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Master
Senior Member
since 1999-08-18
Posts 1867
Boston, MA

0 posted 2000-03-11 01:59 PM


I

The pen would tremble in my hand
The fervent ink would flow in prime,
To start the story with no end--
An ageless tale told in rhyme.
The ever-young and graceful Hamlet,
Preserved in ink, upon a tablet,
Shall never fade nor ever rust.
A poet’s breath shall sweep the dust
And make anew what was forgotten.
Which shall return like any season.
Restoring life in words of reason,
It will complete what was begotten
And preaching loudly from the page,
It will awake the silent age.

II

Thus we begin, let’s take a glimpse,
Somewhere in Denmark, long ago--
Young Hamlet lived inside his dreams,
And trusted visions that he saw.
The throne was his and so was glory
And this he knew. Without a worry,
He eagerly looked to that day
When he’d be king. The prince was gay
Just knowing that he had control.
He placed himself above his friends,
The world was lying in his hands--
In every game they played. His soul
Was branded thus by destined fate.
The role was his and Hamlet played!

III

He mimicked time upon his face,
He craved adventure, hungered trouble--
Just like the rest, despised disgrace
And fell in love, for it was common.
He loved to hunt, enjoyed the thrill,
Always the first to get the kill,
With passion, lacking guilt and shame,
He finished off the wounded game
And feasted on the bleeding beast.
Was always proud of his feat,
All dinner bragged about his deed,
About his strength, and was not pleased—
Never received full satisfaction--
Until he’d get a kind reaction.

IV

His love was rare and so unique
That many viewed it as deceiving.
Effected to affection’s peak,
He freely spoke about his feelings.
Ophelia, he loved you dearly!
At night he dreamt of you. Sincerely,
He wrote to you about his love, --
You never trusted him enough
And doubting his faultless will,
Mislead your heart. Your heart--
Not fooled, knew from the start
That he was pure. He loved you still!
Demanding strongly, Hamlet yearned
To have you love him in return.

V

Then, sorrow struck him with a blow--
So suddenly, old Hamlet died
Our Prince, -- he buried sadness slow
And by the tomb he moaned and cried.
Sad hours dragged. Clock’s heavy hands
Would close the casket, tie loose ends
And bury pain. Yet grief remained,
And moved by feelings that he gained.
Our hero lost all sleep. No longer
Were his dreams as bright and clear.
Yet, since that moment, not a tear
He shed, but grew much stronger.
His weary face showed no remorse,
The world was falling on its course.

VI

The sun was shinning and the weather
Was pleasant and the grass was growing.
And all was living—all that mattered!
And all was blossoming, not knowing
That such a tragedy took place.
The children’s eyes sincerely gazed
As flowers bloomed and all seemed just!
The world was moving as it must.
And Hamlet picked up by this spirit
Thought not about his father’s death
All was alive. And nature’s breath
Blew on his face and he would hear it.
And bringing Hamlet back to life
The nature with excitement thrived.

VII

Abruptly, calmness turned to rage--
And Hamlet walked around sunken,
The Queen, his mother, was engaged
To marry Claudius, his uncle.
Too sudden! -- Not a month yet passed
Since king deceased, and she would cast
Her sight upon another man. A curse
Indeed, for such a deed is worse
Than mortal sin and for our Prince
The past would slowly come to vanish.
He felt abandoned, sunk in anguish.
And cursed his fate. And ever since
His father’s death, could not be reached--
He lost his touch and lacked his speech.

VIII

While held imprisoned in his castle,
Watched closely by the hungry eyes--
He searched for truth, and in that hassle,
He found nothing but disguise.
Pure vengeance grew in Hamlet’s heart
He, with this notion could not part,
But stood against it. All was blurry!
Some say-- he left his nest too early,
And others-- that he had no nest.
To helplessly see dreams grow molded,
Or be delighted blindfolded? --
Who is to judge what is the best?
Thus Hamlet watched all he adored
Become offensive and abhorred.

IX

One night, his lengthy contemplation
Was shortened greatly by his servants.
The words they spoke aroused sensations
And gave his will a whole new purpose.
He followed them and he was stunned! --
Appeared a phantom and a bond
Was formed. The sun would rise,
And melt the vision in his eyes
And all was still before his sight.
And all was quiet, all was calm.
Just like the sky before the storm,
All seemed so trite, but in that night
Eternally, three fates have crossed--
The son, the father and the ghost.

