The full text of the poem "Clouds in Pants" is as follows:
Why do you call me a poet
I'm not a poet
I'm nothing but a weeping child
You see
I have only tears scattered to silence
Why do you call me a poet
My sorrows are those of all men's misfortune
I have had trifling joys
so trifling
that if I told them to you
I would have been a little more than a little more than a trifle.
I've had insignificant joys
So insignificant
If I told you about them
I'd blush with shame
Today I thought of death
I want to die
Just because I'm weary
Just because the portraits of angels on the cathedral glass windows
Make me Tremble out of love and sorrow
Just because
And now I am meek as a mirror
Like an unfortunate and sad mirror
You see
I am not a poet
I am only a sad child who wants to go to his death
You do not wonder at my sadness
You also Don't ask me
I'll only say things to you that are so futile
So futile
that I'll really just cry like
I'm about to die
My tears
are as sad as your rosary beads when you pray
But I'm not a poet
I'm just a meek
a contemplative child
I love the ordinary life of everything
I see passions fading away
for the sake of those who have left us
but you laugh at me
you don't understand me
I think
I'm a sick man
I I'm a sick man indeed
I die a little bit every day
I can see
just like those things
I'm not a poet
I know
that in order to be called a poet
one should live a completely different life
The sky, in the smoke
is forgotten. The blue skies of oblivion
as if they were ragged fugitive clouds
I've used them all to render this last love
which is as bright and colorful
as the blush on the face of a consumptive
your thoughts
disappeared in the rubbed softness of your minds
as the fat servants in the greasy couch.
I will tease it
Make it hit the shards of my bloody heart
Rash and pungent I
Will tease it to my heart's content
Not a single gray hair in my soul
Nor is there an old man's warmth and haggardness in it
I shake the world with the power of my throat
With the power of my throat
I come forward. p>
Come forward - I'm strangely handsome
I'm only twenty-two years old
Rude men beat love on a timpani
Warm men
Play love on a fiddle
Neither of you can turn yourselves over as I have done
Make me Turn my whole body into two lips
Come and meet me--
From the parlor of the veil-clad
Demure and polite noblewoman in the procession of angels
Like a female chef flipping through the pages of a cookbook
You turn your lips serenely
If you are willing to turn yourself over as I do.
If you want me to--
I could become a man mad with carnal desire
changing my moods
like the sky that is sometimes clear and sometimes cloudy
If you want me to--
I could become unimpeachably warm
Not a man
But a cloud in pants
I don't believe
that there'll be a florid-fangled Ness
I'm coming back to sing the praises of
Men who are put to bad sleep like hospitals
Women who are used and abused like mottos
If you want Expanded:
The long poem titled "Clouds in Trousers," written at the end of 1915, is the work of the poet Mayakovsky's masterpiece, and is named after the first movement, "Down with your love". The poem is dedicated to his muse, Lily, the woman for whom he put a bullet through his heart and left behind.
This means that the poem is at the same time bleak and sad. The poet never married and never aged, although he was 37 and middle-aged when he ended his life, he was always young, always living in his "twenty-two year old passion", a poem of burning passion, but also a poem of sadness.
Before the October Revolution, the masterpiece of the long poem "Clouds in Pants" is said to be written to the first love, this poem has four parts, here is only the prelude.
This long poem was written in 1914-1915.
Originally titled The Thirteenth Apostle, Mayakovsky says in the preface, "The Cloud in Trousers I consider to be the basic idea of contemporary art: 'Down with your love,' 'Down with your art ', 'Down with your institutions', 'Down with your religion' - these are the four slogans of the four movements. "
This long poem is dedicated to Lil, Yo, and Burik, who was Mayakovsky's closest girlfriend.
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