Fyodor Tyutchev
- Longing, desires still ravage..., by Frank Jude
Fëdor Tjutčev (italiano)
- Ancora mi struggo per l’angoscia dei desideri..., Eridano Bazzarelli
«This gives sense to our human life of pain / In the course of its unmitigated plight. / The sickle cuts the heavy ears of grain, / Just as it cuts the snared swan by the throat. Far back we learned how at break of day / Through the August fields the chill creeps. / Among the scattered she...»
«To the Prophet Jeremiah 1 I’m not scared of hell, / Nor the rain of spears and arrows, — / I read but one book of the Bible, / The Prophet Esenin, Sergei’s. When my time draws nigh, / I fear no cracking whips. / The body, Christ’s body, / Dribbles spit from its lips. I don’...»
«Farewell, old chap, farewell. / You are lodged in my breast, my dear. / The parting foretold and fateful / Bodes a meeting yet to appear. Old chap, no hand, no word, / On your brow, no gloom, no grief, — / In this life, nothing new, to have died, / But of course, nothing new, to live.»
«Night raises its shroud — / And the waves murmur, as foes. / I hear, daughter of Lordly Abysses, / Your immortal steps!.. Departed! Is it not how all of you / Step across the threshold / Of atrocious elements? And, as lions, / They lie at your feet — And lick your elongated shroud...»