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SuomiAlexander Pushkin
Anchar
In desert, withered and burned, On ground that is dry and sultry, Anchar, alone in the world, Stands like an awful, silent sentry. The nature of the thirsty land, Has borne him on the day of terror, And flesh of roots and boughs, dead, Was filled with venom blood forever. The poison oozes through...
Angel
By gates of Eden, Angel, gentle, Shone with his softly drooped head, And Demon, gloomy and resentful Over the hellish crevasse flapped. The spirit of qualm and negation Looked at another one – of good, And fire of the forced elation First time he vaguely understood. “I’ve seen you,” he...
Arion
A lot of us were on the bark: Some framed a sail for windy weather, The others strongly and together Moved oars. In silence sunk, Keeping a rudder, strong and clever, The skipper drove the heavy skiff; And I — with careless belief — I sang for sailors… . But the stiff Whirl...
Artist
The lazy artist-boor is blacking The genius’s picture with his stuff, Without any sense a-making His low drawing above. But alien paints, in stride of years, Are falling down as a dust, The genius’s masterpiece appears With former brilliance to us. Like this, the darkly apparitions Are...
Awakening
O dreams, my dreams, Where is your sweetness? Where are you, Joy of nightly fleetness? They’re gone away – My fancies, gay, And now alone In darkness grown I, sleepless, stay. A mute night hovers My bed above In a flash lone Turned cool and gone Dreams of my love, Like a tense crowd. But...
The Bacchic Song
Why hushed you, O, gaiety’s voice? Resound, the hymns of the Bacchus! Long live they, who ever had loved us — The beautiful women and sweet, gentle girls! Let glasses be full with wines’ gold! To bottom, that rings, The sacred gold rings Let fall through the wine, sweet and cold. Raise...
The Bronze Horseman
INTRODUCTION The incident, described in this story is based on a truth. The details of the flood are taken from the contemporary magazines. The curious ones can consult the record, prepared by V. I. Berkh. PROLOGUE On a deserted, wave-swept shore, He stood – in his mind great thoughts grow –...
The Burned Letter
Farewell, Letter of Love! farewell: it’s her desire. How long did I delay! How long refused, in ire, I to destroy the single joy of mine!… Enough! The time has come. Burn, scripts of love divine. I’m ready; nothing else can call for my sad soul… Now the greedy flame is touching its form...
The Cart Of Life
Tho’ it is hard – the earthly load, The Cart is easy in its move, The reckless couch-time, on road, Will not get of his bench above. In early morn we take our places; We glad to break our empty head, And leaving leisure for the races, We cry, “Go on, you idler, damned!” At […]
The Chronicle of the Versemaker
He hears with his ear, used to do it, A whistle; He marks, by expiration lurid, The scripts; Then reads to people, very busy, His soap; Then prints – and into waves of Lethe – Plop! Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, November 9, 2003
The Cloister on Kazbek
High, o’er the family of tops, lead, Kazbek, your royal dome’s spread, And shines with timeless beams around. Your cloister, hidden behind clouds, Like some ark of the heaven-land, Glides, vaguely seen over the mounds. Oh, distant and desired strand! There, saying ‘farewell’ to the gorges,...
The Cloud
The last one of clouds of scattered a tempest, Just single you’re flying in azure, the prettiest, Just single you’re bringing the sorrowful shade, Just single you’re saddening day that is glad. In nearest past, you were storming skies, mighty, And were quite enwind by the powerful lightning,...
Conversation Of a Bookseller With a Poet
He’s blessed, who in his sole saved Its most beautiful creations, And from the people, as from graves, For sense, didn’t wait their commendations! He’s blessed who, silent, was a bard And did not wear thorny crown, Forgotten with despiteful crowd, Who, nameless, left this dole, hard. More...
The Curious
‘Well, what is new?’ – ‘I swear nothing else.’ – ‘Hey, don’t cheat me; for sure, something you know. It is a shame, that from your mate, the best, You hide the things, as from a hardened foe. Or are you cross: then why, my dear friend? Just say a word; don’t play a stubborn...
The Deaf Once Called the Deaf…
The deaf once called the deaf to the deaf judge – right now; The first deaf cried: “He’s spoiled my own cow!” – “For goodness’ sake,” to that another blared, “This plot belonged still to my late granddad!” “To stop a sin,” decided the judge witty, “The pal’s to marry...
The Demon
In days, when all earthly impressions Where utter novelty for me – And looks of maids and noise of groves, And nightingale’s plea, – When highly elevated senses, The love, the liberty, the pride And arts’ fancies Such strongly aggravated blood – Having filled time of bliss and hopes With...
The Dream
Not long ago, in a charming dream, I saw myself — a king with crown’s treasure; I was in love with you, it seemed, And heart was beating with a pleasure. I sang my passion’s song by your enchanting knees. Why, dreams, you didn’t prolong my happiness forever? But gods...
The Elders…
The elders-anchorites and ever-sinless maidens, To fly with their right heart to the precincts of Heavens, To make it strong enough in earthly storms and fight, Composed many prayers to recite. But not a single pray for me is so dear As one which from a priest we often blessed to hear In so...
Elegy
Extinguished gaiety of years, which sunk in madness, Presses on me like a hangover restless. But in my soul, foregoing pine Becomes through time still stronger, like a wine. My way is sad. Predicts me toile and woe – The sea of future in a wrath and row. But, oh, my friends, I do not […]
Evgeny Onegin
Not planning fun for noble people, And liking friendship so far, I’d show you a present, little, That might be better than your are, Much better than a charming soul, Than a procured holy dream, Than poetry of life and goal, Than simple style and high thoughts’ stream; But so be it...
Farewell
It’s the last time, when I dare To cradle your image in my mind, To wake a dream by my heart, bare, With exultation, shy and air, To cue your love that’s left behind. The years run promptly; their fire Changes the world, and me, and you. For me, you now are attired In dark […]
Epigram To Death Of the Verse-Monger
Dead Klit will miss the Paradise, He’d planted sins a lot. Let Lord forget his enterprise, As was his verse forgot. Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, December, 1999 Edited by Dmitry Karshtedt, August, 2000
The Flower
The flower, very dry and scentless, I see in the forgotten book; And now, with the strangest fancies, Is filled my soul’s every nook. Where and in which spring was it grown? And how long? By whom was cut? By a hand known or unknown? And why was put this page behind? To the recall […]
The Flowers Of Autumn Days
The flowers of autumn days Are sweeter than the firsts of plains. For they awaken an impression, That’s strong, although it may be sad, Just as the pain of separation Is stronger than the sweet of date. Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, October, 1999 Edited by Dmitry Karshtedt, November, 1999
