Past One O'Clock
Past one o'clock. You must have gone to bed.
The Milky Way streams silver through the night.
I'm in no hurry; with lightning telegrams
I have no cause to wake or trouble you.
And, as they say, the incident is closed.
Love's boat has smashed against the daily grind.
Now you and I are quits. Why bother then
to balance mutual sorrows, pains, and hurts.
Behold what quiet settles on the world.
Night wraps the sky in tribute from the stars.
In hours like these, one rises to address
The ages, history, and all creation.
Commentary
This poem is for all those who have recently been through a break-up.
When my girlfriend split up with me, a dear friend of mine sent me this poem. She explained that it had been Mayakovsky’s last poem; he had it in his pocket when he committed suicide. But unlike Mayakovsky, she assured me, I would get over it.
Biographical point: Vladimir Vladimirovich Mayakovsky born July 7, 1893 in Bagdadi, Georgia; died April 14, 1930 in Moscow, Russia (U.S.S.R.)
What matters to me most: When the Russian Revolution broke out, Mayakovsky was wholeheartedly for the Bolsheviks. Later, he grew disillusioned as the Revolution’s ideals were smashed ‘against the daily grind’ and criticised the Party aggressively. He took his own life at the age of 36.
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From the Wondering Minstrels mailing list, 1999–2008.
Phoebe Zemler · 13 November 2004
This particular passage of Mayakovsky’s suicide note is quite watered down from the original. This summary doesn’t have nearly the the intensity as it deserves.
Here’s his suicide poem. The original:
1
She loves me-loves me not.
My hands I pick
and having broken my fingers
fling away.
So the first daisy-heads
one happens to flick
are plucked,
and guessing,
scattered into May.
Let a cut and shave
reveal my grey hairs.
Let the silver of the years
ring out endlessly !
Shameful common sense -
I hope, I swear -
Will never come
to me.
2
It’s already two.
No doubt, you’ve gone to sleep.
In the night
The Milky Way
with silver filigrees.
I don’t hurry,
and there is no point in me
waking and disturbing you
with express telegrams.
3
The sea goes to weep.
The sea goes to sleep.
As they say,
the incident has petered out.
The love boat of life
has crashed on philistine reefs
You and I
are quits.
No need to reiterate
mutual injuries,
troubles
and griefs.
4
D’you see,
In the world what a quiet sleeps.
Night tributes the sky
with silver constellations.
In such an hour as this,
one rises and speaks
to eras,
history,
and world creation.
5
I know the power of words, I know words’ tocsin. They’re not the kind applauded by the boxes.
From words like these coffins burst from the earth and on their own four oaken legs stride forth. It happens they reject you, unpublished, unprinted. But saddle-girths tightening words gallop ahead. See how the centuries ring and trains crawl
to lick poetry’s calloused hands.
I know the power of words. Seeming trifles that fall like petals beneath the heel-taps of dance.
But man with his soul, his lips, his bones.
1928-1930
sincerly,
Ariadne
Anthony Murphy · 19 July 2006
And all these years I thought I knew the truncated translation of Mayakovsky’s ‘Past One O’Clock’ was the real thing translated by George Reaveyin the 1960 Meridian Book.
I was about to go to university when I purchased the book - could hardly afford it but had to have it. In all these years I an now pushing 71 nothing I have read matches this poem on the theme of love lost.
I once travelled with a Russian Diplomat at the height of the ‘Cold War’. I spoke with him about Mayakovsky’s poetry. He said “Translate Mayakovsky? It’s not possible” He was a cultured man as you might expect. Perhaps he was wrong. I do not read Russian or speak it, but for the poetry of Mayakovsky I yearn to do so even now.
Pasternak gave Mayakovsky high Praise and said the people wept at his death. Is this so. May I ask if you are Russian? Is your translation the ‘real thing’. Please do not think me impertinent for asking. This is a poen I treasure. Was it for Lili Brik?
kindest regards,
Tony Murphy.
DUtvich · 20 July 2006
…looking at your version of “love’s boat smashed”. There is a better translation. I have carried it for 38 years. Should I send it?