Vladimir Mayakovsky Quotes

• Art must not be concentrated in dead shrines called museums. lt must be spread everywhere – on the streets, in the trams, factories, workshops, and in the workers' homes.

  Vladimir Mayakovski

  Art, Home, Museums

  "Shrine or Factory?" by Vladimir Mayakovsky, 1918.

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• Our planet
  is poorly equipped
  for delight.
  One must snatch
  gladness
  from the days that are.
  In this life
  it's not difficult to die.
  To make life
  is more difficult by far.

  Vladimir Mayakovski

  Delight, Life Is, This Life

  Vladimir Mayakovsky (1965). “Mayakovsky”

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• In the church of my heart the choir is on fire

  Vladimir Mayakovski

  Heart, Fire, Church

  Vladimir Mayakovsky (1965). “Mayakovsky”

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• If you wish, I shall grow irreproachably tender: not a man, but a cloud in trousers!

  Vladimir Mayakovski

  Men, Clouds, Wish

  "The Cloud in Trousers" (1915) (translation by George Reavey)

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• The love boat has crashed against the everyday.

  Vladimir Mayakovski

  Love, Everyday, Boat

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• Listen! If stars are lit It means there is someone who needs it, It means someone wants them to be, That someone deems those specks of spit Magnificent!

  Vladimir Mayakovski

  Stars, Mean, Needs

  Vladimir Vladimirovich Mayakovsky, “Listen!”

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• On the pavement
  of my trampled soul
  the steps of madmen
  weave the prints of rude crude words.

  Vladimir Mayakovski

  Rude, Soul, Pavement

  Vladimir Mayakovsky (1975). “Klop, Stikhi, Poėmy”, p.53, Indiana University Press

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• But I,
  from poetry's skies,
  plunge into communism,
  because
  without it
  I feel no love.

  Vladimir Mayakovski

  Sky, Communism, Plunge

  Vladimir Mayakovsky (1975). “Klop, Stikhi, Poėmy”, p.36, Indiana University Press

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• I want to be understood by my country, but if I fail to be understood - what then?, I shall pass through my native land to one side, like a shower of slanting rain.

  Vladimir Mayakovski

  Country, Rain, Land

  Vladimir Mayakovsky (1975). “Klop, Stikhi, Poėmy”, p.311, Indiana University Press

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• Gentle souls! You play your love on the violin. The crude ones play it on the drums violently. But can you turn yourselves inside out, like me And become just two lips entirely?

  Vladimir Mayakovski

  Play, Two, Soul

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• I understand the power and the alarm of words - Not those that they applaud from theatre-boxes, but those which make coffins break from bearers and on their four oak legs walk right away.

  Vladimir Mayakovski

  Theatre, Alarms, Coffins

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• If you like I'll be furious flesh elemental, or- changing to tones that the sunset arouses- if you like- I'll be extraordinary gentle, not a man but - a cloud in trousers.

  Vladimir Mayakovski

  Sunset, Men, Clouds

  Vladimir Vladimirovich Mayakovsky, “A Cloud In Trousers - Epilogue”

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• To us love says humming that the heart's stalled motor has begun working again.

  Vladimir Mayakovski

  Heart, Humming, Motor

  1928 'Letter fromParis to Comrade Kostorov on the Nature of Love' (translated by Samuel Charteris).

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• Pasada la una. Debes haberte ido a la cama. La Vía Láctea fluye plateada a través de la noche. No tengo prisa; con telegramas relámpago no tengo motivos para despertarte o molestarte. Y, como dicen, el incidente está cerrado. El barco del amor se ha estrellado contra la rutina diaria. Ahora tú y yo estamos en paz. Para qué molestarse entonces En equilibrar penas, dolores y heridas mutuas. Contempla qué tranquilidad se instala en el mundo. La noche envuelve el cielo en tributo de las estrellas. En horas como éstas, uno se levanta para dirigirse a las edades, a la historia y a toda la creación.

