A.Pushkin, To Zhukovsky - translation (rus.)
When, world of dreams aspiring as aim
With a high-poetical and elevated soul,
You keep a lyre on your knees and handle
It with the impatient fingers so,
That dreams are coming in a row before eyes
In mists of tales, in the fairy of dark
And the momental cold of the spark
Of inspiration waves your hair's bundle, -
You're right, and you create for ones,
Who're not the lawers jealous, thus,
Not the collectors poor of the alien
Thoughts and the assessments, news,
But for the friends of the real talented,
Keen friends of the core of truth.
Not many people have the happiness,
Nor many ones feel weight of crown.
And blessed is that man, who remembers
The high-poetical sultry power!
Who got acknowledged with the beauty
And fetched it to his storage fair
And your elation understood, too,
As his delight so light and glaring.
Lyudmila Purgina's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (A.Pushkin, To Zhukovsky - translation (rus.) by Lyudmila Purgina )
- Without Tear, Neela Nath
- Dogs and cats, gajanan mishra
- Vicious circle, Jole Hans
- Get your body and mind back, O men, gajanan mishra
- Angst, Jole Hans
- I Will..., ging taping
- Another Reaser Christmas!, Sharilynn Dawn Reaser
- A dogs life, michael hagwood
- MIKE WASN'T HAPPY, shannon strauss
- Unique We Are, Mantu Mahakul