Sunday, February 1, 2009


By Pavel Chichikov

Supposing there should be astonishment,
All our fondest suppositions stripped,
The face revealed behind the firmament,
The universe become a small cockpit

A theater round us rising in its rows,
Ranks of powers, principalities,
Great guardians and elemental foes,
Angel armies, demon ministries

Cosmic war, advances and retreats
To which we go as ignorant as bees
To anything but nectar and the hive;
A breaking in, a luminous assault,
Incursions of the sun to make us see
What mystery it is to be alive


The Poetry of Pavel Chichikov

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