Aleksandar Aleksandrovič Blok

Aleksandar Blok
(1880-1921 )

Ruski liričar, predstavnik ruskog simbolizma. Odrastao u intelektualnoj sredini, sve do revolucije 1917. živi otuđeno od društvenoga kretanja, ali revolucionarno zbivanje 1905—1917. odjekuje u slutnjama, nagovještajima, muzici i napokon — temama njegovih pjesama. Od prvoga zbornika Pjesme o divnoj dami (Stihi o
prekrasnoj dame, 1898—1904) B. je prvenstveno lirski pjesnik, koji, stvarajući zagonetne osobne simbole, od apstraktnog lika "divne dame" prelazi na gradske
teme i motive u Nehotičnoj radosti (Nečajannaja radost, 1907) i oblikuje lik "neznanke", zagonetne stanovnice gradske periferije. Ujedno u melodioznim stihovima, punim nedorečenosti, slutnji i simbola, razvija svoju metaforičnost, ironiju i groteskni duh, kada je riječ o stvarnosti;mijenja i ritmičke osobine ruskoga stiha. Treći je veliki ciklus njegove lirike posvećen socijalnim temama, a prije svega domovini — Rusiji. Sadržava liriku
u Na Kulikovu polju (Na pole Kulikovom, 1908), nezavršenu poemu Osveta (Vozme^die, 1910—19) i Jambe (1907—14). U tematski, motivski i ritmički raznolikoj poemi Dvanaestorica (Dvanadcat', 7918) oko fabule o jednom ubojstvu B. oblikuje i zločine i patetiku revolucije, njene pijane poskočice i veličanstveni marševski ritam, da bi je blagoslovio simboličkim Kristom koji se pojavljuje pred dvanaestoricom crvenogardista. Iskoristivši tekovine prijašnje ruske lirike (Žukovski, Fet) i prvih ruskih simbolista (v. Brjusov), vezan za "duh njemačke romantike", B. je razvio emocionalnu sadržajnost, lirizam i muzikalnost ruske poezije. Njegova je lirika— poezija raspadanja "staroga
svijeta" i iščekivanja nečega novoga, što će nadoći, a što pjesnik može izraziti samo muzikom stihova. Uz lirske pjesme i poeme napisao je i niz malih "lirskih" drama, koje su tematski u uskoj vezi s njegovom poezijom.

DANAS SI IŠLA POSVE SAMA

 Danas si išla posve sama,
I ja ne vidjeh Tvojih čuda.
Na gorskom Tvome visu, tamo,
Zupčasta šuma bješe svuda.

 I ta šuma krošanja zbitih,
I ti putovi gorski tmasti
Smetahu mi se s neznanim sliti
I plavetnilom tvojim cvasti.

''Uzasne su veceri hladne''

Uzasne su veceri hladne, 

Vetar sto drhti od nespokoja,
I drumom uznemirijuci sum
Nestvarnih koraka bez broja.

Ko secanje na bolest skorasnju
Hladna je svitanja pruga,
Pouzdan znak da smo u vlasti
Neraskidivog nekog kruga.

DVANAESTORICA
... I državnim idu krokom ...
- Tko je tamo? Hajde van!
Crven barjak je visoko
Sprijeda vjetrom razigran ...

Pred njima je - nanos hladni,
- U nanosu tko je - van!
To skitnički tek pas gladni
Za njima šepesa sam...

- Bocnut ću te bajonetom,
Bjež odavde, šugavi!
Stari svijete, kužno pseto,
Bježi - da ne udarim!

... Vuk se gladni dalje vuče,
Ceri zube - rep podaviv -
Pas ozebli - pas bez kuće ...
- Hej, tko ide, daj se javi!

- Tko barjakom tamo maše?
- Gledaj samo, kakva tmina!
- Tko to žurnim trkom kaše,
Krijuć se za uglovima?

- Svejedno je, bit ćeš moj,
Bolje predaj nam se sam!
- Hej, ti druže, bit će zlo,
Izlazi da ne pucam!

Trah-tah-tah! - I samo eho
Po kućama zvoni plah ...
A mećava dugim smijehom
Zavija kroz snježni prah . ..
Trah-tah-tah!
Trah-tah-tah......
I državnim krokom tako
Idu - pas ih slijedi tragom,
Sprijeda, s krvavim barjakom,
S vijavica nedoglediv,
Od taneta nepovrediv,
Nad mećavom hodom nježnim,
I bisernim prahom snježnim,
Na njem vijenac ruža čist -
Pred njima je - Isus Krist.

