Various Clothing. From Balmont Poem by Liza Sud
Various Clothing. From Balmont
On our body, on our body
Clothes are different - one is black,
Then it's grayer, and then it's scarlet -
more red, more pallid, pale as snow white.
We will not hesitate in black clothes,
We 'll put away our gray blind cover,
with a red ribbon with the one patterned,
We'll show the freshness of snow's light.
We'll be in vortices, in the highlights,
We'll be more light at night than at day,
In dressed in snow and glorified bodies
Live happiness will burn like a flame.
***
Одежды разны
На теле нашем, на нашем теле
Одежды разны — одна черна,
Потом серее, потом зардели —
Красней, бледнее, как снег бледна.
Не будем медлить в одежде черной,
И сбросим серый слепой покров,
И с красной лентой, с одной узорной,
Мы явим свежесть и свет снегов.
И будем в вихрях, и будем в светах,
И будем ночью светлей, чем днем,
В телах воспетых и в снег одетых
Живое счастье горит огнем.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/29/2026 12:47:10 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
Balmont describes the many clothes which cover the body over time, none lasts, all are replaced, whatever we put on we will surely take off. That is an everyday reality of mortal life. I think the poem focuses on the transience of so many aspects of human life using VARIOUS CLOTHING as a symbol of that brevity of appearances. But in the last stanza he refers to GLORIFIED BODIES, that is, after the Resurrection of the Flesh, when body and soul are restored in eternal unity and transience itself vanishes. Many religions see death as a release of the spirit from the flesh. Hindus and Buddhists burn the corpse to release the spirit through fire. Christians cannot destroy the corpse because of this future Resurrection of the Flesh, so they bury the body. But cremation has become fashionable in the US despite that Christian prohibition. My Mother was so distressed that my sister and I were going to cremate her - thus violating Church principles. No matter how we reassured her, she still was fearful. I don't know why she had to suffer these fears at the end of her life as a believer. I told her once an Angel would whisper in her sleep, FEAR NOT, BERNADINE. YOUR CHILDREN WILL BURY YOU WITH LOVE. But she continued to worry until her mind could not longer conceive thoughts of any kind.