Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

CreationEarth Nature Photos

Our March

 Beat the squares with the tramp of rebels!
Higher, rangers of haughty heads!
We'll wash the world with a second deluge, 
Now’s the hour whose coming it dreads.
Too slow, the wagon of years, The oxen of days — too glum.
Our god is the god of speed, Our heart — our battle drum.
Is there a gold diviner than ours/ What wasp of a bullet us can sting? Songs are our weapons, our power of powers, Our gold — our voices — just hear us sing! Meadow, lie green on the earth! With silk our days for us line! Rainbow, give color and girth To the fleet-foot steeds of time.
The heavens grudge us their starry glamour.
Bah! Without it our songs can thrive.
Hey there, Ursus Major, clamour For us to be taken to heaven alive! Sing, of delight drink deep, Drain spring by cups, not by thimbles.
Heart step up your beat! Our breasts be the brass of cymbals.

by Vladimir Mayakovsky
Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem - Our MarchEmail Poem |
Comment below this ad.

Top Vladimir Mayakovsky Poems

Analysis and Comments on Our March

Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem Our March here.