Goblins Of The Steppes poem – Alexander Pushkin

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

Stormy clouds delirious straying,

Showers of whirling snowflakes white,

And the pallid moonbeams waning–

Sad the heavens, sad the night!

Further speeds the sledge, and further,

Loud the sleighbell’s melody,

Grewsome, frightful ’tis becoming,

‘Mid these snow fields now to be!

Hasten! “That is useless, Master,

Heavier for my team their load,

And my eyes with snow o’er plastered

Can no longer see the road!

Lost all trace of our direction,

Sir, what now? The goblins draw

Us already round in circles,

Pull the sledge with evil claw!

See! One hops with frantic gesture,

In my face to grin and hiss,

See! It goads the frenzied horses

Onward to the black abyss!

In the darkness, like a paling

One stands forth,–and now I see

Him like walking-fire sparkling–

Then the blackness,–woe is me!”

Stormy clouds delirious straying,

Showers of snowflakes whirling white,

And the pallid moonbeams waning–

Sad the heavens, sad the night!

Sudden halt the weary horses,

Silent too the sleighbells whirr–

Look! What crouches on the ground there?

“Wolf,–or shrub,–I know not, Sir.”

How the wind’s brood rage and whimper!

Scenting, blow the triple team;

See! One hops here! Forward Driver!

How his eyes with evil gleam!

Scarce controllable the horses,

How the harness bells resound!

Look! With what a sneering grimace

Now the spirit band surround!

In an endless long procession,

Formless, countless of their kind

Circle us in flying coveys

Like the leaves in Autumn wind.

Now in ghastly silence deathly,

Now with shrilling elfin cry–

Is it some mad dance of bridal,

Or a death march passing by?

Stormy clouds delirious straying

Showers of snowflakes whirling white,

And the pallid moonbeams waning–

Sad the heavens, sad the night!

Cloudward course the evil spirits

In unceasing phantom bands,

And their moaning and bewailing

Grip my heart with icy hands!

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Poems in English 

• Sonnet 76: Why is my verse so barren of new pride? by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 75: So are you to my thoughts as food to life by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet CVIII by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet CVII: Not Mine Own Fears, Nor the Prophetic Soul by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet CVII by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet CVI by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet CV by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet CLIV by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet CLIII by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet CLII by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet CLI by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet CL by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet CIX by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet CIV by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet CIII by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet CII by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet CI by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet C by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 9: Is it for fear to wet a widow’s eye by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 98: From you have I been absent in the spring by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare

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