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THE BIRCH
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Under my sill
The white birch tree
Stands dressed in snow
And silvery.
On fluffy boughs,
All snowy edged,
A white tasseled fringe
Of clusters hangs.
The birch-tree stands
In drowsy quiet;
White snowflakes flame
With golden fire.
And lazily
The circling dawn
Showers the boughs
With silver anon.
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Sergey Yesenin
Translated by Natalia Sheniloff
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 |
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SUMMERTIME
The bird-cherry tree is now long withered,
And mid the flowering summer gardens
No longer sway in gentle breezes
The fans of lilacs’ fragrant flowers.
The greening hops are slowly climbing
Along the walls of long-poled perches;
The reddish glow of lush peonies
Flames low over the sumptuous grasses.
The golden stars gaze in the mirrored
Transparent currents of the river;
Amid the rye, like deep-blue eyes,
The lovely cornflowers bluely glimmer.
We have attained the crown of summer,
But still I pine for days of springtime;
Despite the present joyous blooming,
My heart is lightly filled with sorrow.
I have become afraid of losing
All that makes life so greatly wondrous,
All that the heart has long awaited,
For which the soul has keenly thirsted.
K. R.
Translated by Natalia Sheniloff |
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MARCH
|
 |
‘Tis not yet March, but melting snow
Already runs and bares the ground.
Of springtime currents’ merry course
Once more I hear the joyous sound.
The
streams did break the brittle ice,
The rooks have flown back from afar.
Another week or two shall pass,
And all will come alive and flower.
O sun, do
lovingly warm the earth
With thy revitalizing rays,
And with a tale of spring
revive
The meadows’ mute and deadened space.
‘Tis time for icy wintered souls
To wake from paralyzing sleep:
O grant me, spring, thy good and light
In
battling darkness for to keep.
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– K. R.
Translated by Natalia Sheniloff
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EVENING
The ocean blew into my face
The freshness of the setting sun.
A
rumble as of rustling woods
Or muted bells rushed over me.
Two seagulls there,
upon the waves,
All spellbound sat and gazed beyond
Into the evening, where
the sun
Was settling down into its bark.
That ocean bark of blazing gold
Was all encircled by the clouds,
And night came wandering down sunset’s path,
The skyline shading on its way.
Beyond the ocean, in the haze,
The cliffs and
precipices towered,
And all was dark upon the earth,
While in the heavens the
angels prayed.
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– V. Utrenev
Translated By Natalia Sheniloff
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NORTH
|
I see again my native north:
Stretching away far out of
sight –
A plain of greening fields before me,
And o’er the river – a gold-domed
church.
Around, as far as eye can see,
There is no trace of habitation.
Just gorges, meadows, woods, and hills,
Wide open spaces – paradise!
How
curative are for my heart
The silence and tranquility,
And once again my soul is
filled
With joy and magnanimity.
|
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– K. R.
Translated by Natalia Sheniloff
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THE WINTER OF LIFE
|
 |
|
Winter valleys are snow-covered,
All around is crisp and clear…
Graying hairs
at our temples
Indicate that change is near.
Visions of the heart are purer,
And desires have all flown,
The sting of death no longer frightens,
Cares are
buried under snow.
Great joy comes to us in winter:
To the manger we do speed
And, rejoicing with the magi,
The star of Bethlehem we see.
|
|
- A. Korovay-Metelitsky
Translated by Natalia
Sheniloff
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THE PINE FOREST
|
 |
The wind is rustling through the crowns of forest pines.
I wander through the
woods alone – what utter joy!
The sacred spaces of my soul are open wide,
And
inspiration comes to glorify the Lord.
O, how I wish to breathe in to the fullest depth
The fresh invigorating balsam of the pine;
Revitalizing old life’s spiritual strength
For a new life of sacred mission now assigned,
Wherein my soul, all purified by earthly
sorrow,
Will strive not back to where the ancient forest stands,
But will
strive ardently to merge with the blue yonder,
Where mighty choirs of angels boom like
God’s own thunder!
|
|
- Princess N.V. Ourusoff
Translated by Natalia
Sheniloff
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| THE WORLD THROUGH THE EYES OF FAITH |
I saw God wash the world last night
With His sweet showers on high;
And
then when morning came,
I saw Him hang it out to dry.
