Fyodor Tyutchev
- Infected Air, by Frank Jude
(I love God’s wrath, this Evil!..)
Fiódor Tiútchev (español)
- Mal`aria, María Francisca de Castro Gil
(¡Amo esta cólera de Dios, el mal...)
«Both this street and this little house / Have been long so familiar to me. / Up the window the blue straws of wires / Are weighed down as they once used to be. / / There've been years of austere contingency / Years of vehement endeavours, too. / I remember my village, my infancy / ...»
«I have left my endeared home, / Getting out of my Russia of blue. / Little grove by the pond will warm / My old mother's sorrow anew. / / Like a golden croaker the moon / Lies prostrate on the water tranquil. / Grizzly hair, like apple-tree bloom, / In my father's beard will spill...»
«Don't you force a smile, girl, tensely, like you do, / The one I"m in love with isn't really you. / / I suppose you know it, and you know it well, / I"m not here to see you but another girl. / / I was passing by, and, well, I didn't care, — / I saw you and wanted just to stop and...»
«Trinity devotions. Morning cannon rite, / Birch-trees in the grove are filled with ringing light. / / Villagers are coming after festive sleep, / In the chimes of wind the heady spring will steep. / / There are bands and branches on the window panes. / I will cry with flowers over g...»