He, who was born in stagnant year <br />Does not remember own way. <br />We, kids of Russia's years of fear, <br />Remember every night and day. <br /> <br />Years that burned everything to ashes! <br />Do you bring madness or grace? <br />The war's and freedom's fire flashes <br />Left bloody light on every face. <br /> <br />We are struck dumb: the toxsin's pressure <br />Has made us tightly close lips. <br />In living hearts, once full of pleasure, <br />The fateful desert now sleeps. <br /> <br />And let the crying ravens soar <br />Right over our death-bed, <br />May those who were striving more, <br />O God, behold Thy Kingdom's Great!<br /><br />Aleksandr Aleksandrovich Blok<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/he-who-was-born/