He washed each tiny blade
of grass
And every trembling tree;
He flung His showers against the hills
And swept the rolling sea.
The white rose is a cleaner white;
The red, a richer
red
Since God washed every fragrant face
And put them all to bed.
There’s not a bird, there’s not a bee
That wings along the way,
But is a
cleaner bird or bee
Than it was yesterday.
I saw God wash the world last night;
Ah, would He had washed me
As clean of all my dust and dirt
As that old white
birch tree!
|
 |
| - W.L. Stidger |
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| SNOW |
 |
Fall, o fall, thou snow so downy,
Like a blanket spread thy girth.
Fall, o
light one, fall, o pure one,
Cover up the frozen earth.
As thou hazes the horizon,
Every color, hue, and shade
Veil thou in purest whiteness,
Cover all as with a
shroud.
To the colorless, and silent,
Sometimes lifeless, without zest,
Hushed and deeply muted nature
Give thou peace and quiet rest –
To forget itself
in winter,
Deeply slumbering till spring,
Dreaming all the wondrous fancies,
All the reveries thou bring’st;
To amass new strength and powers
For renewed life
in the spring,
When the mystery of creation
Resurrects all frozen things.
|
|
- K. R.
Translated by Natalia Sheniloff
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| THE BIRDS ARE BACK… |
 |
‘Tis barely March, and yet the snow
Already melts and bares the ground.
The springtime waters’ cheerful flow
Once more entrances and astounds.
The
currents break the brittle ice.
The birds have all returned to nest…
And in
just two or three weeks’ time
The world will come alive and bloom.
O sun, with
your enlivening rays
Do tenderly warm up the earth,
And with the fairy tale of
spring
Dispel the deadness of the fields!
And thou, my soul, still
winter-bound,
‘Tis time for thee to wake from sleep:
Grant light and goodness
to me, spring,
To combat evil and the dark!
- K. R.
Translated by Natalia Sheniloff
|
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| MAY |
|
The month of May is back! The cranes
Have all returned to preen,
The fields are
all a-bloom with flowers,
The forests are all green.
There follows winter’s
mighty sleep
A wakening of all,
As after long night’s darkness comes
The
nascence of the dawn.
The winter merely seemed to wait
For spring’s caressing
kiss,
And nature instantly revived,
All jubilant and pleased.
The whole
world sings – the breadth of fields,
The murmur of the grove,
The magic beauty of
the spring,
The nightingale’s song.
With springtime happily content,
The
poet sleeps no more.
The stirring of creative power
He senses in his soul;
He plucks his tender lyre’s strings
And full of inspiration,
His song upwards to
heaven wings
In freedom’s exultation.
|
- K. R.
Translated by Natalia Sheniloff
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| AUTUMNAL SEASON |
|
The beauty of the earth is wasted
By summer’s cruel switch to winter,
‘Tis just
the canopy of heaven
That stays intact in all its splendor.
The flowers mourn the
saddened garden,
Their fragrance can no more be scented;
But raise thine eyes,
and in the heavens
The Milky Way glows luminescent.
Here all is inclement and
dreary,
The forests’ finery has fallen,
Yet stars in heaven are undimmed
And shine in all their dazzling glory.
And though the azure of the skies
May be
overcast with misty haze,
We know that there, beyond the clouds,
‘Tis always
wondrously ablaze!
|
| - K. R. |
 |
|
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| AUTUMN |
|
A clear autumn day,
The forest stands golden,
Sadly bidding farewell
To its yellow-hued leaves.
The color of sky
Is steely blue-gray,
Stretched across like a ribbon
Flies a row of cranes.
Like a bright green carpet
At the foot of the hills
The winter crops
Delight the eye.
O’er the
overgrown pond
With the silent water
The weeping willows
Are quietly
leaning.
Flocks of jackdaws circle
Above empty fields,
Picking out grain
From neglected sheaves.
A clear autumn day,
The forest stands golden,
Sadly bidding farewell
To its yellow-hued leaves…
|
 |
- N. V. Urusova.
