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The Young Guard We We Grow Out of Iron The Young Guard Aleksandr Bezymensky (1918) --- Comrades in the struggle! Go forward, meet the dawn, With bayonets and grapeshot We'll lay the road ahead. Go forward bravely, keep your step firm, Loft the ensign of youth on high! We are the Young Guard Of the peasants and working class. We have ourselves experienced Indentured servitude. Our youth passed by us unawares, Ensnared in slavery's net. We carried chains around our hearts- The legacy of darkness. We are the Young Guard Of the peasant and working class. Standing by our forges, And bathing in our sweat, We created with our work Wealth for other men. But that labor in the end
We Mikhail Gerasimov (1919) --- We shall take all, we shall know all, We shall peirce the depths to the bottom. And drunk is the vernal soul Like may, golden with blossoms. To proud daring there is no limit, We are Wagner, Leonardo, Titan. On the new museum we shall build A cupola like that of Montblanc. In the crystal marbles of Angelo, In all the wonder of Parnassus, Is there not the song of creative genius That like an electric current throbs in us? Orchids were cultivated, Cradles of roses were swung: Were we not in Judea When love was taught by Christ? We laid the stone of the Parthenon, And those of the Giant pyramids; Of all the Sphinxes, temples, Pantheons We have cut the clanging granite. Was it not for us that on Mount Sinai, In the burning bush, The Red Banner glowed, like the sun, Amid storm and fire. We shall take all, we shall know all, We shall pierce the turquoise of the skies; It is so sweet to drink on a blossoming day From the life-giving showers. We Grow Out of Iron Aleksei Gastev (1918) --- Look! I stand among workbenches, hammers, furnaces, forges, and among a hundred comrades, Overhead hammered iron space. On either side - beams and girders. They rise to a height of seventy feet. They arch right and left. Joined by cross-beams in the cupolas, giant shoulders they support the whole iron structure. They thrust upward, they are bold, they are strong. They demand yet greater strength. Fresh iron blood pours into my veins. I have grown taller. I too am growing shoulders of steel and arms immeasurably strong. I am one with the buildings iron. I have risen. My shoulders are forcing the rafters, the upper beams, the roof. My feet remain on the ground, but my head is above the building. I choke with the inhuman effort, but already I am shouting: "May I have the floor, comrades, may I have the floor?" An iron echo drowns my words, the whole structure shakes with impatience. And I have risen yet higher, I am on a level with the chimneys. I shall not tell a story or make a speech, I will only shout my iron word: "Victory shall be ours!" |
