Pskov churches and monasteries

A. Pushkin, Anna Achmatova, poetry from Russia, civilian houses, merchant chambers On the snow - fire


Now the flames are soaring over
Him that has been crucified.
Nights drift by across the heavens,
Past all caring, snowy - eyed.

Young nights pass like sisters, spinning
Winters out of fleecy snow,
And they look with eyes wide open,
Stir up white smoke down below.

And with eyes winged as for flying
Tenderly the height looks down.
Flicker, gentle flame, dart nearer
To the cross and wrap it round.

In your snow - mask, gentle knight,
In your snow - mask you must burn!
Have I not made music sweet,
Loved and kissed to your delight
From the dusk until the dawn?

Be you then my true - love also,
Gentle knight, I`m fair to see.
Gentle knight, with my pure snow - blood
I have proved fidelity.

For three nights I was your true - love,
Coiling, calling tenderly;

Let you look into my eyes,
Gave you wings that you might fly.
Burn, then, radiant and shining,
And with light and gentle hand
I shall scatter your light ashes
All across this snowy land.

1907. Alexander Blok.


Pskov churches and monasteries Olga Bergholts




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