X

Their will was simple: to avenge--
Bring Justice forth to do her part!
Our Hamlet, yearned to get revenge,
And yet remain true in his heart.
But, was he sure of his assumption?
He re-examined his presumption
And found no alibi, no cause.
Did he believe his father’s ghost?
Was it the Devil? Who could know?
These questions, yet to be contested,
Remained a burden and unanswered
Would stress our hero more and more.
A plot was plotted for pure eyes
To catch the killer by surprise.

XI

He asked himself in deep depression,
“To be or not?” and in his voice,
He sought the answer. In confession
He realized -- he had no choice.
“To be... but how?” he’d often ponder
But found no answer in his wonder
Other that “be.” In contemplation,
He’d seek a godly revelation,
But nothing came. Enslaved in grief,
He dreamt that all was quite well
And yet he couldn’t brake the spell
Which filled his thoughts. And brief
Were nights, long were the days,
Which he would spend in search of space.

XII

As long as conscience plays her role,
You are alive, my cherished reader, --
If nothing can disturb your soul,
Then you’ve deceased and neither
Love nor breath can bring you back.
You’re always judged by what you lack,
Not what you have. Don’t waste
A single breath in rapid haste,
But drink love’s potion-- magic brew,
And breathe to love and strive to live,
To sense the pain, to feel the grief--
This above all: to self be true!
Enough of morals! I’m excited--
A play is staged and we’re invited!

XIII

Hamlet, the ultimate observer--
Sees all as all observe the play.
The actor speaks with ardent fervor
The lines that he was told to say--
He states, “...hands apt, drugs fit
And time agreeing...” He does the deed.
Pours poison in King’s ears and then
Out of the second row, the man
Arises. “Let strucken deer go weep,”
States Hamlet and the lights go on.
The play is left half-way undone
For some-- “...and some must sleep.”
An echo duplicates-- “hands apt...”--
The mouse falls into the trap.

XIV

Prince Hamlet manifests in poems--
So cruel and very strongly versed--
Thus ends one play -- another opens,
Or better yet evolves from first.
Eyes focus, players lose their shield,
The player’s faces-- now revealed!
True drama starts! Becoming conscious,
The rivals meet and silence plunges!
And walking slowly on the stage
Our hero stares into the night--
His future stands before his sight
And preaches like a clever sage.
And only minutes separate
Two lives from finding their fate.

XV

As one sought heaven for forgiveness
While kneeling down in a prayer,
The other raised his sword in bleakness
But could not slay the praying slayer.
For he who meets his death confessing
Shall go to heaven with a blessing
And find God. Thus Hamlet left
Bearing revenge-- a massive heft,
Upon his shoulders. He was certain--
His heart was beating like a drum--
The destined day would surely come
To free our hero from this burden.
And thus he walked away appeased
And left his enemy in peace.

XVI

Seeking no vengeance from he holy,
So wise in thought, he walked away,
For every king must have his glory
And every dog will have its day.
In rage, he entered Gertrude’s room
His anger had no time to cool.
He harshly spoke and heard a cry--
A moan, a wail. And a spy
Behind a tapestry met death.
Was Hamlet acting out of fury?
From madness? -- was he truly
Mad? Or did he simply have
No reason? --What’s done is done!
The Queen felt pity for her son.

XVII

Oh, Gertrude! Overfilled with sadness,
You were the victim of this plot!
You prayed for peace and in this madness
Your eyes refused to look at blood.
And deeply struck by this commotion,
You buried deeply your emotion
And slept in slumber to that day,
When Hamlet entered in a fray  
And gave you sight. He stabbed
Your innocence, spoke daggers,
And he exposed and didn’t stagger
The anger in his bosom trapped.
And looking at your soul, inside
You could not find a place to hide.

XVIII

Something was rotting in the state.
And slowly crumbling, it wailed.
No longer could our hero wait
And thus to England Hamlet sailed.
With conscience, Hamlet could not sleep,
One single notion he would keep
That all was going for the worst
And death was lying on his course.
He chose to test his intuition
And proved it true. All came to focus!
King Claudius gave out the orders,
And signed the paper-- his commission,
Where he commanded to his men
To slay the Prince upon the land.

