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 

• Sonnet 48: How careful was I, when I took my way by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 47: Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 46: Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 45: The other two, slight air and purging fire by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 44: If the dull substance of my flesh were thought by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 43: When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 42: That thou hast her, it is not all my grief by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 41: Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 40: Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 3: Look in thy glass, and tell the face thou viewest by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 39: O, how thy worth with manners may I sing by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 38: How can my Muse want subject to invent by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 37: As a decrepit father takes delight by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 36: Let me confess that we two must be twain by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 35: No more be grieved at that which thou hast done by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 34: Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 33: Full many a glorious morning have I seen by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 74: But be contented when that fell arrest by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 73: That time of year thou mayst in me behold by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 72: O, lest the world should task you to recite by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare

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