Here you will find the Poem That evening the forest of organ pipes did not play of poet Osip Emilevich Mandelstam
That evening the forest of organ pipes did not play. A native cradle sang Schubert for us, The mill was grinding, the music's blue-eyed drunkenness Laughed in the songs of the hurricane. The brown-green world of the old song, But only eternally young where the Erl-king Shakes the rumbling crowns of nightingaled Linden trees in savage rage. The awesome force of night's return, That wild song, like black wine: It is a double, a hollow ghost Peering senselessly through the cold window!
