With green lipstick on pouting lips
and pendulum sway in her walking—
adoration at finger tips—
thankfully we can’t hear her talking.
But now, everyone is without poise.
HD glares and surround-sound noise—
Producer of his own life story
content in all its gory glory.
The six-finger selfie in church
claimed by the Director to be right—
his hue clashed wildly with the pyrite.
Minions’ common sense left in lurch.
The grainy figure lost his detail
as the entourage has now hightail’d.
Alexander Pushkin playwright &poet
considered the most talented Russian yet
He started in his mid teens
& explored thr social activist scene
I Loved You
by Alexander Pushkin
English translation by Michael R. Burch
I loved you ... perhaps I love you still ...
perhaps for a while such emotions may remain.
But please don’t let my feelings trouble you;
I do not wish to cause you further pain.
I loved you ... thus the hopelessness I knew ...
The jealousy, the diffidence, the pain
resulted in two hearts so wholly true
the gods might grant us leave to love again.
Keywords/Tags: Pushkin, Russian, Translation, Love, Loved, Lovers, Emotion, Emotions, Feeling, Feelings, Pain, Pains, Hope, Hopelessness, Heart, Hearts, Heartache, Heartbreak, Relationship, Relationships
There is a country far away, though today
Not so far, but wide as the eye can see,
Though a place you would not like to stay;
A place once valued in time and history,
Where stories were told, the people bold,
Now grown tired, now grown old;
And people asked how this came about,
The future seemed bright without a doubt.
Perhaps, they said, it’s all down to oil,
And looking up to the oligarchs -
Quick to take out but not put back -
Whilst others have to sweat and toil,
Knowing they could never win,
For if they stray, the boot is Put-in.
The Meandering Brook
*******************
the brook meanders across the moorland,
dividing heather and bracken with banks
adorned with wetland flora, looking grand.
sandy patches, fauna can fill their tanks.
birds of many feathers' quench their thirst, bathe.
water shrew, get lucky, a chance to gaze.
a dipper where the bank widens; washed rock.
the brook earns its reputation, don't knock!
it gurgles, babbles, the midges raving,
mosquitoes, mayflies, themselves on display,
searching for a mate, only have one day.
water scorpions, be wary, nippers!
babbling brook now meanders on, a stream,
then a river full of shoals of bronze bream!
I loved you so, and maybe feeling
yet didn't fade away in soul,
but let it do not make your thrilling
I do not want you sad at all.
I loved so hopeless and so silent,
I was so jealous and so shy,
I loved you tenderly and violent,
let someone love you so like I.
1829
P.S. This is my translation of poem by Alexander Pushkin
There're frost and sun, the day is fairy,
You're sleeping yet, sweetheart, you're merry,
It's time, wake up, my pretty lass,
Open your eyes that are so tender
towards Aurora and her splendour
Rise like the Northern star to bless.
The eve, remember, evil blizzard,
Sky's full of mist, sky was imprisoned,
the moon was just like yellow stain,
It shone through clouds that were so gloomy,
You were so sad, your room is roomy,
But now, look in the window, hey...
Under the blue-blue skies of glory,
under the sun without some hurry
the snow that like great carpet lies,
Transparent forest blackened truly,
The hoarfrost covers spruces coolly
And river's shining through the ice.
I see the room is full of amber,
Room's bright and stove sings with great temper
of burning firewood.
It's good to think near bed, but maybe
order to harness horse, my lady,
to slide, it would be good.
We're sliding on the snow of morning,
My sweetheart, let horse runs to dawning,
There is no time to wait.
Let's visit empty field, let's visit
thick forests, oh, I really miss it,
And shore that's sweet for our date.
P.S. This is my translation of poem by Alexander Pushkin
I can remember time of wonder
when you appeared before my eyes
like fleeting vision like a thunder,
pure queen of beauty and sunrise.
In tiresome longing of despair
in noisy troubles of ado
your tender voice was in my air
I saw sweet dreamings about you.
Years passed. A riot of rebellion
dispelled these dreamings of the past
I heard your tender voice so seldom
Your skyey features almost passed.
In wilderness of gloomy prison
I spent my very quiet days
without a deity and reason
to cry, to live, to love, to blaze.
And soul awakened with the wonder
and you are here before my eyes
like fleeting vision, like a thunder,
pure queen of beauty and sunrise.
In ecstasy my heart left prison
I have my deity and your face
inspires me. That is the reason
to cry, to live, to love, to blaze.
P.S. This translation of poem by Alexander Pushkin
In pale sunshine as Winter bids farewell
A pretty face appears to spark a smile
Of golden dreams to cast a lighter spell
And thoughts of spring in languid minds compile.
On peaceful mornings, bird song finds its voice
As snow begins to melt as if by choice
It knows it's time is done as Spring is near
When daffodils in bloom restart the year.
The viridian blades in breezes bend
To dance with gilded maids in vernal days
These images of Spring enchanting eyes to gaze.
And dreams now follow where the dillies wend
Where candles flicker with merriment and mirth
To Mother Nature's triumphant rebirth.
I hated you twice: that second hate has yet
To lie down a much longer within my heart;
Sure it will bother you not for awhile,
For I’ve wished to give you all the sorrow.
I hated you so much; you without a hope
To calm my anger or ease the pain you caused.
I hated you to the end of the ocean
And pray God grants you not to be hated that way again.
--
Inspired by TD’s RSVP Poetry Contest.
In response to A. S. Pushkin’s poem "Ya vas lyubil" (I loved you once).
Author's Note: Oh, it's not Alexander I hated...
...and no one is hurt nor injured, except my fingers
typing this poem...lol!
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