The Poet poem – Alexander Pushkin

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

Until he hears Apollo’s call

To make a hallowed sacrifice,

A Poet lives in feeble thrall

To people’s empty vanities;

And silent is his sacred lyre,

His soul partakes of chilly sleep,

And of the world’s unworthy sons

He is, perhaps, the very least.

But once Divinity’s command

Approaches his exquisite ear,

The poet’s soul awakens, poised,

Just like an eagle stirred from sleep.

All worldly pleasures leave him cold,

From common talk he stays aloof,

And will not lower his proud head

Before the nation’s sacred cow.

Untamed and brooding, he takes flight,

Seething with sound and agitation,

To reach a sea-swept, desert shore,

A woodland wide and murmuring…

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Poems in English 

• Arrival by William Carlos Williams by William Carlos Williams
• April Is The Saddest Month by William Carlos Williams by William Carlos Williams
• Après le Bain by William Carlos Williams by William Carlos Williams
• Approach Of Winter by William Carlos Williams by William Carlos Williams
• A Sort Of A Song by William Carlos Williams by William Carlos Williams
• A Goodnight by William Carlos Williams by William Carlos Williams
• A Celebration by William Carlos Williams by William Carlos Williams
• Women And Roses by Robert Browning by Anglo File
• Venus, on a fur by Witty Fay by Anglo File
• Ultima Thule by William Ellery Leonard by Anglo File
• To the Victor by William Ellery Leonard by Anglo File
• The Image Of Delight by William Ellery Leonard by Anglo File
• The First Part: Sonnet 5 – How that vast heaven intitled First is roll’d, by William Drummond by Anglo File
• The First Part: Sonnet 4 – Fair is my yoke, though grievous be my pains, by William Drummond by Anglo File
• The First Part: Sonnet 3 – Ye who so curiously do paint your thoughts, by William Drummond by Anglo File
• The First Part: Sonnet 2 – I know that all beneath the moon decays by William Drummond by Anglo File
• The First Part: Sonnet 14 – Nor Arne, nor Mincius, nor stately Tiber, by William Drummond by Anglo File
• The First Part: Sonnet 13 – O sacred blush, impurpling cheeks’ pure skies by William Drummond by Anglo File
• The First Part: Sonnet 12 – Ah! burning thoughts, now let me take some rest, by William Drummond by Anglo File
• The First Part: Sonnet 11 – Lamp of heaven’s crystal hall that brings the hours, by William Drummond by Anglo File

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