Translated by Natalia
Sheniloff
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| TO AUTUMN |
Unavoidable and fatal,
Thou hast come upon us slyly,
O, thou tenderest
destroyer
Of the summer’s pleasing looks!
Having lured both woods and gardens
With seduction and caresses,
Thou dost color their attire
In entrancing hues
and shades.
Having clothed them all most kingly
In the royal robes of splendor,
Thou wilt strip off in thy whimsy
The rich vestments of the groves.
Yet until
the phantom beauty
Has been lifted from the forest,
How alluring and how lovely
Is this colorful palette!
Very soon, with mournful meekness,
In the quiet hour
of fading,
Our garden will bequeath us
A last smile of farewell.
As I
come to peace most humbly
With this sad and solemn season,
To the twilight time
of nature
I must give up in defeat.
|
 |
|
- Ê. Ð.
Translated by Natalia Sheniloff
|
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| NIGHTFALL |
The evening sea bade the sunset farewell,
The surf sang a hymn to the
forthcoming night,
An unearthly calm merged with silence on earth.
And
Someone was lighting the stars in the dark,
And Someone was walking on waves as on
ground,
Unseen, and unheard, and ethereal as air.
The swelling waves heeded
the bodiless Spirit,
The cliffs in their deep granite dreams were all ear.
The evening sea seemed as though it were praying,
As though it appealed to the
heavens from earth,
And in that immensity all that once happened
Revealed
itself now in the silence of night.
The winds, and the waves, and the nocturnal
cliffs,
As though merged together in one single swell,
Gazed deep into space
beyond all earthly bounds,
Where the fathomless mystery of ages began,
Where
the robes of the Lord shone with myriads of stars,
And the temple all glittered in
bright starlit glory,
Where heaven and sea sang their eternal song,
And wave
upon wave crashed its way to the shore.
|
- V.N. Utrenev
Translated by Natalia
Sheniloff
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|
THE STARS |
At the hour of midnight, near a stream,
Lift thine eyes and watch the starry
sky:
Myriads of miracles take place
In that vastly distant world on high.
The eternal candles of the night
Are unseen amid the glare of day,
Giant
pillars of unquenched fire
Move so stately and so far away.
In the quiet hour
of midnight calm,
Chasing the deceit of sleep away,
Let thy soul gaze deeply at
the words
Of the fishermen from Galilee,
And within the confines of this book
The eternal shall unfold before thee,
The celestial firmament of heaven
In its
boundlessness and radiant beauty.
- A. S. Khomyakov (1804-1860)
Translated by Natalia Sheniloff
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ON A VIOLET
With all my heart I love this modest flower -
How much its merely being says
to me!
In early spring a fresh bouquet of violets
Invigorates and warmly
comforts me.
While walking through the garden, in
the grass These nearly unseen flowers I espy -
I stand and
ponder, and I dare not pluck:
Of whom dost thou remind so
poignantly? And I remember people with a soul
As genuinely
humble as a violet’s,
They’re barely seen, they’re pitiful at times,
But all
shine brightly in the eyes of God.
- A. Korovay-Metelitsky
Translated by Natalia Sheniloff
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| SPRINGTIME |
|
The sun so brightly shining, |
| The apple trees in bloom, |
|
Birds from the south are flying |
| And weaving nests anew. |
|
The yellow dandelions |
| Have spread over the fields, |
|
And in the lilac bushes |
| The nightingale sings. |
|
The violets in the woods, |
| Alongside morels placed, |
|
Peer out from under leaves |
| With limpid, joyous gaze. |
|
Now overflowing with water, |
| The streams do merrily run, |
|
And both the grass and bushes |
| Await their flowering turn |
|
Again the glorious cycle – |
| Each spring, just like the first, |
|
The world’s a thing of beauty, |
| A paradise on earth. |
|
Princess N.V. Ourousoff
Translated
by Natalia Sheniloff |
|
 |
|
|
| SPRINGTIME |
With the chant of paschal prayers
And a pealing of the bells,
Spring comes bursting in upon us
From its distant southern lairs.
Dim and shady forests languish
In an ever-greening attire.
