Black Russian - Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin - The True Father of Moden Russian Literature

[hudsonliberty]

1799-1837

Born a descendant of ancient noble family and a captive Abyssinian who became a general. Aleksandr Pushkin is, by common agreement -- at least among his own compatriots -- the greatest of all Russian writers. The major part of his lyrical poetry was written between 1820 and 1830, but some of his poetical masterpieces were composed in the last seven years of his life, when he was turning his attention to prose. A development can be traced from the sparkling ebullience of his early verse -- the crowning achievement of which is the first chapter of Evgeny Onegin, written in 1823 -- to the concentrated expressiveness and restrained power of his later poetry. By effecting a new synthesis between the three main ingredients of the Russian literary idiom -- the Church Slovanic, the Western European borrowings, and the spoken vernacular -- Pushkin created the language of modern Russian poetry. His personal life was made difficult by his conflicts with the authorities who disapproved of his liberal views. He was killed in a duel.

Here are a few poems by the great Black Russian

The Prophet


Tormented by a spiritual thirst,
I stumbled through a gloomy waste,
And there a six-winged seraph
Appeared before me at the crossroad.
With touch as light as slumber,
He laid his fingers on my eyes,
Which opened wide in prophecy
Just as a startled eagle's might.
Upon my ears his touch then fell,
And they were filled with noise and clangs:
I heard the heavens shift on high,
The whispering of angels' wings,
Sea monsters moving in the deep,
The growing grapevines in the vales.
And then he bent down towards my mouth,
My sinful tongue he ripped right out-
Its slander and its idle lies-
And with his bloody hand inserted
Between my still and lifeless lips
A cunning serpent's forked tongue.
And with his sword he cleaved my breast
Removed my shaking heart,
And then he seized a blazing coal,
And placed it in my gaping breast.
Corpse-like I lay upon the sand
And then God's voice called out to me:
"Arise, O Prophet, watch and hark,
Fulfill all my commands:
Go forth now over land and sea,
And with your word ignite men's hearts.


I Loved You Once

I loved you once: perhaps that love has yet
To die down thoroughly within my soul;
But let it not dismay you any longer;
I have no wish to cause you any sorrow.
I loved you wordlessly, without a hope,
By shyness tortured, or by jealousy.
I loved you with such tenderness and candor
And pray God grants you to be loved that way again.


Little Bird

In a foreign land I faithfully observe
A native rite of olden times:
I liberate a little bird
During the shining fete of spring.

My heart is filled with consolation,
How can I grumble at God's will
If to but one of his creations
I can bestow sweet liberty!

[Usiku]

I love this type of art and poetry of passion, love, gratitude and discovery.

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