“Dubbed through his fellow Futurists the “King of Time”, Velimir Khlebnikov (1885–1922) spent his whole short lifestyles trying to find a brand new poetic language to precise his convictions concerning the rhythm of historical past, the correspondence among human habit and the “language of the stars.” the outcome used to be an enormous physique of poetry and prose that has been known as airtight, incomprehensible, even deranged. Of all this tragic iteration of Russian poets (including Blok, Esenin, and Mayakovsky), Khlebnikov has been probably the main praised and the extra censured.”
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Additional info for Collected Works of Velimir Khlebnikov: Selected Poems (Volume 3)
I walked by the shores of a beautiful lake, in bast-bound shoes and a sky-blue shirt. And I was beautiful too. I had an old bronze bludgeon with a rugged round head. I once had a double-reed panpipe and a sawed-off horn. I had my picture taken with a skull in my hand. I saw sea serpents at Petrovsk. I went to the Urals with water from the Caspian, and poured it into the Kara Sea. I called the snows of high Kazbek eternal, but I prefer the soft brocades of autumn in the Urals. On the Greben Mountains I found the teeth of a manta ray and silver scallop shells large as the wheel of Pharaoh's chariot.
191+-1915: Ii m ] Genghis Khan me, you midnight plantation! Dark blue birch trees, sound in my ear! Zarathuse me, you twilight horizons! Mozarticulate me, dark-blue sky! Goya, gloaming, glooming! Rops, you midnight clouds! But the storm of smiles vanishes in cackling and the shock of claws and leaves me to outface the hangman, to brave the stillness of the night. I summoned up you barefaced insolents, from rivers made the drowned girls rise. " I shouted to the sails of night. Again earth's axis splashes round, brings on the overwhelming evening.
Let's muzzle the universe, keep it from biting us, who are young; let's move among lean white hunting dogs flicking our riding crops, smearing the buttercups with blood from our fragile hands ripped by the tusk of the universe, the slaver-mouth of the universe. And let's cast a dream of cannons from cast-off literary canons. We who are young and wise will abandon the old, who are not, and establish world government for ourselves, and for our generations. [1915-1916: OS 9-10] My elbow brushed a warm breast: Awake, daughter of diversions!
Collected Works of Velimir Khlebnikov: Selected Poems (Volume 3)