Devils poem – Alexander Pushkin

A poem by Alexander Pushkin – Pouchkine, Pooshkin (1799-1837), in English translation

Storm-clouds hurtle, storm-clouds hover;

Flying snow is set alight

By the moon whose form they cover;

Blurred the heavens, blurred the night.

On and on our coach advances,

Little bell goes din-din-din…

Round are vast, unknown expanses;

Terror, terror is within.

— Faster, coachman! “Can’t, sir, sorry:

Horses, sir, are nearly dead.

I am blinded, all is blurry,

All snowed up; can’t see ahead.

Sir, I tell you on the level:

We have strayed, we’ve lost the trail.

What can WE do, when a devil

Drives us, whirls us round the vale?

“There, look, there he’s playing, jolly!

Huffing, puffing in my course;

There, you see, into the gully

Pushing the hysteric horse;

Now in front of me his figure

Looms up as a queer mile-mark —

Coming closer, growing bigger,

Sparking, melting in the dark.”

Storm-clouds hurtle, storm-clouds hover;

Flying snow is set alight

By the moon whose form they cover;

Blurred the heavens, blurred the night.

We can’t whirl so any longer!

Suddenly, the bell has ceased,

Horses halted… — Hey, what’s wrong there?

“Who can tell! — a stump? a beast?..”

Blizzard’s raging, blizzard’s crying,

Horses panting, seized by fear;

Far away his shape is flying;

Still in haze the eyeballs glare;

Horses pull us back in motion,

Little bell goes din-din-din…

I behold a strange commotion:

Evil spirits gather in —

Sundry, ugly devils, whirling

In the moonlight’s milky haze:

Swaying, flittering and swirling

Like the leaves in autumn days…

What a crowd! Where are they carried?

What’s the plaintive song I hear?

Is a goblin being buried,

Or a sorceress married there?

Storm-clouds hurtle, storm-clouds hover;

Flying snow is set alight

By the moon whose form they cover;

Blurred the heavens, blurred the night.

Swarms of devils come to rally,

Hurtle in the boundless height;

Howling fills the whitening valley,

Plaintive screeching rends my heart…

translated by: Genia Gurarie

email: egurarie@princeton.edu

Copyright ©: 
Genia Gurarie

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Poems in English 

• Sonnet 20: A woman’s face with Nature’s own hand painted by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 1: From fairest creatures we desire increase by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 19: Devouring Time blunt thou the lion’s paws by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 18: Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 17: Who will believe my verse in time to come by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 16: But wherefore do not you a mightier way by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 15: When I consider every thing that grows by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 154: The little Love-god lying once asleep by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 153: Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 152: In loving thee thou know’st I am forsworn by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 151: Love is too young to know what conscience is by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 150: O from what power hast thou this powerful might by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 14: Not from the stars do I my judgement pluck by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 54: O, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 53: What is your substance, whereof are you made by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 52: So am I as the rich whose blessèd key by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 51: Thus can my love excuse the slow offence by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 50: How heavy do I journey on the way by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 4: Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 49: Against that time, if ever that time come by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare

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