The blind world swings…

The Devil’s Swing

Beneath a shaggy fir tree,
Above a noisy stream
The devil’s swing is swinging,
Pushed by his hairy hand.

He swings the swing while laughing,
Swing high, swing low,
Swing high, swing low,
The board is bent and creaking,
The rope is taut and chafing
Against a heavy branch.

The swaying board is rushing
With long and drawn-out creaks;
With hand on hip, the devil
Is laughing with a wheeze.

I clutch, I swoon, I’m swinging.
Swing high, swing low,
Swing high, swing low,
I’m clinging and I’m dangling,
And from the devil trying
To turn my languid gaze.

Above the dusky fir tree
The screeching throng whirls round:
“You’re caught upon the swings, love,
The devil take you, swing!”

The devil will not slacken
The swift board’s pace, I know,
Until his hand unseats me
With a ferocious blow.

Until the jute, while twisting,
Is frayed through till it breaks,
Until my ground beneath me
Turns upward to my face.

I’ll fly above the fir tree
And fall flat on the ground.
So swing the swing, you devil,
Go higher, higher…oh!

Fyodor Sologub

Even though written by a total nihilist so true, so true…

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