By Alexander Blok

Above the restaurants every evening

The heated air is deaf and wild,

And reigns over the yells of drunkards

The musky spirit of spring night,

 

And far, above the dusty alley,

Above the humdrum summer homes,

A bake-shop’s pretzel speckles golden,

And somewhere sounds a baby’s bawl.

 

And every eve, behind the crossings,

While tipping their bowler rims,

The qualified and seasoned punsters

Among the gutters walk the dames.

 

Above the lakes still creak the oarlocks,

Somewhere a female wail rings out,

While in the sky, to all accustomed,

A discus twists-out pointless mugs.

 

And every evening, my sole friend is

A dim reflection in my cup,

And with a cryptic, bitter wetness

Like I, he’s deafened and turned soft.

 

And near, beside the neighbored tables,

Some sleepy lackeys stick around,

While drunkards with the eyes of rabbits

“In vino veritas!”* all shout.

 

And every night, at certain hour

(Or am I merely dreaming thus?),

Entwined in silks, a female figure

Within the window's fogs would pass.

 

And slowly, walking past the drunkards,

Never with company, alone,

While breathing through perfumes and hazes,

Beside the window she sits down.

 

And breezes with the ancient legends

The richness of elastic silks,

As is her hat with mournful feathers,

Her narrow hand with many rings.

 

And chained-up by a stranger closeness,

I peer behind her veil of night,

And there I see a spellbound shoreline

And far, enchanted land I find.

 

With wordless secrets I’m entrusted

I’m given someone’s sun that shines,

And all the river-bends of spirit

Are pierced by streams of bitter wine.

 

And now the lowered ostrich feathers

Are wavering inside my mind,

While eyes, so bottomless and azure,

Are blooming on the far seaside.

 

Within my soul there lies a treasure;

The only key to it is mine!

You are correct, oh drunken monster!

I know now: truth resides in wine.

- 1906

 

* "In vino veritas": From the Latin, meaning "In wine there's truth".  The famous Latin/Roman variant of a saying previously popularized by the Greeks during early antiquity. It can be traced back to a 6th century BC poem by Alcaeus of Mytilene and is later mentioned by the historian Herodotus. An early use of the Latin variant is contained in Pliny the Elder's Naturalis historia. The phrase was repopulaized during the Reinassance by Erasmus in his Adagia.