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A poem about Raskolnikov from the book Crime and Punishment. |
Who am I? I know that Raskolnikov be my name, But I don't know? Am I even in reality as I speak, Or is this all in my mind? This is madness! Yes, this is all madness! It must all be in my mind Because they will never find the name They will never know That it was I The name they will never speak Porfory will not break my mind He will never make me speak He will never know He will place blame on my illness, for my madness! Never will he speak the murderer's name Never will he know that it was I Wait is there light, this love, that Sonya has shown I Even though she knows the murderer's name And of Lazarus I made her speak, I have brought her into my madness! And even then Sonya pities me, although she does know How wrong I am in the mind Although not as wrong as Svidrigalov is in the mind! Speaking as if we are two of the same, what madness! He is a louse! That much I know Oh how does he speak About ghostly visits that wouldn't frighten I Marfa, that be the ghost's name Razumihin, a most trusted friend, for I To decidedly hand over Dunya and mother to him, to keep them from my madness As I know the love for Dunya he does not speak Although one day he will let it flow from his mind As the bride next to him will have his name And they will have happiness, a happiness I wish I could know Madness may be my mind As all know and speak The murderer's name, Raskolnikov, whom is I |