  Vladimir Mayakovski

  Hurt, Stars, Pain

  Vladimir Mayakovsky (1975). “Klop, Stikhi, Poėmy”, p.237, Indiana University Press

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• In our language rhyme is a barrel. A barrel of dynamite. The line is a fuse. The line smoulders to the end and explodes; and the town is blown sky-high in a stanza.

  Vladimir Mayakovski

  Sky, Lines, Towns

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• Love's ship has foundered on the rocks of life. We're quits: stupid to draw up a list of mutual sorrows, hurts and pains.

  Vladimir Mayakovski

  Hurt, Pain, Stupid

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• Too slow, the wagons of years,
  The oxen of days--too glum.
  Our god is the god of speed,
  Our heart--our battle-drum.

  Vladimir Mayakovski

  Heart, Oxen, Years

  Vladimir Mayakovsky (1972). “Poems”

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• Antes creía que los libros se hacían así: llegaba un poeta, abría ligeramente los labios, y el tonto inspirado prorrumpía en una canción... ¡por favor! Pero parece que, antes de poder lanzar una canción, los poetas deben caminar durante días con pies callosos, y el perezoso pez de la imaginación flota suavemente en el fango del corazón. Y mientras, con rimas gorjeantes, hierven un caldo de amores y ruiseñores, la calle sin lengua simplemente se retuerce por falta de algo que gritar o decir

  Vladimir Mayakovski

  Song, Book, Heart

  Vladimir Vladimirovich Mayakovsky, “A Cloud In Trousers - Part II”

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• There’s no grandfatherly fondness in me, There are no gray hairs in my soul! Shaking the world with my voice and grinning, I pass you by, - handsome, Twentytwoyearold.

  Vladimir Mayakovski

  Hair, Voice, Soul

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• They stood brow to brow, brown to white, black to black, he supporting her elbows, she playing her limp light fingers over his collarbone, and how he "ladored,"he said, the dark aroma of her hair blending with crushed lily stalks, Turkish cigarettes and the lassitude that comes from "lass." "No, no, don't," she said, I must wash, quick-quick, Ada must wash; but for yet another immortal moment they stood embraced in the hushed avenue, enjoying as they had never enjoyed before, the "happy-forever" feeling at the end of never-ending fairy tales.

  Vladimir Mayakovski

  Dark, Light, Hair

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• Were I
  as quiet as thunder,
  how I'd wail and whine!
  One groan of mine
  would start the world's crumbling cloister shivering.
  And if
  I'd end up by roaring
  with all of its power of lungs and more -
  the comets, distressed, would wring their hands
  and from the sky's roof
  leap in a fever.

  Vladimir Mayakovski

  Hands, Sky, Roaring

  Vladimir Mayakovsky (1985). “Селестед Воркс ин Тхрее Волумес: Селестед версе”

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• A line is a fuse that's lit. The line smolders, the rhyme explodes— and by a stanza a city is blown to bits.

  Vladimir Mayakovski

  Cities, Lines, Rhyme

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• Comrade life,
  let us
  march faster,
  March
  faster through what's left
  of the five-year plan.

  Vladimir Mayakovski

  Years, March, Faster

  Vladimir Mayakovsky (1975). “Klop, Stikhi, Poėmy”, p.233, Indiana University Press

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• On I’ll pass, dragging my huge love behind me. On what feverish night, deliria-ridden, by what Goliaths was I begot – I, so big and by no one needed?

  Vladimir Mayakovski

  Night, Delirium, Bigs

  Vladimir Mayakovsky (1985). “Селестед Воркс ин Тхрее Волумес: Селестед версе”

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• If an American is motoring on his own, he (the paragon of morality and chastity) will slow down and stop beside every solitary pretty female pedestrian, bare his teeth in a big smile, and tempt her into his car with a wild roll of the eyes. A lady who fails to appreciate his passion will qualify as an idiot who doesn't realise how lucky she is to have the opportunity of getting to know the owner of this 100-horse-power motor car.

  Vladimir Mayakovski

  Horse, Passion, Eye

  Vladimir Mayakovsky (2005). “My Discovery of America”

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