The heavens darken with a thousand crows.
Flags ripple in the wind’s lamenting sighs.
Smoke hovers ghostlike over fallen foes
Blotched over with aroused and feasting flies.
The ugly spectacle smirks back at me:
Another splendidly conducted fight.
Still, one remaining enemy runs free,
An arrogant contester of my might:
Though millions may kneel to me, I lack
True martial honor if I don’t subdue
This one my polished saber shimmers back.
It’s on—I shudder, and he shudders too.
Gleb Zavlanov is a poet based in New York City.
Gleb, I went to high school with you! Many years later, I found a poem I think you wrote during a school fair. You had a booth where you would write poems on the spot. I thought it was very lovely! You always had a talent for this. Hope you're doing well! I pasted what you wrote below:
How oftentimes when languor strains the brain
Or lovers' sighs steam with destructive scorn
How oftentimes when death with his foul pain
Ushers away life's pulse and bids us mourn
How often then we let the lyres and lutes
Arouse warm tears and throb away grief's weight
What joy to let death's note when life's own mutes
Bring through sweet notes the…
Here, in a few sublimely well-crafted lines, we are given a vivid vision of old-fashioned warfare - its carnage, its ugliness, and two heroic shuddering participants who face-off alone against each other amid the feasting flies and corpses. This is a long way from the sanitized, surgical missile strikes of today, and unshuddering leaders and generals who lead from the safety of their nuclear shelters. Well done, Gleb, for saying so much about 'martial honor' by leaving so much unsaid. Sublime and unforgettable.
I'm so glad to see your work reappear here, Gleb. I wondered what had happened in your absence, but I was happily delighted with another work. This has all the hallmarks of what makes your poetry so compelling: vivid description, accessibility with just enough elusiveness to add mystery, and a contemporary tone that doesn't sound like it strains itself to sound contemporary. I found the use of "it's on" here both amusing and well used. A wonderful work!
This poem is excellent! Gleb Zavlanov’s use of imagery here is very powerful, allowing the reader to clearly envision everything in the mind’s eye. I especially love how he begins the poem, already setting the stage for the grim scene that unfolds:
The heavens darken with a thousand crows.
Flags ripple in the wind’s lamenting sighs.
I think these lines are spectacular!
- Shannon