Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev
Home - Poem by Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev
The merciless fire devoured
The house of my childhood games.
I needed to overcome sorrow,
And sailed on the golden-mast boat.
I played on my beautiful flute to
The high rising moon in the sky.
The moon, by my singing, got saddened,
And covered herself with a cloud.
Then I turned my eyes to the mountain,
But had no more songs on my mind.
It seemed : all the joys of my childhood
Were burned in the flames of my home.
I wished in despair for the refuge
That water could offer to me.
A sudden reflection of a woman
Slid by like the one of the moon.
And should she sincerely desire
And should the moon kindly approve
I’m willing to build a new house
In th’ woman’s mysterious heart.
Comments about Home by Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.