The Angel Poem by Mikhail Yuryevich Lermontov
The Angel
At midnight an angel was crossing the sky,
And quietly he sang;
The moon and the stars and the concourse of clouds
Paid heed to his heavenly song.
He sang of the bliss of the innocent souls
In heavenly gardens above;
Of almighty God he sang out, and his praise
Was pure and sincere.
He bore in his arms a young soul
To our valley of sorrow and tears;
The young soul remembered the heavenly song
So vivid and yet without words.
And long did it struggle on earth,
With wondrous desire imbued;
But none of the tedious songs of our earth
Could rival celestial song.
For the first half of the poem it is only an angel flying above the world that we see. The angel is midway between heaven which is perfect blissand earth which is vexed struggle. It is not infected with that disease of our emotional and psychical lives, namely, dissatisfaction. It is in the middle of the poem the human presence is revealed. A typically rebellious and ornery human confronts the world the gods or GOD has made possible. But this is not anangel of rescue bringing a human to heaven, glory and peace. The angel is rather delivering the human to the sublunar world of imperfection, change and, in a word, evil. And during his troubled life on earth he remembers the angel's song of paradise. He knows it's there somewhere but is completely cut off from it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/16/2024 4:51:10 PM # 1.0.0.1119
At midnight an angel was crossing the sky, And quietly he sang; The moon and the stars and the concourse of clouds Paid heed to his heavenly song.