XIX

King’s wicked plan was now exposed
And Hamlet, overflowed with hatred,
Would roar in rage, and from exhaust,
He cursed the ship, the wind and nature,
In passionate distress, he shivered
And all seemed wicked, false and evil.
He was alone in his belief--
He felt forsaken, lost, deceived.
Just as the moment turned intense,
Our hero fled from the disaster.
His fortune fell on two imposters
Whom in the past, he called his friends.
And all alone he traveled back,--
Which takes us to the final act.

XX

Into a churchyard Hamlet wandered
And by one monument he stopped.
And Hamlet’s eyes perceived in wonder
And from the weariness they dropped.
There, in the grave, his past would fester,
“Here lies a joker and a jester...” --
Poor Yorick! You were once his teacher,
But now deceased, -- left not a feature.
Yet Hamlet still recalled with pleasance-
The smile that he loved so much
He saw the hands he used to touch
His memory preserved your essence
And Hamlet carried in his mind
The weight of what was left behind.

XXI

Inside his head, decades and ages
Decayed and faded in the night.
He saw the King, the Queen and Laetres,--
Stood short of breath. Before his sight
His love was buried. Pain struck deep!
His soul appalled began to weep.
He went to offer his condolence
But Laetres, blind to his solace,
Attacked him and refused to see
His innocence. Prince Hamlet then,
Would try to reason with this man,--
Laetres ignored him. Even he,
Stood by the crown hypnotized—
No longer seeing through his eyes.

XXII

Words often leave a deadly touch.
The noble Laetres felt it. Hence,
He challenged Hamlet to a match
And Hamlet, taught in youth to fence,
Agreed. And both were ready to defend
Their honor. With a rapid hand
The Prince struck first and soon
Again. Then Laetres. From the wound
Blood dripped. In haste, they traded
Swords. And then, under a magic spell,
Both froze at once, both fighters fell
And instantly two stars have faded.
And lying on the floor, in blood,
Laetres unmasked the wicked plot.

XXIII

Both saw the crown’s charming shine,
And watched the sun play on its tips.
Meanwhile, Gertrude drank the wine,
Which was prepared for Hamlet’s lips.—
Another death from poisoned drink!
Prince Hamlet rose and killed the king
And fell again, his sword would drop.
And thus in Denmark, chaos stopped.
And only Gods watched in dismay,
That day, as tons of blood was shed,
A country-- ruined, people-- dead,
They watched it all. Thus ends the play.
I pray this story strikes you deep
Some must live on, “...and some must sleep.”

XXIV

To sacrifice yourself for virtue,
For mere belief, which seems deceiving!
To be! To stand against your fortune!
How sad is life? -- how worthy living!
Dear Hamlet this we owe to you! --
You challenged life and this you knew,
You walked to certain death. I pray,
That I could take your path some day
And die for honor! Die with pride!
To see what dreams will come, if any,
And if one comes, to pray for many.
And seeing stars fall in the night,
To make a wish that they would rise
And shine again inside our eyes!

XXV

Time is a gathering of moments,
Sometimes we act, sometimes rehearse.
Thus ends one play-- another opens,
Or better yet, evolves from first,
Which never ends. In admiration,
We closely watch each situation
Develop into something bigger, --
So big, that many cannot figure
The moral it conveys so clearly.
So what’s the moral? -- How can I
Describe to you what’s in your eye?
And this I say to you sincerely:
Perhaps it’s better not to see,
And simply let the question be.


© Copyright 2000 Andrey Kneller - All Rights Reserved
Poertree
Senior Member
since 1999-11-05
Posts 1359
UK
1 posted 2000-03-11 05:49 PM


I just got back from Birnam Wood (seriously - no kidding) to be confronted by this awesome Shakespearean inspired sequence of sonnets.  I can't pretend to have read all of it yet but just the sheer work and effort that has gone into this is admirable.

I do have a horrible horrible fear though that posting an epic of 25 sonnets is just asking for a certain compulsive sonneteer to rise to the challenge and try to outdo!!

I shall read a few more tomorrow.

Magnificent effort.

Philip

jbouder
Member Elite
since 1999-09-18
Posts 2534
Whole Sort Of Genl Mish Mash
2 posted 2000-03-11 08:31 PM


M-

I'm copying this to study and I'll post my reply later.  So far it looks like quite an achievement.

