Part Three - Poetry’s Mysterious Grief
Published online by Cambridge University Press: 20 January 2022
Summary
To Prince Pyotr Andreevich Vyazemsky
(Kak zhizni obshchie prizyvy)
Life's indiscriminate enticement
And the attraction of the dream—
You learned the passion of excitement,
Appeals both peaceful and extreme.
You’ve seen the winds abate and freshen
To which on fate's precarious ways
Our fragile sea-tossed boat obeys.
To you I dare bring my confession
About my woes, about my craze.
Yet ‘mid entanglements and blindness,
While fighting evil fortune's ploys,
I met with elevating kindness
And sought for beauty, love and joys.
A happy friend of isolation,
Whose dreams are gone beyond recall
And whose ambitious aspirations
Are killed by reason once for all;
A friend of peace and glory's minion,
For fashions, fads, and men's opinions,
I do not have the slightest care.
I, who have been maligned so often,
Forgave my foes, as from a coffin,
As from a grave (I like it there!).
And yet the Lethe I created
Sometimes I force myself to leave,
O’er steppes I fly, alive, elated,
But full of anguished thoughts, and grieve.
170
I look for you. How are you doing,
What are the goals you are pursuing—
You, who once warmed me with your rays,
When I, my wayward Fortune wooing,
Enjoyed your fire's exalted blaze?
Does Providence reward your patience?
What trials are coming from the skies?
I let my plea to heaven rise:
May ever yours be inspiration
And may ill luck unbind its ties.
Star of the Pleiad that has been scattered
I, from my wasteland, wish to say
And have no more important matter:
For High Benevolence I pray.
I pray that accidents and worries
God should not have for you in store,
Although the postman seldom hurries
To bring my letter to your door.
1834 (1836)
The Stillborn
(Ia iz plemeni dukhov)
Though I am the spirits’ kin,
Th’Empyrean is for others;
Once I touch the heavens’ rim,
Something presses me and smothers.
I am weak and at a loss;
Waves of clouds encircle Eden,
But, a pinioned breath, I toss
Up and down, by ether ridden.
- Type
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- Information
- Evgeny Boratynsky and the Russian Golden AgeUnstudied Words that Wove and Wavered, pp. 169 - 192Publisher: Anthem PressPrint publication year: 2020