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 

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• Address To A Child During A Boisterous Winter By My Sister by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
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• A Night Thought by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• A Night-Piece by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• A Narrow Girdle Of Rough Stones And Crags, by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• A Flower Garden At Coleorton Hall, Leicestershire. by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• A Farewell by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• A Character by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Upon a Lady’s Fall Over a Stile, Gotten by Running From Her Love by William Wycherley by William Wycherley
• To his Indifferent Mistress by William Wycherley by William Wycherley
• The Poor Lover to His Rich Mistress about to Marry His Coxcombly Rival by William Wycherley by William Wycherley
• Sleep and Death by William Wycherley by William Wycherley
• On a Sea Fight, Which the Author was in, Betwixt the English and Dutch by William Wycherley by William Wycherley
• Love and Wine by William Wycherley by William Wycherley
• In Praise of Laziness by William Wycherley by William Wycherley
• Drinking-Song, A. To a Formal, Proud, Sober Coxcomb by William Wycherley by William Wycherley

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