Jim

P.S.  Philip ... do you really think I'm compulsive?  

Poertree
Senior Member
since 1999-11-05
Posts 1359
UK
3 posted 2000-03-12 02:59 AM


Jim

Do you really need to ask that question re. sonnets? .. the archive speaks for itself   and very impressive it is too  

P


jbouder
Member Elite
since 1999-09-18
Posts 2534
Whole Sort Of Genl Mish Mash
4 posted 2000-03-12 08:54 PM


M-

Okay.  I've printed this out and am bound and determined to make it through the entire work (I have read this through and work through VIII).  I am curious what motivated you to do this?  I'm sure, if nothing else, it was valuable practice and, by the end of this project, your writing of verse improved.

A few initial observations.  First, I was a little disappointed that you chose not to write this in iambic pentameter.  Initially you ended your phrases and sentences with the end-words in each line.  The eight syllables per line, I think, restricted this manner of writing in such a way as to cramp your telling of the story.  Adding two additional syllables per line (making them iambic pentameter) and enjambing more of your lines are two ways to help alleviate some of the areas where I thought the lines were choppy.

Through XIII your rhyme scheme was pretty consistent and you used near, slant and half rhymes at times (all acceptable).  Again, I was hoping, since Hamlet was one of Shakespeare's plays, that you might have chosen the rhyme scheme of the Shakespearean Sonnet (ABAB/CDCD/EFEF/GG).  Most often, you rhyme your lines ABAB/CCDD/EFFE/GG.  This seems to combine Shakespearean, couplet rhymes, and Italian/Petrarchan formats. It is interesting, however, and you are consistent throughout.

To the specifics:

I.

"Shall never fade nor ever rust"

In formal English "nor" is usually coupled with "neither" (neither/nor, either/or).  I think rewording this to either, "Shall neither fade nor ever rust" [I don't like "ever", btw]" or "Shall never fade and never rust."  Just suggestions.

"It will awake the silent age."

I thought that "sleeping" in lieu of "silence" would make more sense since you use "awake" earlier in the sentence.

II.

The first four lines are non-rhyming.  I thought, perhaps, that "a glimpse" and "ago" might be beginning rhymes but I couldn't figure out why "dreams" and "saw" were in there.

I know it is petty of me but "...The Prince was gay ..." made me snicker.  Damn the twentieth century's butchery of a good English word!  

"Was branded by destined fate."

"Destined" and "fate[d]" mean basically the same thing.  I thought that these two words together were tautological.

III.

I'm not sure what you meant by "mimicked time upon his face".  Perhaps you meant "mocked"?

"Was always proud of his feat," is missing a syllable (it only has 7).  I thought that "All" in "All dinner bragged about his deed" would have sounded better as "At".

IV.

"His love was rare and so unique ..."  I know "rare" and "unique" are not technically the same but I think "unique" here is a little hyperbolic so, again, I think there is a repetition of the same meaning here (tautology).

V.

I had no problems with V.  Well done.  By this time you are enjambing you lines regularly.

VI.  

In the first four lines you use the word "and" four times.  Even if you did not intend it to be so, it appeared that the "ands" were line fillers to get you those extra syllables you needed.  Most of what I have written has been in metered verse so I KNOW the temptation when you are struggling with the wording and you just can't get the meter to work right.  I would suggest taking a look at these four lines.

"All was alive.  And nature's breath ..."

I think "were" would be more appropriate than "was" here.

VII.

"And Hamlet walked around sunken ..."

I scanned this line, "and HAM- / -let WALKED / a-ROUND / SUNK-en.  Your last foot is trochaic.  Up to this point your meter has been relatively consistent.  I would suggest rewriting the line with nine syllables, considering "-en" in "sunken" a feminine ending.

"Indeed, for such a deed ..."

I didn't like "Indeed" and "deed" in the same line.  Just my opinion, however.

VIII.

"He searched for truth, and in that hassle"

The word "hassle" seems a bit forced and doesn't seem to fit perfectly into your line.  Fortunately, you have plenty of options open to you.  "Castle" can be fortress, fort, stronghold etc. if you have difficulty rhyming.

"He found nothing but disguise."

This lines is missing a syllable (I only counted 7).

Well, that is a far as I've gotten so far.  I will come back to this from time to time as I work my way through this.  Again, I am impressed that you undertook such a mammoth project and that, besides a few rough edges, you seem to have pulled it off rather well.