Skies are shimmering like the sea,
And the sea – just like the skies.
Pines are dressed in greenish velvet,
And the fragrant, odorous resin
Flows along the scaly columns
In a stream of precious amber.
And today in our garden,
In a shy, secluded spot,
I saw lilies of the valley
Kiss a white-winged pale moth! |
- K.M. Fofanov (1862 – 1911)
Translated
by Natalia Sheniloff
|
|
 |
|
|
CELESTIAL MUSIC
|
Out of eternity
Music was heard,
And into infinity
Straightaway flowed,
All chaos along with it
Taking away.
In the
chasm like a whirlwind
The stars began swirling,
Their every ray singing
Like musical strings,
And life, being stirred
By this divine vibration,
Shows only to him
Its true inspiration,
Who is sometimes attune
To
this music celestial,
Whose mind is wide open,
Whose heart is aflame.
|
 |
|
- Ya. P. Polonskiy (1819 – 1898)
Translated by Natalia
Sheniloff
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* * *
|
When yellowing wheat stands shimmering in the breeze,
Which rustles through
the freshly-scented woods,
And in the garden hides the crimson plum
Beneath
the sweet shade of the greening leaf;
When dew-sprinkled lilies of the
field.
In rosy eve or in the golden hour of dawn,
From ’neath the bushes nod
their silver heads
In pleasant greeting, as I wander by;
When icy
brooks along the gorges run,
Immersing all my thoughts into a dream,
And
murmur in my ear mysterious tales
Of peaceful lands from whence they spring:
Then is my soul’s anxiety becalmed,
My frowning brow is eased and set at
rest,
And happiness seems possible on earth,
And in the open heavens I see
God…
|
- Mikhail Lermontov
Translated by
Natalia Sheniloff
|
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BLESSINGS ON YOU
|
|
Forests and fields, blessings on you!
Blessings on hills, on vales
and rills,
On freedom and on skies of blue!
Blessings upon my pilgrim’s staff,
Blessings on this bedraggled sack,
And on the vastness of the steppes,
The
sun’s bright light, the dark of night,
The narrow, lonely, winding track
Beneath this beggar’s steps!
I bless each grass-blade ‘neath the sun
And every
star above.
O, if my soul could be but one
With all of you within my love,
And I could lock in my embrace,
All friends, all foes, my brothers all
And
everything on this earth’s face!
|
 |
- Count A.K. Tolstoy
Translated by Kosara Gavrilovic.
|
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IN WINTER
|
 |
|
The quietude |
| Of mute and tranquil wilderness! |
|
The brilliance |
| Of meadows blanketed by snow! |
|
The purity |
| Of limpid waters turned to ice! |
|
The loveliness |
| Of groves and forests iced with rime! |
|
How exquisite |
| The magic sights of wintertime! |
|
Sleep, oh my soul, |
| As sleep the snowdrifts, ponds and birch… |
|
Oh, learn to fathom |
| Nature’s stern serenity, |
|
Wherein reside |
| All bliss and earth’s felicity. |
|
Brighter than snow |
| May all thy dreams and visions be, |
|
And purer than ice |
| Thy heart’s impassioned aspirations. |
|
Let winter teach thee, |
| By its exquisite paucity, |
|
To clothe thyself |
| In spirit’s beauty incorporeal. |
|
|
- K. R.
(Grand-Duke Konstantin Romanov)
Poem
translated by Kosara Gavrilovic
|
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THE FOREST
MONASTICS
|
|
Deep in the forest I recall one night.
A lonely skete gleamed like the Milky
Way,
A single bell’s ringing rose through the mist
And marked the passing of
the dying day.
Beneath the benediction of the bell,
The pines, erect and tall,
motionless stayed.
Before the ancient icons of the saints
The forest elders
stood there long and prayed.
In that vast sea of forest peace, remain
The monks
like forms of other-worldly life.
There is no grief, no groans of human pain,
No age-long enmities, no hurt, no strife.
All that is left behind, outside the Pale –
The agony of years, all gone to waste,
The tears. Abandoned also was the trail
Of days whose very trace is here erased.