PJESMA FAINE


Kad u te oko moje sije,
To usko oko, oko zmije,
I kad te Ijubim, mazim,

Ej, pazi, pazi! zmija sva sam!
Gle: samo na čas tvoja ja sam
I preko tebe gazim!

Dosadio si! Možeš poći?
Sa drugim bit ću ove noći,
Ti svoju ženu išti!

Otiđi, nek te tuge riješi,
I nek te Ijubi, nek te tješi,
Otiđi & ; bič moj zviždi!

U vrt nek dođe tko od vas,
Moj uzak crn nek vidi stas!
Izgorjeti će, neka!

Ja proljeće sam sva i plam!
Ne prilazi mi i ti sam,
Kog Ijubim, koga čekam!

Tko sijed je, tko u cvijetu Ijeta,
Tko više zvonkih da moneta,
Uz poziv može ući!

Pod mladom, lijepom - starom, sijedom"
Nad vašom glupom glavom bijednom
Ti, biču moj, fijuči! 

The Russian poet, Aleksandr Blok, died eighty-nine years ago today on 7th August 1921 at the age of forty-one. A visionary and prophet, Blok believed that the poet’s role was to serve as a conduit between this and “other worlds” and thus reveal the purpose and directions of humanity (much as Rimbaud defined this duty in his Letter of the Seer). And for his brave sojourns into “other worlds”, Blok was ably assisted by two unique and distinctive muses.

Blok first came to my attention via his Romantic-influenced poetry, Stikhi o Prekrasnoy Dame (Verses on a Beautiful Lady) – his first published collection of poems. Inspired by the woman who would be his wife, Lyubov Mendeleeva, Blok follows the tradition of poets that began with Dante and Petrarch to depict his beloved as a woman both earthly and divine, a living Sophia, and through whom is revealed a beauty which transcends her and which the poet serves through his art. Yet her beauty brings the poet little peace (indeed, the marriage between Blok and Lyubov would prove to be turbulent and doomed): “Are you evil or good? You are altogether from another world /They say strange things about you / For some you are the Muse and a miracle/ For me you are torment and hell”.

But what might have been a deathblow to another poet – the abandonment of his Muse Incarnate – signified for Blok instead a new beginning. Deeply moved by the events of World War I, the Russian Revolution and ensuing Civil War, he found a new muse in Russia herself. Blok would use his love for his country, its legends and the momentous changes that were occurring to develop the rhythmic style characterized by the symbolic and metaphysical imagery for which he is best remembered.

Unlike the majority of the Russian intelligentsia, Blok supported the 1917 Revolution which he foresaw as a spiritual awakening. It inspired his best-known poem, the twelve-part Dvenadtsat (The Twelve) – but, as would be the case with many idealists, Blok was quickly disillusioned with the Bolsheviks and Soviet bureaucracy. After the Revolution, things started well enough when throughout 1918 he was commissioned for government editorial and theatrical work. By 1919, however, he was arrested for supposed counter-revolutionary activities and nearly executed. From there it was a downward spiral of disappointment exacerbated by his lifelong vice, alcohol. By 1921 he stopped writing poetry. “I’m suffocating, suffocating, suffocating. We’re suffocating, we will all suffocate,” he wrote to a fellow artist and friend.

Aware that he was indeed suffocating, suffocating, suffocating, he made a last plea for life and applied to leave Russia. But Lenin – who was familiar with Blok’s poetry and perhaps feared the Poet’s Truth – refused to grant permission. The loss of faith proved to be the final blow and, physically and mentally unable to continue, Blok died in Petrograd from malnutrition.

Ever the prophetic poet, he penned his own epitaph.

Oh, I madly want to live,
To immortalize the fleeting,
To humanize the impersonal
To realize what was a dream.
Let the life’s heavy dream suffocate me
Let me die in this dream
Perhaps, a happy youth
Will say in the future about me
“Let us forgive his melancholy
Was it his inner essence?
He was all a child of kindness and light
He was all the triumph of freedom.” 
- Aleksandr Blok