亚历山大·谢尔盖耶维奇·普希金

在这里你会发现长诗冬天的来临诗人亚历山大·谢尔盖耶维奇·普希金

冬天的来临

我们北方的冬天变幻无常的夏天,比南方的冬天难得更平淡——不可否认,它正在从大地上匆匆退去。秋天很快就会使天空暗淡下来,阳光变得更加稀少——一天比一天短,森林的树叶在一种沉重的空洞声中落下了它的影子;田野上白色的薄雾笼罩着,成群的大雁现在飞向温暖的南方;乏味的季节临近,门前十一月沉闷!清晨从颤抖的雾中升起,田野的喧嚣消失了,狼走在公路上,饿得狼嚎哀鸣;旅人的小马闻着他的气味,哼着鼻息——细心的流浪者气喘吁吁,急匆匆地越过高山!虽然白天不再从牛栏里出来,但牛群开始驱赶母牛,——他的正午号角回忆道。农家少女唱着歌,旋转着,在她那噼啪作响,燃烧着的明亮的松片前,——冬夜的朋友。看看!寒冷的白霜闪闪发光,把银光洒在田野上,唉! the golden days are vanished! Reluctant Nature mournful yields. The stream with ice all frozen over Gleams as some fashionable parquet, And thronging hordes of boyish skaters Sweep forward on its crystal way. On her red claws despondent swimming, The plump goose parts the water cold, Then on the ice with caution stalking She slips and tumbles,--ah behold! Now the first snowflake idling down Stars the depressing landscape brown. At such a season in the country, What can a man's amusements be? Walk? And but more of empty highway And of deserted village see? Or let him through the far Steppes gallop, His horse can scarcely stand at all-- His stamping hoofs in vain seek foothold, The rider dreading lest he fall! So then remain within thy paling, Read thou in Pradt or Walter Scott, Compare thy varying editions, Drink, and thy scoffing mood spare not! As the long evenings drag away So doth the Winter too delay. FROM 'ONEGIN' Sometimes he read aloud with Olga A latter day romance discreet, Whose author truly painted nature, With cunning plot, insight complete; Oft he passed over a few pages, Too bald or tasteless in their art-- And coloring, began on further, Not to disturb the maiden heart. Again, they sat for hours together, With but a chess board to divide; She with her arms propped on the table, Deep pondering, puzzled to decide-- Till Lenski from his inward storm Captured her castle with his pawn! FROM 'ONEGIN' Love condescends to every altar, Ah when in hearts of youth it springs, Its coming brings such glad refreshment As May rain o'er the pasture flings! Lifted from passion's melancholy The life breaks forth in fairer flower, The soul receives a new enrichment-- Fruition sweet and full of power. But when on later altars arid It downward sweeps, about us flows-- Love leaves behind such deathly traces As Autumn tempests where it blows To strip the woods with ruthless hand, And turn to soggy waste the land! FROM 'ONEGIN' How sad to me is thine appearing, O Springtime, hour of love's unrest! Within the soul what nameless languors! What passions hid within the breast! With what a heavy, heavy spirit From the earth's rustic lap I feel Again the joy of Springtide odors-- That once could make my spirit reel! No more for me such pleasures thrilling, All that rejoices, that has life, All that exults,--brings but despondence To one past passion as past strife, All is but prose to such as he, Wearied unto satiety. Perchance we fain would pass unnoticed That which in Autumn drooped and pined, Now radiant in verdure springing, Since it must of our loss remind; As with a tortured soul we realize In Nature's glad awakening, That we shall never find renewal, Who evermore are withering. Perchance there haunts us in remembrance, Our own most dear and lyric dream, Another long forgotten Springtime-- And trembling neath this pang supreme, The heart faints for a distant country And for a night beside the sea!