Hamlet

The murmurs ebb; onto the stage I enter.
I am trying, standing in the door,
To discover in the distant echoes
What the coming years may hold in store.

The nocturnal darkness with a thousand
Binoculars is focused onto me.
Take away this cup, O Abba Father,
Everything is possible to Thee.

I am fond of this Thy stubborn project,
And to play my part I am content.
But another drama is in progress,
And, this once, O let me be exempt.

But the plan of action is determined,
And the end irrevocably sealed.
I am alone; all round me drowns in falsehood:
Life is not a walk across a field.

by Boris Pasternak

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Comments (1)

The title is really attractive when i read Hamlet i said this is must be such apoem and it is such a poem I like it and we are all living in the theatre of life that we all acting our parts and still there are people who murmur behind our back this is life. love the poem