The Water-Nymph poem – Alexander Pushkin

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

In lakeside leafy groves, a friar

Escaped all worries; there he passed

His summer days in constant prayer,

Deep studies and eternal fast.

Already with a humble shovel

The elder dug himself a grave –

As, calling saints to bless his hovel,

Death; nothing other; did he crave.

So once, upon a falling night, he

Was bowing by his wilted shack

With meekest prayer to the Almighty.

The grove was turning slowly black;

Above the lake a mist was lifting;

Through milky clouds across the sky

The ruddy moon was softly drifting,

When water drew the friar’s eye…

He’s looking puzzled, full of trouble,

Of fear he cannot quite explain,

He sees the waves begin to bubble

And suddenly grow calm again.

Then — white as first snow in the highlands,

Light-footed as nocturnal shade,

There comes ashore, and sits in silence

Upon the bank, a naked maid.

She eyes the monk and brushes gently

Her hair, and water off her arms.

He shakes with fear and looks intently

At her, and at her lovely charms.

With eager hand she waves and beckons,

Nods quickly, smiles as from afar

And shoots, within two flashing seconds,

Into still water like a star.

The glum old man slept not an instant;

All day, not even once he prayed:

Before his eyes still hung and glistened

The wondrous, the relentless shade…

The grove puts on its gown of nightfall;

The moon walks on the cloudy floor;

And there’s the maiden; pale, delightful,

Reclining on the spellbound shore.

She looks at him, her hair she brushes,

Blows airy kisses, gestures wild,

Plays with the waves; caresses, splashes –

Now laughs, now whimpers like a child,

Moans tenderly, calls louder, louder…

“Come, monk, come, monk! To me, to me!..”

Then; disappears in limpid water,

And all is silent instantly…

On the third day the zealous hermit

Was sitting by the shore, in love,

Awaiting the delightful mermaid,

As shade was covering the grove…

Dark ceded to the sun’s emergence;

Our monk had wholly disappeared –

Before a crowd of local urchins,

While fishing, found his hoary beard.

translated by: Genia Gurarie

email: egurarie@princeton.edu

http://www.princeton.edu/~egurarie/

Copyright ©: 
Genia Gurarie

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Poems in English 

• Adieu to a Soldier by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• Aboard at a Ship’s Helm. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• A Woman Waits for Me. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• A Sight in Camp. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• A Paumanok Picture. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• A March in the Ranks, Hard-prest. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• A Leaf for Hand in Hand. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• A Hand-Mirror. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• A Farm-Picture. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• A child said, What is the grass by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• The Well Of Love by Walter William Safar by Poetry In English
• Conscience by Walter William Safar by Poetry In English
• A Port Of Refuge Agleam With The Aura Of Love by Walter William Safar by Poetry In English
• A poem to mankind by Walter William Safar by Poetry In English
• A Poem Of Love by Walter William Safar by Poetry In English
• The Huntsmen by Walter de la Mare by Walter de la Mare
• The Ghost by Walter de la Mare by Walter de la Mare
• Snow by Walter de la Mare by Walter de la Mare
• The Mocking Fairy by Walter de la Mare by Walter de la Mare
• The Keys of Morning by Walter de la Mare by Walter de la Mare

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