A poem by Alexander Pushkin – Pouchkine, Pooshkin (1799-1837), in English translation
_Stanzas from “Onegin”_
Our Northern Winter’s fickle Summer,
Than Southern Winter scarce more bland–
Is undeniably withdrawing
On fleeting footsteps from the land.
Soon will the Autumn dim the heavens,
The light of sunbeams rarer grown–
Already every day is shorter,
While with a smitten hollow tone
The forest drops its shadow leafage;
Upon the fields the mists lie white,
In lusty caravans the wild geese
Now to the milder South take flight;
Seasons of tedium draw near,
Before the door November drear!
From shivering mist ascends the morning,
The bustle, of the fields declines,
The wolf walks now upon the highway,
In wolfish hunger howls and whines;
The traveller’s pony scents him, snorting–
The heedful wanderer breathless takes
His way in haste beyond the mountains!
And though no longer when day breaks
Forth from their stalls the herd begins
To drive the kine,–his noon-day horn recalls.
The peasant maiden sings and spins,
Before her crackling, flaming bright
The pine chips,–friend of Winter night.
And see! The hoar frost colder sparkles
And spreads its silver o’er the fields,
Alas! the golden days are vanished!
Reluctant Nature mournful yields.
The stream with ice all frozen over
Gleams as some fashionable parquet,
And thronging hordes of boyish skaters
Sweep forward on its crystal way.
On her red claws despondent swimming,
The plump goose parts the water cold,
Then on the ice with caution stalking
She slips and tumbles,–ah behold!
Now the first snowflake idling down
Stars the depressing landscape brown.
At such a season in the country,
What can a man’s amusements be?
Walk? And but more of empty highway
And of deserted village see?
Or let him through the far Steppes gallop,
His horse can scarcely stand at all–
His stamping hoofs in vain seek foothold,
The rider dreading lest he fall!
So then remain within thy paling,
Read thou in Pradt or Walter Scott,
Compare thy varying editions,
Drink, and thy scoffing mood spare not!
As the long evenings drag away
So doth the Winter too delay.
FROM “ONEGIN”
Sometimes he read aloud with Olga
A latter day romance discreet,
Whose author truly painted nature,
With cunning plot, insight complete;
Oft he passed over a few pages,
Too bald or tasteless in their art–
And coloring, began on further,
Not to disturb the maiden heart.
Again, they sat for hours together,
With but a chess board to divide;
She with her arms propped on the table,
Deep pondering, puzzled to decide–
Till Lenski from his inward storm
Captured her castle with his pawn!
FROM “ONEGIN”
Love condescends to every altar,
Ah when in hearts of youth it springs,
Its coming brings such glad refreshment
As May rain o’er the pasture flings!
Lifted from passion’s melancholy
The life breaks forth in fairer flower,
The soul receives a new enrichment–
Fruition sweet and full of power.
But when on later altars arid
It downward sweeps, about us flows–
Love leaves behind such deathly traces
As Autumn tempests where it blows
To strip the woods with ruthless hand,
And turn to soggy waste the land!
FROM “ONEGIN”
How sad to me is thine appearing,
O Springtime, hour of love’s unrest!
Within the soul what nameless languors!
What passions hid within the breast!
With what a heavy, heavy spirit
From the earth’s rustic lap I feel
Again the joy of Springtide odors–
That once could make my spirit reel!
No more for me such pleasures thrilling,
All that rejoices, that has life,
All that exults,–brings but despondence
To one past passion as past strife,
All is but prose to such as he,
Wearied unto satiety.
Perchance we fain would pass unnoticed
That which in Autumn drooped and pined,
Now radiant in verdure springing,
Since it must of our loss remind;
As with a tortured soul we realize
In Nature’s glad awakening,
That we shall never find renewal,
Who evermore are withering.
Perchance there haunts us in remembrance,
Our own most dear and lyric dream,
Another long forgotten Springtime–
And trembling neath this pang supreme,
The heart faints for a distant country
And for a night beside the sea!
A few random poems:
- Аля Кудряшева – В этом городе птичий полет шелестит быстролистыми кленами
- Владимир Высоцкий – Песенка про мангустов
- Lines Rhymed In A Letter From Oxford poem – John Keats poems
- The Kind Moon by Sara Teasdale
- Jacke-On-Both-Sides by William Strode
- In Memory Of Eva Gore-Booth And Con Markiewicz by William Butler Yeats
- This Compost. by Walt Whitman
- Letter In November by Sylvia Plath
- Степан Щипачев – Ровеснику
- Damon The Mower poem – Andrew Marvell poems
- Thrones In Heaven by Victoria Rose
- The Morning Breeze by Mousumi Guha Roy
- Альфред де Мюссе – Песнь барберины
- Gorgeous Surfaces by Thomas Lux
- Alexander E. Musset
External links
Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus
Talking Writing Monster’s Page –
Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh
Poems in English
- This Will Not Win Him by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- This we Have Now by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- This is Love by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- This Aloneness by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- There is a Way by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- There is a life-force within your soul by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- There is a Community of Spirit by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- There is a Candle in your Heart by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- There is a Candle in your Heart by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- There Are A Hundred Kinds Of Prayer (Quatrain in Farsi with English Translation) by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- The Freshness by Rumi
- The Breeze at Dawn by Jelaluddin Rumi
- The time has come for us to become madmen in your chain by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- The Taste of Morning by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- The springtime of Lovers has come by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- The Self We Share by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- The Seed Market by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- The ravings which my enemy uttered I heard within my heart by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- The beauty of the heart by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- A Stone I died by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
More external links (open in a new tab):
Doska or the Board – write anything
Search engines:
Yandex – the best search engine for searches in Russian (and the best overall image search engine, in any language, anywhere)
Qwant – the best search engine for searches in French, German as well as Romance and Germanic languages.
Ecosia – a search engine that supposedly… plants trees
Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.
Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.
Parallel Translations of Poetry
The Poetry Repository – an online library of poems, poetry, verse and poetic works
Alexander Pushkin (1799-1937) was a Russian poet, playwright and prose writer, founder of the realistic trend in Russian literature, literary critic and theorist of literature, historian, publicist, journalist; one of the most important cultural figures in Russia in the first third of the 19th century.