Modern Poet

Shaking the branches
Of the Tree
For fresh blossoms of language,
Tiredly
Shaking, and ringing the changes
On a one-octave lute,
Begging a new strangeness
Hard urging the brute
Life; praying for
A break:
Eve and a strong Adam taking her,
Marx the State;
A new Genesis in a Russian
Sentiment - 
The Tree breaks, confusion,
Maggots, not blossoms, on the Continent.