Poetry of Stalin

  1. Yet_Another_Boring_Marxist
    Yet_Another_Boring_Marxist
    When the shining moon
    Glides across the sky,
    Illuminating the horizon
    With its sparkling light;

    When the nightingale’s song
    Echoes softly through the air;
    When the flute’s tender note
    Reaches the mountain top;

    When the fugitive banished from home
    Is free to return to his wounded country,

    When the blinded cripple
    Is able again to see the moon and sun;

    Then I, abused, abandon my grief,
    And in my poor heart
    Reappears hope
    For a prosperous future;

    My soul seems happy,
    And the heart is tranquil,

    And yet, will this hope hold true
    That overfills me today?

    Soselo (Stalin)
    22 September, 1895

    _____

    The rosebud flowered
    Entwining the violet.
    And Iris awoke
    Greening in the breeze

    The lark sang its tune
    High up in the clouds.
    And the nightingale joined
    In the jubilant song:

    May you prosper my beautiful country
    Land of Iberia, blossom and thrive!

    And you my studious and diligent Georgian
    Acquire the knowledge your fatherland needs!

    J J-shvilli
    14. June 1895

    _____

    Our Ninika is old
    His bravery left him . . .
    How could old age
    Take his iron strength away?

    How often you could see him
    With swift vitality
    Swinging his sickle across the valley
    Using his vigorous skill.

    He piled mountain upon mountain
    Of the corn that he cut,
    Until his perspiring face
    Turned crimson!
    And now he cannot even move
    His old crippled legs.
    He lies and dreams a lot,
    Or tells his grandsons stories of his past . . .

    Sometimes when a song is heard
    From the nearby valleys,
    His brave heart
    Starts to beat stronger;

    He rises up despite his frailty,
    Leaning on his crutches
    And delightedly glances
    And smiles at the boy . . .

    Soselo (Stalin)
    July, 1895

    _____

    Move on tirelessly –
    Don’t let your head droop,
    Disperse the misty clouds,
    The rule of the Lord is great.

    Send your gentle smile to the land
    That spreads beneath your feet,
    Sing a lullaby to the icy peaks
    Suspended from the sky.

    Be sure that someday
    Even the deprived and humiliated
    Find the strength to climb
    Up the sacred mountain
    Supported by hope.

    Keep shining, beautiful one
    Among the clouds as long ago,
    Cast your delightful rays
    Through the blue firmament.

    And I too, will unbutton my collar
    Baring my breast to the moon,
    Reaching out my hands
    And singing a song of glory to the moonlight.

    Soselo (Stalin)
    October, 1895