On the Russians 9/13

The art of poetry, unfortunately, is one of the only art forms that struggles to appeal to a global audience, considering it is the art of language and language can only be understood by...well, those who speak it. Much is lost in translation (probably) but even still, the translation is probably by a poet and therefore remains poetic. The poems that employ alliteration throughout, and were not translated, remain constant in their sound; this is useless to me, as I can make up my own words and arrange them in a way which is pleasant to the ear, and would be just as artistic as this poem that i can't understand. It seems there is a bit of a focus on sound in theses poems, sound effects even: Kruchenykh's poem "3" uses a sound effect, "a quarrel-shhh," as does his poem that begins "Achoo." His poems seem nonsensical, and that's why i think they keep their poetic effect even after translation. Almost like contemporary lyrics, he uses strings of images and little events in his life to create a mood instead of a definite moral or meaning. I actually enjoy this surreal look at life quite a bit, especially his attention on small details, for example, "breads out on the table/cabbage soup" what he may be trying to say is that life isn't always perfectly organized or makes immediate sense; we have to appreciate the details in all their messiness and dissarray.