A poem by Alexander Pushkin – Pouchkine, Pooshkin (1799-1837), in English translation
A LEGEND OF THE WATER-SPRITE
In forest depths, beside a mere,
A monk once made his habitation ;
Absorbed in penances severe,
In fast and prayer he sought salvation.
Already by his own poor spade
His grave was hollowed to receive him,
And every day the good saint prayed
That Heaven from earth would soon relieve him.
One summer’s eve, the hermit poor,
At prayer within his narrow room,
Looked out beyond his humble door
And saw the forest wrapped in gloom ;
Night-mists were rising from the mere,
Between the clouds the moon ‘gan peep;
The monk unto the pool drew near
And gazed into its waters deep.
He saw himself-drew back perturbed
By fears he ne’er had known before ;
For, lo, the waters were disturbed,
Then suddenly grew calm once more ;
“While fitful as a twilight shade,
Than virgin snow more purely white,
From out the pool appeared a maid
Approaching in the silver light.
She shook the bright drops from her hair
And gazed upon the anchorite ;
To look upon her form so fair
The good monk trembled with affright.
And he beheld her from afar
With head and hand strange signals make,
Then swifter than a shooting star
Dive back into the silent lake.
All night the hermit could not sleep,
All day in agony he prayed ;
But still he could not choose but keep
The image of that wondrous maid
Before him. So, when day did wane,
And overhead the moon was bright,
He watched, and saw her come again
In all her beauty, dazzling white.
She beckoned to him where he stood,
And gave him greeting glad and free.
She played and splashed about the flood,
She laughed and danced in childish glee,
As softly to the monk she cried :
” Come hither, monk, and join me here!”
Then suddenly she dipped to hide
Her beauty in the darkling mere.
The third day came-grown mad with love,
The hermit sought th’ enchanted shore
Ere yet night’s veil was drawn above,
And waited for the maid once more.
Dawn broke-the monk had disappeared . . .
And now the frightened children say
He haunts the pool: and lo! his beard
Floats on the water night and day.
A few random poems:
- The White Cliffs
- Dedication by Wole Soyinka
- Grammar by Tony Hoagland
- Зинаида Александрова – Игрушки
- Come Sleep, O Sleep! The Certain Knot Of Peace by Sir Philip Sidney
- A child said, What is the grass by Walt Whitman
- Олег Бундур – Когда я вернусь
- Erin! The Tear and the Smile in Thine Eyes by Thomas Moore
- Robert Burns: Epistle To J. Lapraik, An Old Scottish Bard:
- At Dover by William Lisle Bowles
- Олег Бундур – Папа возмущается
- A Man Young And Old: VI. His Memories by William Butler Yeats
- Silent Steps by Rabindranath Tagore
- Where Are You?
- Sketch—New Year’s Day, 1790 by Robert Burns
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 Farewell:
- Robert Burns: Stanzas On Naething: Extempore Epistle to Gavin Hamilton, Esq.
- Robert Burns: Lines Written On A Banknote:
- Robert Burns: Lines To Mr. John Kennedy:
- Robert Burns: Motto Prefixed To The Author’s First Publication:
- Robert Burns: Lines To An Old Sweetheart:
- Robert Burns: The Lass O’ Ballochmyle:
- Robert Burns: Epitaph On “Wee Johnie”: Hic Jacet wee Johnie.
- Robert Burns: Epitaph For Gavin Hamilton, Esq.:
- Robert Burns: Epitaph For Robert Aiken, Esq.:
- Robert Burns: A Bard’s Epitaph:
- Robert Burns: Farewell To Eliza:
- Robert Burns: On A Scotch Bard, Gone To The West Indies:
- Robert Burns: The Farewell To the Brethren of St. James’ Lodge, Tarbolton:
- Robert Burns: Versified Note To Dr. Mackenzie, Mauchline:
- Robert Burns: A Dedication : To Gavin Hamilton, Esq.
- Robert Burns: A Dream: Thoughts, words, and deeds, the Statute blames with reason; But surely Dreams were ne’er indicted Treason. On reading, in the public papers, the Laureate’s Ode, with the other parade of June 4th, 1786, the Author was no sooner dropt asleep, than he imagined himself transported to the Birth-day Levee: and, in his dreaming fancy, made the following Address:
- Robert Burns: Address Of Beelzebub: To the Right Honourable the Earl of Breadalbane, President of the Right Honourable and Honourable the Highland Society, which met on the 23rd of May last at the Shakespeare, Covent Garden, to concert ways and means to frustrate the designs of five hundred Highlanders, who, as the Society were informed by Mr. M’Kenzie of Applecross, were so audacious as to attempt an escape from their lawful lords and masters whose property they were, by emigrating from the lands of Mr. Macdonald of Glengary to the wilds of Canada, in search of that fantastic thing-Liberty.
- Robert Burns: Epistle To A Young Friend:
- Robert Burns: My Highland Lassie, O:
More external links (open in a new tab):
Doska or the Board – write anything
Search engines:
Yandex – the best search engine for searches in Russian (and the best overall image search engine, in any language, anywhere)
Qwant – the best search engine for searches in French, German as well as Romance and Germanic languages.
Ecosia – a search engine that supposedly… plants trees
Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.
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.