Blessed Is The Time Of Summer! Poem by Liza Sud
Blessed Is The Time Of Summer!
Blessed is the time of summer!
Outside my windows - noise:
Metro is built and the century's spire,
White nights - you can't drop off.
Every day, we must live as a holiday,
as if we die tomorrow,
Miracle shouts the way to go
back is like blessed thrill - probable.
Inside: Israel and America.
Outside: Russia, rain.
Pushkin's tales, the Jewish songs are playing,
that's my eternal age!
**
Блаженное время лета!
за окном у меня галдеж -
строка метро - и шпиль века,
Белая ночь - не уснешь.
Каждый день надо жить как праздник,
будто завтра умрешь,
чудо кричит: что путь обратно
возможен, как счастья дрожь.
Внутри: Америка и Израиль,
снаружи: Россия, дождь.
Пушкин, еврейские песни играют,
так в вечности ты живешь!
Wonderful expression of a simple natural incident, poetically, in rhythm. I enjoy your style.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/8/2024 5:10:35 AM # 1.0.0.1119
BLESSED is the right word because it shows these delights of summer are a gift outright that we ought to appreciate and expand. To put this idea in common language, God made summer for us and thereby gave us a task to fulfill and a pleasure to experience. The American poet e.e. cummings opened one of his spring poems with the line: We thank you, God, for this glorious day. Your vocabulary illustrates how divine favor enhances the experience: holiday (from holy day) , miracle, blessed thrill, even white nights. I sense another theme: we humans accept this gift in joy and that joy is our participation in the creative priocess. If we did not exist, animals and angels would have to play that role, but we humans are the ideal players! !