Monday, August 21, 2006

A Russian Poem

A poem by nineteenth century Russian poet Fyodor Tyutchev translated by Vladimir Nabokov...


Speak not, lie hidden, and conceal
the way you dream, the things you feel.
Deep in our spirits let them rise
akin to stars in the crystal skies
that set before the night is blurred:
delight in them and speak no word.

How can a heart expression find?
How should another know your mind?
Will he discern what quickens you?
A thought once uttered is untrue.
Dimmed is the fountainhead when stirred:
drink at the source and speak no word.

Live in your inner self alone
within your soul a world has grown,
the magic of veiled thoughts that might
be blinded by the outer light,
drowned in the noise of the day, unheard ...
take in their song and speak no word.

*silentium is a place where silence is enforced.


adhyayan said...

Its interesting reading this poem and about Fyodor T. How did you come upon this?

Alok said...

I am reading an anthology of Nineteenth Century Russian Literature. It was there in that book.

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