Poems Found In Translation: “Tyutchev: The Sacred Night (From Russian)” |
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Posted: 06 May 2014 03:47 PM PDT
The Sacred Night
By Fyodor Tyutchev
Translated by A.Z. Foreman
Click here to hear me recite the poem in Russian
The sacred night has scaled the sky and rolled
The day of cheer, the day of graciousness
Up and away like a great golden shroud:
A shroud, spread over an abyss.
The outer world is over like a vision,
As Man, a homeless orphan, takes his place
In naked helplessness to stand alone
Before the big black of unfathomed space.
He is abandoned to his very self.
His mind is orphaned, thought is nullified.
He plummets through the fissure of his soul
With no support or limit from outside.
As all things of the living and the light
Seem but a dream to him, a dream long past,
In the unsolved, the strange, the very night,
He feels a fateful heritage at last.
By Fyodor Tyutchev
Translated by A.Z. Foreman
Click here to hear me recite the poem in Russian
The sacred night has scaled the sky and rolled
The day of cheer, the day of graciousness
Up and away like a great golden shroud:
A shroud, spread over an abyss.
The outer world is over like a vision,
As Man, a homeless orphan, takes his place
In naked helplessness to stand alone
Before the big black of unfathomed space.
He is abandoned to his very self.
His mind is orphaned, thought is nullified.
He plummets through the fissure of his soul
With no support or limit from outside.
As all things of the living and the light
Seem but a dream to him, a dream long past,
In the unsolved, the strange, the very night,
He feels a fateful heritage at last.
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