Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, ELEGIES OVER JOHN REED, by MARYA ALEXANDROVNA ZATURENSKA


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

ELEGIES OVER JOHN REED, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Into the sad cold heart
Last Line: "I laid me down to die."
Variant Title(s): They Bury Him
Subject(s): Reed, John (1887-1920)


THEY BURY HIM IN THE KREMLIN

Into the sad cold heart
Of sleeping Russia they laid
The dreamer from the West
Among the buried Tsars of ancient Muscovy.

No holy candles burnt
There in that ancient place.
No long-haired priest
Spoke three times the blessings for the dead.

But with uncomprehending eyes
Slowly filed in
The peasants and soldiers of the new order.
Over their comrade from the west
They lifted their red flags.
This was their benediction!

Where the Old Tsars lay
In winding-sheets of gold brocade
They left the high adventurous heart
Asleep among the old shadows.

And from the hearts of the dead a whisper ran
And the graves of the old church opened and spoke:
"Who comes here to lie at our side?"
And the heart of the dead man spoke
To the dead hearts, telling
Of the new Russia and the new desolation.

Ivan the hated stirs
From his broken rest.
Katerina the lustful ceases
To dream of her dead lovers.
Boris the slain, Feodor the saint,
And the young Tsaritsas stir
In their golden shrouds.
Piotr the eager stirs:
"What was the sound I heard
Down in my grave today,
What was the scarlet flash
That came between sleep and my dead eyes?"

Said the vaults of the old church:
"He came with a scarlet flash,
With new voices, with a new song.
With new banners and a new cry."

SONG OF THE SCARLET BANNER

New York, with your loud noise
And hurrying hurried heart,
Moan him. Chicago, loud,
Blatant, with laughter, seek
Him who was once your son.
But he heard a new song, he
Followed a new star, heard
A strange voice luring him.

And ever the old bells tolled
A requiem for that high
Lonely adventurous soul.

THE ELEGY OF THE KREMLIN BELLS

Peace to the quiet dead
And the unquiet soul --
Great peace from feet to head
While floods of time shall roll!

Far from your shouting West,
Here shall this sorrowed land
Take you to her dreaming breast,
And love and understand.

Let the old bells toll,
That long have tolled for sorrow.
Peace to your lonely soul
And Russia's glad tomorrow!

Chorus

"Place over him a stone
And write with a soft sigh,
For people not my own
I laid me down to die."




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