I suggest reading through this over and over again, asking yourself "Does this line sound as good as it could?"  Most of my sonnets go through many rewrites before I am satisfied with the finished product.  I really would like to see you try to write this in iambic pentameter but I fear that will involve a considerable amount of work on you part and understand (and can accept) the tetrameter.

Thanks for the read.  Hope to see more of your work in here soon and I will be back as soon as I can be.

Jim

Master
Senior Member
since 1999-08-18
Posts 1867
Boston, MA
5 posted 2000-03-12 10:25 PM


Thank you both for your comments.
Jim, thank you especially for a great analysis. I will use most of your suggestions. I can wait to read the rest. By the way, if you are trully interested you could read my commentary to this piece in the "Passion in Prose" forum. Thank you once again.

Not A Poet
Member Elite
since 1999-11-03
Posts 3885
Oklahoma, USA
6 posted 2000-03-13 02:55 PM


Master,

This truly is an impressive accomplishment. I haven't had time to really read it all yet but have quickly skimmed through. I've also briefly looked at Jim's comments. He is usually quite good at this and I think he is pretty well on this time too.

I will continue to study your epic and try to make further comments. Thanks. Again, an impressive read.


 Pete

What terms shall I find sufficiently simple in their sublimity --
sufficiently sublime in their simplicity --
for the mere enunciation of my theme?
Edgar Allan Poe



jbouder
Member Elite
since 1999-09-18
Posts 2534
Whole Sort Of Genl Mish Mash
7 posted 2000-03-14 09:31 PM


Okay, I said I would be back, didn't I?    Forgive my analyses for being brief.  I'm in a bit of a hurry tonight and only have time to focus on the weaknesses I found.  Don't get the impression that I am not enjoying this because I honestly am (if I wasn't I wouldn't be critiquing this).  Okay, here we go.

IX.

"And gave his will a whole new purpose"

The ending of this line ("whole new purpose") seemed a little forced to get your meter on track.  

"Appeared a phantom and a bond / was formed."  

This sentence seemed to end abruptly.  The appearance of the ghost is a dramatic event and I think more attention could be given to this line.

I think you overuse "And" in the following stanzas, btw.

I really liked the last line: "The son, the father and the ghost".  An obvious allusion to the Trinity.

X.

Most of this stanza was pretty tight.  You lost me on the rhyme scheme of Lines 7-12, however.

XI.

This stanza is pretty tight also.  Small typo in Line 11, "brake" should be "break".  You are also missing a syllable in Line 10.

XII.

Ahhh ... an interesting development!  I like your interlude.  So this who thing is a play and we are the audience!  Nicely done.  A tight stanza, btw.

XIII.

Missing feet in Lines 5 and 12, missing syllable in Line 14, and I think "strucken" should be "stricken" unless you know something I don't about that word.  

"Pours poison in King's ears and then ..."

This line reads a little awkwardly without "the" before "King's" but that would throw off your meter.  See what iambic tetrameter does to you?  

XIV.

"Or better yet evolves from first."

This line was a little confusing to me.  Also, Lines 6 and 14 are both missing a syllable.

XV.

In Line 3 I thought a word other than "bleakness" would be a better choice.  "Bleak" just isn't strong enough to describe the passion in the sword wielder.

Line 7 is missing a syllable.  I really enjoyed the rest of the stanza and I thought it was very well worded.

XVI.

I think "he holy" in he first line should be "the holy".  "And every dog will have its day" is definitely cliched.  Lines 8, 11 and 13 all have only 7 syllables.

That's all I have time for tonight.  I will try to finish the rest of them by Thursday.  I'm really enjoying the effort you put into this, btw.  Thanks.

Jim

Master
Senior Member
since 1999-08-18
Posts 1867
Boston, MA
8 posted 2000-03-14 11:07 PM


Thank you Jim, again these were very useful to me. I didn't reallize that I made two spelling mistakes, thank you for pointing those out.

To tell you the truth, the missing syllables do not bother me much. I always wrote based on the way it sounded out loud and many of those lines that you pointed out sound good to me. There are some that I'll try to rewrite. Perhaps that's just me, but regardless, thank you for your suggestions.

