A poem by Alexander Pushkin – Pouchkine, Pooshkin (1799-1837), in English translation
Stormy clouds delirious straying,
Showers of whirling snowflakes white,
And the pallid moonbeams waning–
Sad the heavens, sad the night!
Further speeds the sledge, and further,
Loud the sleighbell’s melody,
Grewsome, frightful ’tis becoming,
‘Mid these snow fields now to be!
Hasten! “That is useless, Master,
Heavier for my team their load,
And my eyes with snow o’er plastered
Can no longer see the road!
Lost all trace of our direction,
Sir, what now? The goblins draw
Us already round in circles,
Pull the sledge with evil claw!
See! One hops with frantic gesture,
In my face to grin and hiss,
See! It goads the frenzied horses
Onward to the black abyss!
In the darkness, like a paling
One stands forth,–and now I see
Him like walking-fire sparkling–
Then the blackness,–woe is me!”
Stormy clouds delirious straying,
Showers of snowflakes whirling white,
And the pallid moonbeams waning–
Sad the heavens, sad the night!
Sudden halt the weary horses,
Silent too the sleighbells whirr–
Look! What crouches on the ground there?
“Wolf,–or shrub,–I know not, Sir.”
How the wind’s brood rage and whimper!
Scenting, blow the triple team;
See! One hops here! Forward Driver!
How his eyes with evil gleam!
Scarce controllable the horses,
How the harness bells resound!
Look! With what a sneering grimace
Now the spirit band surround!
In an endless long procession,
Formless, countless of their kind
Circle us in flying coveys
Like the leaves in Autumn wind.
Now in ghastly silence deathly,
Now with shrilling elfin cry–
Is it some mad dance of bridal,
Or a death march passing by?
Stormy clouds delirious straying
Showers of snowflakes whirling white,
And the pallid moonbeams waning–
Sad the heavens, sad the night!
Cloudward course the evil spirits
In unceasing phantom bands,
And their moaning and bewailing
Grip my heart with icy hands!
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External links
Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus
Talking Writing Monster’s Page –
Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh
Poems in English
- Robert Burns: The Young Highland Rover:
- Robert Burns: My Peggy’s Charms:
- Robert Burns: Braving Angry Winter’s Storms:
- Robert Burns: The Banks Of The Devon:
- Robert Burns: Epitaph For Mr. W. Cruikshank:
- Robert Burns: A Rose-Bud By My Early Walk:
- Robert Burns: Blythe Was She:
- Robert Burns: On Scaring Some Water-Fowl In Loch-Turit : A wild scene among the Hills of Oughtertyre.
- Robert Burns: The Bonie Lass Of Albany:
- Robert Burns: Theniel Menzies’ Bonie Mary:
- Robert Burns: Lady Onlie, Honest Lucky:
- Robert Burns: Castle Gordon:
- Robert Burns: Strathallan’s Lament:
- Robert Burns: Epigram On Parting With A Kind Host In The Highlands:
- Robert Burns: Lines On The Fall Of Fyers Near Loch-Ness.: Written with a Pencil on the Spot.
- Robert Burns: The Humble Petition Of Bruar Water: To the noble Duke of Athole.
- Robert Burns: The Birks Of Aberfeldy:
- Robert Burns: Verses Written With A Pencil Over the Chimney-piece in the Parlour of the Inn at Kenmore, Taymouth.:
- Robert Burns: The Libeller’s Self-Reproof:
- Robert Burns: The Poet’s Reply To The Threat Of A Censorious Critic: My imprudent lines were answered, very petulantly, by somebody, I believe, a Rev. Mr. Hamilton. In a MS., where I met the answer, I wrote below:-
More external links (open in a new tab):
Doska or the Board – write anything
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Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.
Parallel Translations of Poetry
The Poetry Repository – an online library of poems, poetry, verse and poetic works
Alexander Pushkin (1799-1937) was a Russian poet, playwright and prose writer, founder of the realistic trend in Russian literature, literary critic and theorist of literature, historian, publicist, journalist; one of the most important cultural figures in Russia in the first third of the 19th century.