Sergey Alexandrovich Yesenin
Sergei Alexandrovich Yesenin ( 1895 – 1925) was a Russian lyrical poet. He was one of the most popular and well-known Russian poets of the 20th century.
In 1916, Yesenin published his first book of poems, Ritual for the Dead (Radunitsa, Russian: Радуница). Through his collections of poignant poetry about love and the simple life, he ... more »
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Sergey Alexandrovich Yesenin Poems
No sorrow, no calls, no tears...(transla...
No sorrow, no calls, no tears. Now it's gone, white foam from apple-tree. Faded, seized by tarnished golden flares, I will not feel youthful. Never me.
Waken me early tomorrow...(translated fr...
Waken me early tomorrow, Dear mother, patient and kind! I'll go past the boundary barrow To welcome a friend of mine.
I'll no more go roaming, no more seeking...
I'll no more go roaming, no more seeking, No more crushing goosefoot in the wood. With those oatsheaf locks you tossed when speaking
I've quit my father's home...(translated...
I've quit my father's home And left blue Russ. With three Bright stars the birch-tree grove Consoles my mother's grief.
Through fields of virgin snow I roam...(...
Through fields of virgin snow I roam, Fresh lilies bursting in my heart. The dusk to guide my footsteps home Has lit a bright blue candle-star.
What I have retained of my own...(transl...
Ìíå îñòàëàñü îäíà çàáàâà: Ïàëüöû â ðîò - è âåñ¸ëûé ñâèñò. Ïðîêàòèëàñü äóðíàÿ ñëàâà,
So it happened and please don't swear......
So it happened and please don't swear. I'm a not a word dealer now. My poor head - it's too hard to bear And bent-down is my golden brow.
Cleared the cornfield, bare the boughs a...
Cleared the cornfield, bare the boughs are, From still waters mist is rolling, Like a wheel beyond the mountains Has the silent sun gone rolling.
Comments about Sergey Alexandrovich Yesenin
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
No sorrow, no calls, no tears...(translated from russian)
No sorrow, no calls, no tears.
Now it's gone, white foam from apple-tree.
Faded, seized by tarnished golden flares,
I will not feel youthful. Never me.
Now you slow down, that's the matter,
You, my heart, that suffered a cold jet.
And the land of calico birch pattern
Hardly tempts my feet to walk o'er that.
Hobo spirit! You're so rare, rare,
Waking flame in mouth. It's now tense.
Oh, my freshness, that I couldn't spare.
Brawling eyes and overflowing sence!
I've become too greedy for desires.
Life of mine? Perhaps, it was a dream?