Gavrila Romanovich Derzhavin
Gavrila Romanovich Derzhavin was arguably one of the greatest Russian poets before Alexander Pushkin, as well as a statesman. Although his works are traditionally considered literary classicism, his best verse is rich with antitheses and conflicting sounds in a way reminiscent of John Donne and other metaphysical poets.
Derzhavin was born in Kazan. His distant ancestor Morza Bagrim, who relocated from the Great Horde in the 15th century to Moscow, was baptized and became a vassal of the Russian Grand Prince Vasily II. Nevertheless, by the 18th century Derzhavin's father was just a poor country squire who died when Gavrila was still young. He received a little ... more »
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Gavrila Romanovich Derzhavin Poems
God-like Tsarevna Of the Kirgiz-Kaisatskii horde! Whose wisdom matchless Opened the true path
O Thou, who's infinite in space, Alive in ever-moving matter, Eternal in the flow of time, God faceless, with a trinity of faces!
Why do you strike up songs military Fife-like, o, bullfinch, my friend? Who'll take the lead in our fight with Hell's forces? Who will command us? What Hercules?
On The Death Of Prince Meshchersky
O, Voice of time! O, metal's clang! Your dreadful call distresses me, Your groan doth beckon, beckon me It beckons, brings me closer to my grave.
I'll leave the mortal world behind, Take wing in an flight fantastical, With singing, my eternal soul Will rise up swan-like in the air.
I built myself a monument, eternal and miraculous, It's higher than the Pyramids, than metal it is harder; Swift winds and thunder cannot knock it down The flight of time cannot demolish it.
The Current Of Time's River
The current of time's river Will carry off all human deeds And sink into oblivion All peoples, kingdoms and their kings.
On A Bird
To Rulers and Judges
He's risen - Highest God - to do the judgment, fair, Of the earthly ones in their whole band; How long - he sad - how long will you else spare The unjust and wicked people in your land.
Comments about Gavrila Romanovich Derzhavin
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
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Of the Kirgiz-Kaisatskii horde!
Whose wisdom matchless
Opened the true path
To young Prince Khlor
To go up on that high peak
Where the rose without thorns grows,
Where virtue dwells:
It takes my spirit and mind prisoner,
Tell me how to find it.
Tell me, Felitsa:
How to live opulently yet justly,
How to subdue the storm of passions
And be happy in the world.
Your voice wakes me,
Your son sends me;
But to follow them I am too weak.
Disturbed by everyday trifles,
Today I control myself,
But tomorrow ...