Yevgeny Yevtushenko

Rookie (18 July 1933 / Zima Junction, Siberia)

Yevgeny Yevtushenko Poems

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

Comments about Yevgeny Yevtushenko

  • Yevtushenko wrote a poem for Kent State (11/17/2018 5:47:00 PM)

    Where is his poem Flowers & Bullets written for my sister Allison Krause? He wrote it in May 1970.

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Best Poem of Yevgeny Yevtushenko

Being Late

Something dangerous is beginning:
I am coming late to my own self.
I made an appointment with my thoughts-
the thoughts were snatched from me.
I made an appointment with Faulkner-
but they made me go to a banquet.
I made an appointment with history,
but a grass-widow dragged me into bed.
Worse than barbed wire
are birthday parties, mine and others',
and roasted suckling pigs hold me
like a sprig of parsley between their teeth!
Led away for good
to a life absolutely not my own,
everything that I eat, eats me,
everything that I drink, drinks ...

Read the full of Being Late

Antedeluvian

The woman walked past Execution Block
on Red Square
carrying rolls of toilet paper,
twenty at least,
not in her arms,
but on twine hanging from her neck.
These are the necklaces of Mother Russia today!
And this woman-
my God! -was almost proud,

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