/2007
22. On The Question Of Freedom 8/18/2007
23. Momma 8/18/2007
24. Let's Not... 8/18/2007
25. Monologue Of An American Poet 8/18/2007
26. Eight Year Old Poet 8/17/2007
27. Murder 8/18/2007
28. Antedeluvian 8/17/2007
29. Disbelief In Yourself Is Indispensable 8/17/2007
30. Monologue Of A Broadway Actress 8/18/2007
31. Once People 8/18/2007
32. Idol 8/17/2007
33. Black Bandillera 8/17/2007
34. Wounds 8/18/2007
35. The Mail Cutter 8/18/2007
36. I Dreamed I Already 8/17/2007
37. I'M An Angel 8/17/2007
38. Waiting 8/18/2007
39. Psychotherapy 8/18/2007
40. The Depth 8/17/2007

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Best Poem of Yevgeny Yevtushenko

Humor

Tsars, Kings, Emperors,
sovereigns of all the earth,
have commanded many a parade,
but they could not command humor.
When Aesop, the tramp, came visiting
the palaces of eminent personages
ensconced in sleek comfort all day,
they struck him as paupers.
In houses, where hypocrites have
left the smear of their puny feet,
there Hodja-Nasr-ed-Din, with his jests,
swept clean all meanness
like a board of chessmen!
They tried to commission humor-
but humor is not to be bought!
They tried to murder humor,
but humor thumbed his nose at them! ...

Read the full of Humor

Alder Catkin

Whenever the wind
drops an alder catkin into my palm,
or a cuckoo calls merrily,
with trains screaming by,
I fall to reflecting,
and struggle to grasp life’s meaning,
and, as usual, arrive
at the place where it slips from my grasp.
Reducing oneself

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