Afanasy Afanasyevich Fet
Afanasy Afanasyevich Fet Poems
|2.||I Have Come To You Delighted||1/1/2004|
|3.||Nightingales, A Sigh, A Whisper||1/1/2004|
|4.||When You Were Reading Those Tormented Lines||1/1/2004|
|5.||The September Rose||1/1/2004|
|6.||With One Firm Thrust||1/1/2004|
|7.||By Life Tormented||1/1/2004|
|8.||While Lounging In A Chair||1/1/2004|
|9.||Upon A Haystack On A Southern Night||1/1/2004|
|10.||I Always Like The Northern Birches||1/1/2004|
|11.||What Grief! The Alley's End||4/17/2010|
|12.||My Face Turned Upwards To The Sky||4/17/2010|
I wake. Yes, it's a coffin lid.-With effort
I reach my hands out and I call
For help. Yes, I recall the tortures
Of dying.-Yes, this is no dream!-
And without effort, like a spider web
I push aside my casket's rotting wood
And stand. How bright the winter light appears
In the crypt's doorway! Can I doubt it?-
I see the snow. The crypt's without a door.
It's time to head for home. How stunned they'll be!
I know this park, I cannot lose my way.
But oh how different it looks now!
I hurry. Snowdrifts. Frigid boughs
Of dead trees poke deep into the ...