Vladimir Mayakovsky 1929

Conversation

with Comrade Lenin

Source: 20th Century Russian Literature.

Awhirl with events,

packed with jobs one too many,

the day slowly sinks

as the night shadows fall.

There are two in the room:

I

and Lenin-

a photograph

on the whiteness of wall.

The stubble slides upward

above his lip

as his mouth

jerks open in speech.

The tense

creases of brow

hold thought

in their grip,

immense brow

matched by thought immense.

A forest of flags,

raised-up hands thick as grass...

Thousands are marching

beneath him...

Transported,

alight with joy,

I rise from my place,

eager to see him,

hail him,

report to him!

“Comrade Lenin,

I report to you -

(not a dictate of office,

the heart’s prompting alone)

This hellish work

that we’re out to do

will be done

and is already being done.

We feed and we clothe

and give light to the needy,

the quotas

for coal

and for iron

fulfill,

but there is

any amount

of bleeding

muck

and rubbish

around us still.

Without you,

there’s many

have got out of hand,

all the sparring

and squabbling

does one in.

There’s scum

in plenty

hounding our land,

outside the borders

and also

within.

Try to

count ’em

and

tab ’em -

it’s no go,

there’s all kinds,

and they’re

thick as nettles:

kulaks,

red tapists,

and,

down the row,

drunkards,

sectarians,

lickspittles.

They strut around

proudly

as peacocks,

badges and fountain pens

studding their chests.

We’ll lick the lot of ’em-

but

to lick ’em

is no easy job

at the very best.

On snow-covered lands

and on stubbly fields,

in smoky plants

and on factory sites,

with you in our hearts,

Comrade Lenin,

we build,

we think,

we breathe,

we live,

and we fight!”

Awhirl with events,

packed with jobs one too many,

the day slowly sinks

as the night shadows fall.

There are two in the room:

I

and Lenin -

a photograph

on the whiteness of wall.