A Winter Evening

A Winter Evening

By Alexander Pushkin

 

translated by Martha Dickinson Bianchi

 

Sable clouds by tempest driven,

Snowflakes whirling in the gales,

Hark—it sounds like grim wolves howling,

Hark—now like a child it wails!

Creeping through the rustling straw thatch,

Rattling on the mortared walls,

Like some weary wanderer knocking—

On the lowly pane it falls.

 

Fearsome darkness fills the kitchen,

Drear and lonely our retreat,

Speak a word and break the silence,

Dearest little Mother, sweet!

Has the moaning of the tempest

Closed thine eyelids wearily?

Has the spinning wheel’s soft whirring

Hummed a cradle song to thee?

 

Sweetheart of my youthful Springtime,

Thou true-souled companion dear—

Let us drink! Away with sadness!

Wine will fill our hearts with cheer.

Sing the song how free and careless

Birds live in a distant land—

Sing the song of maids at morning

Meeting by the brook’s clear strand!

 

Sable clouds by tempest driven,

Snowflakes whirling in the gales,

Hark—it sounds like grim wolves howling,

Hark—now like a child it wails!

Sweetheart of my youthful Springtime,

Thou true-souled companion dear,

Let us drink! Away with sadness!

Wine will fill our hearts with cheer!

 

 ————-

 

ЗИМНИЙ ВЕЧЕР 

 

Буря мглою небо кроет,

Вихри снежные крутя:

То, как зверь, она завоет,

То заплачет, как дитя,

То по кровле обветшалой

Вдруг соломой зашумит,

То, как путник запоздалый,

К нам в окошко застучит.

 

Наша ветхая лачужка

И печальна и темна.—

Что же ты, моя старушка,

Приумолкла у окна?

Или бури завываньем

Ты, мой друг, утомлена,

Или дремлешь под жужжаньем

Своего веретена?

 

Выпьем, добрая подружка

Бедной юности моей,

Выпьем с горя; где же кружка?

Сердцу будет веселей.

Спой мне песню, как синица

Тихо за морем жила;

Спой мне песню, как девица

За водой поутру шла.

Буря мглою небо кроет,

Вихри снежные крутя:

То, как зверь, она завоет,

То заплачет, как дитя.

Выпьем, добрая подружка

Бедной юности моей,

Выпьем с горя; где же кружка?

Сердцу будет веселей.

About the Poet

 

Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin (Александр Сергеевич Пушкин) was born on June  6 [O.S. May26] 1799 and died on  February 10 [O.S. January 29] 1837) was a Russian poet, playwright, and novelist of the Romantic era. He is considered by many to be the greatest Russian poet and the founder of modern Russian literature.

 

Pushkin was born into the Russian nobility in Moscow. His father, Sergey Lvovich Pushkin, belonged to an old noble family. His maternal great-grandfather was Major-General Abram Petrovich Gannibal, a nobleman of African origin who was kidnapped from his homeland and raised in the Emperor's court household as his godson. 

 

He published his first poem at the age of 15, and was widely recognized by the literary establishment by the time of his graduation from the Tsarskoye Selo Lyceum. Upon graduation from the Lycée, Pushkin recited his controversial poem "Ode to Liberty", one of several that led to his exile by Emperor Alexander I. While under the strict surveillance of the Emperor's political police and unable to publish, Pushkin wrote his most famous play, Boris Godunov. His novel in verse, Eugene Onegin, was serialized between 1825 and 1832. Pushkin was fatally wounded in a duel with his wife's alleged lover and her sister's husband, Georges-Charles de Heeckeren d'Anthès, also known as Dantes-Gekkern, a French officer serving with the Chevalier Guard Regiment.