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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=341022" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Stranger</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The restaurants on hot spring evenings<br>Lie under a dense and savage air.<br>Foul drafts and hoots from dunken revelers<br>Contaminate the thoroughfare. <br>Above the dusty lanes of suburbia<br>Above the tedium of bungalows<br>A pretzel sign begilds a bakery<br>And children screech fortissimo. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And every evening beyond the barriers<br>Gentlemen of practiced wit and charm<br>Go strolling beside the drainage ditches -- <br>A tilted derby and a lady at the arm. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The squeak of oarlocks comes over the lake water<br>A woman's shriek assaults the ear<br>While above, in the sky, inured to everything,<br>The moon looks on with a mindless leer. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And every evening my one companion<br>Sits here, reflected in my glass.<br>Like me, he has drunk of bitter mysteries.<br>Like me, he is broken, dulled, downcast.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>The sleepy lackeys stand beside tables<br>Waiting for the night to pass<br>And tipplers with the eyes of rabbits<br>Cry out: &quot;In vino veritas!&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And every evening (or am I imagining?)<br>Exactly at the appointed time<br>A girl's slim figure, silk raimented,<br>Glides past the window's mist and grime. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And slowly passing throught the revelers,<br>Unaccompanied, always alone,<br>Exuding mists and secret fragrances,<br>She sits at the table that is her own.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Something ancient, something legendary<br>Surrounds her presence in the room,<br>Her narrow hand, her silk, her bracelets,<br>Her hat, the rings, the ostrich plume.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Entranced by her presence, near and enigmatic,<br>I gaze through the dark of her lowered veil<br>And I behold an enchanted shoreline<br>And enchanted distances, far and pale.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I am made a guardian of the higher mysteries,<br>Someone's sun is entrusted to my control.<br>Tart wine has pierced the last convolution<br>of my labyrinthine soul.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And now the drooping plumes of ostriches<br>Asway in my brain droop slowly lower<br>And two eyes, limpid, blue, and fathomless<br>Are blooming on a distant shore.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Inside my soul a treasure is buried.<br>The key is mine and only mine.<br>How right you are, you drunken monster!<br>I know: the truth is in the wine.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Aleksandr+Aleksandrovich+Blok">Aleksandr Aleksandrovich Blok</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=341022" data-title="The Stranger de Aleksandr Aleksandrovich Blok" data-description="The restaurants on hot spring evenings
Lie under a dense and savage air.
Foul drafts and hoots from dunken revelers
Contaminate the thoroughfare. 
Above the dusty lanes of suburbia
Above the tedium of bungalows
A pretzel sign begilds a bakery
And ..."></div>
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