The phrase with "strucken" in Stanza VIII is a direct quote from Hamlet.
And so is "every dog will have its day..." in Stanza XVI

"Or better yet evolves from first..." you should get the meaning of this in the last stanza.

Again, thank you for all of the time you put into this, I truly appreciatte it. I can see that you know what you're talking about and it's an honor to learn from someone like you. Thank you!

bboog
Member
since 2000-02-29
Posts 303
Valencia, California
9 posted 2000-03-15 01:53 AM


Master~ I was going to print it out and read it over but my printer stopped on page 2 of 14 so I didn't get to re-read your entire work. You certainly have a lot of energy to take on such a task like this, so I wonder if one sonnet more wouldn't kill you. And that would be, to sum it all up in 14 lines, what Hamlet meant to you, personally. You kind of did it in XXV, but it seemed a little too general.
   I think it would make a good work. Congratulations on what you've written.
bboog

Master
Senior Member
since 1999-08-18
Posts 1867
Boston, MA
10 posted 2000-03-15 05:17 PM


To tell you the truth, it would be a greater task to summarize it in one stanza then write 25 stanzas about it. THere's so much that makes Hamlet an awesome play that to capture it in 14 lines is nearly impossible.
Boris Pasternak, a famous russian poet, however did it and I've translated his poem into english. If you're interested here it is:

The clamor ceased. I walked onto the stage.
While leaning on a jamb, through cheers,
I’m grasping in the echo’s distant range
What will occur during my years.
The twilight of the night has gathered
Like thousands of binoculars on me.
If so you’re willing, Father,
I beg you, take this cup from me.
I love your plan, so firm and stubborn
And I agree to play this role.
But as of now, there’s another drama.
This time, expel me, I implore.
But, the predestined plot proceeds.
I cannot alter the direction of my path.
I am alone, all sinks in phariseeism.
To live a life— is not an easy task.


[This message has been edited by Master (edited 03-15-2000).]

bboog
Member
since 2000-02-29
Posts 303
Valencia, California
11 posted 2000-03-15 09:36 PM


M~ It would be difficult, wouldn't it? thanks for the translated poem.
best regards,
bboog

Master
Senior Member
since 1999-08-18
Posts 1867
Boston, MA
12 posted 2000-03-16 10:00 AM


You're welcome, bboog! Thank you for responding!
Not A Poet
Member Elite
since 1999-11-03
Posts 3885
Oklahoma, USA
13 posted 2000-03-16 10:50 AM


It's difficult enough just trying to make one little statement within the constraints of a sonnet. I can't imagine how you could ever summarize your sonnet epic into such a small footprint. I think a summary of the play would probably be easier to write in 14 lines.  


 Pete

What terms shall I find sufficiently simple in their sublimity --
sufficiently sublime in their simplicity --
for the mere enunciation of my theme?
Edgar Allan Poe



Master
Senior Member
since 1999-08-18
Posts 1867
Boston, MA
14 posted 2000-03-17 06:34 PM


There so much to Hamlet that it would be very hard to capture it in a 14 line summary, that's why I felt that writing this "epic" wasn't that hard!
warmhrt
Senior Member
since 1999-12-18
Posts 1563

15 posted 2000-03-17 10:15 PM


Master,

"Hamlet" is the only Shakespearian play that I have both read and seen. What you have done here is an achievement of epic proportions, and serves your CA moniker very well.

I have written less than a handful of sonnets, but not a one of them comes close to any of these in spirit, in style...I have never been able to capture that magic that makes a sonnet, and here you have done it 25 times with what appears to be a natural ease.

I applaud you, Master, and hope to see more of your work.

Kristine

 Let compassion breathe in and out of you filling you with poems. ~ Jane Cooper

warmhrt
Senior Member
since 1999-12-18
Posts 1563

16 posted 2000-03-17 10:17 PM


Sorry  

[This message has been edited by warmhrt (edited 03-18-2000).]

Master
Senior Member
since 1999-08-18
Posts 1867
Boston, MA
17 posted 2000-03-18 12:06 PM


Thank you, Kristine! Technically I don't even know if these could be considered "sonnets." The style is a bit different than the Shakespearian Sonnets that most people are used to. I got this style from reading a famous Russian poet, Aleksander Pushkin, who used this style to write "Eugene Onegin." I decided to give it a try and just went with it and it wasn't that hard. As soon as you get the feeling for the flow of the poem, you just go with the current.
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