Sergey Alexandrovich Yesenin

Sergey Alexandrovich Yesenin Poems

No sorrow, no calls, no tears.
Now it's gone, white foam from apple-tree.
Faded, seized by tarnished golden flares,
I will not feel youthful. Never me.
...

I'll no more go roaming, no more seeking,
No more crushing goosefoot in the wood.
With those oatsheaf locks you tossed when speaking
...

I've quit my father's home
And left blue Russ. With three
Bright stars the birch-tree grove
Consoles my mother's grief.
...

Ìíå îñòàëàñü îäíà çàáàâà:
Ïàëüöû â ðîò - è âåñ¸ëûé ñâèñò.
Ïðîêàòèëàñü äóðíàÿ ñëàâà,
...

So it happened and please don't swear.
I'm a not a word dealer now.
My poor head - it's too hard to bear
And bent-down is my golden brow.
...

Cleared the cornfield, bare the boughs are,
From still waters mist is rolling,
Like a wheel beyond the mountains
Has the silent sun gone rolling.
...

Sergey Alexandrovich Yesenin Biography

Sergei Alexandrovich Yesenin ( 1895 – 1925) was a Russian lyrical poet. He was one of the most popular and well-known Russian poets of the 20th century. In 1916, Yesenin published his first book of poems, Ritual for the Dead (Radunitsa, Russian: Радуница). Through his collections of poignant poetry about love and the simple life, he became one of the most popular poets of the day. His first marriage was in 1913 to Anna Izryadnova, a co-worker from the publishing house, with whom he had a son, Yuri. Later that year, he moved to St Petersburg, where he met Klyuev. For the next two years, they were close friends, living together most of the time. Some modern researchers suppose that Klyev was the addressee of Yesenin's love letters. From 1916 to 1917, Yesenin was drafted into military duty, but soon after the October Revolution of 1917, Russia exited World War I. Believing that the revolution would bring a better life, Yesenin briefly supported it, but soon became disillusioned and sometimes criticized the Bolshevik rule in such poems as The Stern October Has Deceived Me. In August 1917 Yesenin married for a second time to an actress, Zinaida Raikh (later wife of Vsevolod Meyerhold). They had two children, a daughter Tatyana and a son Konstantin. Konstantin Yesenin would become a well-known soccer statistician. In September 1918, Yesenin founded his own publishing house called Labor Company of Artists of Word") In the fall of 1921, while visiting the studio of painter Ghyorghi Yakulov, Yesenin met the Paris-based American dancer Isadora Duncan, a woman 18 years his senior who knew only a dozen words in Russian. He spoke no foreign languages. They married on May 2, 1922. Yesenin accompanied his celebrity wife on a tour of Europe and the United States but at this point in his life, an addiction to alcohol had gotten out of control. Often drunk, Yesenin had violent rages in which he destroyed hotel rooms and caused disturbances in restaurants. This behavior received a great deal of publicity in the international press. [citation needed] His marriage to Duncan was brief and in May 1923, he returned to Moscow. He almost immediately became involved with actress Augusta Miklashevskaya. He is rumoured to have married her in a civil ceremony, although he had not obtained a divorce from Duncan. The same year he had a son by the poet Nadezhda Volpin. Sergei Yesenin never knew his son by Volpin, but Alexander Esenin-Volpin grew up to become a prominent poet. He was also an activist in the Soviet Union's dissident movement of the 1960s with Andrei Sakharov and others. After moving to the United States, Esenin-Volpin became a prominent mathematician.)

The Best Poem Of Sergey Alexandrovich Yesenin

No Sorrow, No Calls, No Tears...(Translated From Russian)

No sorrow, no calls, no tears.
Now it's gone, white foam from apple-tree.
Faded, seized by tarnished golden flares,
I will not feel youthful. Never me.

Now you slow down, that's the matter,
You, my heart, that suffered a cold jet.
And the land of calico birch pattern
Hardly tempts my feet to walk o'er that.

Hobo spirit! You're so rare, rare,
Waking flame in mouth. It's now tense.
Oh, my freshness, that I couldn't spare.
Brawling eyes and overflowing sence!

I've become too greedy for desires.
Life of mine? Perhaps, it was a dream?
Me, alone, in early vernal hours
Riding a pink horse, as it cood seem.

We are mortal. In this world none's ever.
Copper leaves are floating. Let them fly.
Be you blest, you beautiful forever
That has come to blossom and to die.


Íå æàëåþ, íå çîâó, íå ïëà÷ó,
Âñå ïðîéä¸ò, êàê ñ áåëûõ ÿáëîíü äûì.
Óâÿäàíüÿ çîëîòîì îõâà÷åííûé,
ß íå áóäó áîëüøå ìîëîäûì.

Òû òåïåðü íå òàê óæ áóäåøü áèòüñÿ,
Ñåðäöå, òðîíóòîå õîëîäêîì,
È ñòðàíà áåð¸çîâîãî ñèòöà
Íå çàìàíèò øëÿòüñÿ áîñèêîì.

Äóõ áðîäÿæèé! òû âñå ðåæå, ðåæå
Ðàñøåâåëèâàåøü ïëàìåíü óñò.
Î, ìîÿ óòðà÷åííàÿ ñâåæåñòü,
Áóéñòâî ãëàç è ïîëîâîäüå ÷óâñòâ!

ß òåïåðü ñêóïåå ñòàë â æåëàíüÿõ,
Æèçíü ìîÿ, èëü òû ïðèñíèëàñü ìíå?
Ñëîâíî ÿ âåñåííåé ãóëêîé ðàíüþ
Ïðîñêàêàë íà ðîçîâîì êîíå.

Âñå ìû, âñå ìû â ýòîì ìèðå òëåííû,
Òèõî ëüåòñÿ ñ êë¸íîâ ëèñòüåâ ìåäü…
Áóäü æå òû âîâåê áëàãîñëîâåííî,
×òî ïðèøëî ïðîöâåñòü è óìåðåòü.

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