Lyudmila Purgina

Freshman - 678 Points (Russian Federation)

A.Pushkin, Again I Visited... - Translation (Rus) - Poem by Lyudmila Purgina

...Again I visited a place,
This corner of the earth, where I was exiled
For two years long,
Which passed so imperceptibly.
Ten years
Had passed since that time- many
Things have changed for me...Obedient to law,
I've been changed also-
But today
I'm here with my feelings old.
It seems, that only last evening I was going
Through silent groves.And here is that
The house of my solitude perfect,
Where I lived with my old nanny.
She's gone already - and her heavy steps
I couldn't help find behind the house wall.
I'm alone.
Here is the wooden place, where I used sitting
All the day without motion, and frequently was looking at a lake,
And of the other shores and waves was sadly thinking...
Between the golden fields and green crops the lake is stretched,
Such blue and wide. A poor fisher
Is pulling net after his boat. There
On the flat banks there are the villages scattered
With a crooked mill, which is hardly turning over its wings
under the wind...
On the board of Grandfather's lands, on the place,
Where the road rises uphill, all pitted by the rains,
The three pine-trees are staying,
One - is aside, the other two are close
To each other, - here,
When I used riding my horse in the moonlight,
I've heard the familiar noise of their tops. Along this road
I've ride again, and seen again them.
They are the same. With similar such rustle to my ear -
But now I've noticed a young grove
Underneath their tired roots
(Where before was so deserted and empty) .

The young green family, the bushes are restricted
Under the canopy of trees as children. And afar
Is staying one alone their friend, as a bachelor,
And there are just as before - so empty.
Hi, the new tribe, the young, unknown! Not I
Will see your mature mighty ages,
When you overgrow my familiars,
And their old heads cover at all
From passer-by. But let my grandson
Will hear your welcome noise, while on return
From friendly conversation, filled with joy
And nice such thoughts,
And he will pass you by in darkness of the night
And will remember me his time.


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Poem Submitted: Saturday, April 21, 2012



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