And when again the sun sends forth its rays,
Into God’s Garden, which no eye can see,
This forest turns. A myriad-voiced praise
Is raised and with the incense of each tree
Sent to the Sun of all Eternity.
|
 |
- V. Utrenev.
Translated by Kosara
Gavrilovic.
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TWILIGHT
|
 |
The gloaming has already deepened,
But in the sky, above the weary earth,
The crimson gleam of sunlight glitters,
Reflected on the golden domes;
And summoning to dreams and prayer
All those who orphaned are and poor,
The
crosses on the high bell towers
Continue shining here and there,
As
though the sun’s delay in resting
On every church’s golden dome
Strives to
remind us of the One
Who promised us the resurrection.
|
|
|
| Petrograd. February 1917. |
| Translated by Natalia Sheniloff |
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SPRING
|
|
Spring, o spring! How pure the air!
How clear the azure sky!
With its cerulean shining blue
It does so blind the eye.
Spring, o spring! On zephyr’s wings
How inexpressibly high,
Caressing sunshine’s fiery rays,
The clouds so loftily fly!
The running streams! The sparkling streams!
The river thunders by
And carries on its mighty crest
The cracking, thawing ice!
The trees are somewhat bare as yet,
But in the grove the leaves,
As always crackle underfoot
And fragrantly appease.
Towards the sun the unseen lark
Flies off and sweetly sings
A beauteous chant, a wondrous hymn
In honor of the spring…
– Ye. Baratynskiy
Translated by Natalia Sheniloff
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 |
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PRAYER
|
|
There are illuminating moments:
The earth is so incomparably fair!
And such unearthly bliss and rapture
Encompass our soul.
To the Creator of the world
The flower gifts fragrance, the bird – its song:
And all creation to its Maker
Does offer thanks.
O if we could only join together
With flower, and bird, and all of earth,
And with them all pray just as they do
In single prayer;
And without words, thoughts, or entreaties
Let our trembling soul flame in delight,
Full of life’s joyous wonderful oblivion
And reverent awe!
— K. R.
— Translated by Natalia Sheniloff
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SNOW
|
|
Fall, o fluffy snow, keep falling,
Like a veil spread over all;
Fall, o light one, fall, o pure one,
Cover thou the frozen earth.
Spreading haziness o’er yonder,
Every color, hue, and shade
In the purity of whiteness
Do attire like a shroud.
And to nature, now so placid,
Silent, colorless, and mute
And at times so very lifeless,
Give tranquility and rest,
To forget all during winter,
And to sleep until the spring,
Dreaming all the pleasant visions
Thou hast wafted onto it,
Storing up new inner power
For a different plane of being,
And in spring be resurrected
By the mystery of creation.
— K. R.
— Translated by Natalia Sheniloff
|
 |
|
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SPRINGTIME
Spring streams are running… The sunny blue sky
Has joyously warmed up the fields.
The sorrows of winter, so long being suffered,
Are shed off by earth’s running tears.
Midnight dawns, melting with languorous bliss,
Chase ye far out of our sight
The long winter night with its thousands of stars,
So dark and so long in the skies.
Swallows, so keenly awaiting return,
Gentlest children of spring,
Flying back here to familiar nests,
Bring back our happiest dreams.
The apple tree, shaking off snow, is attired
In a garment of purest white blooms;
O, how enchanting it is, with its freshness
So fragrantly filling the air!
Warm us, o sun, and blindingly glitter,
Replacing the darkness and ice;
Let us take pleasure in ravishing springtime,
Forgetting the winter and snow.
– K. R.
Translated by Natalia Sheniloff
|
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SPRING
It’s barely March, and yet the snow
Is melting now, baring the ground.
I listen to the merry flow
Of springtime waters with great joy.
The streams have broken up the ice,
The rooks have come back to their nests…
Another two-three weeks will pass –
The world will bloom, enlivened again.
Caress the ground, o wondrous sun,
With thy life-giving and warm rays,
And with spring’s fairy tale refresh
The dour deadness of the fields!
It’s time for my benumbed soul
To wake up from its winter sleep:
O, give me light and goodness, spring,
To combat darkness and live on!
– K. R.
– Translated by Natalia Sheniloff
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