The Bard
Vasily Andreyevich Zhukovsky 1783 (village of Mishenskoe) – 1852
My friends, can you descry that mound of earth
Above clear waters in the shade of trees?
You can just hear the babbling spring against the bank;
You can just feel a breeze that's wafting in the leaves;
A wreath and lyre hang upon the boughs...
Alas, my friends! This mound's a grave;
Here earth conceals the ashes of a bard;
Poor bard!
A gentle soul, a simple heart
He was a sojourner in the world;
He'd barely bloomed, yet lost his taste for life
He craved his end with yearning and excitement;
And early on he met his end,
He found the grave's desired sleep.
Your time was but a moment - a moment sad
Poor bard!
He sang with tenderness of friendship to his friend, -
His loyal friend cut down in his life's bloom;
He sang of love - but in a doleful voice;
Alas! Of love he knew naught but its woe;
Now all has met with its demise,
Your soul partakes of peace eternal;
You slumber in your silent grave,
Poor bard!
Here, by this stream one eventide
He sang his doleful farewell song:
'O lovely world, where blossomed I in vain;
Farewell forever; with a soul deceived
For happiness I waited - but my dreams have died;
All's perished; lyre, be still;
To your serene abode, o haste,
Poor bard!
What's life, when charm is lacking?
To know of bliss, with all the spirit's striving,
Only to see oneself cut off by an abyss;
Each moment to desire and yet fear desiring...
O refuge of vexatious hearts,
O grave, sure path to peace,
When will you call to your embrace
The poor bard?'
The bard's no more ... his lyre's silent...
All trace of him has disappeared from here;
The hills and valleys mourn;
And all is still ... save zephyrs soft,
That stir the faded wreath,
And waft betimes above the grave,
A woeful lyre responds:
Poor bard!
Певе 94;
В тени дерев, над чистыми водами
044;ерновы 081; холм вы видите ль, друзья?
1063;уть слышно там плескае т в брег струя;
Ч 1091;ть ветерок там дышит меж листами ;
На ветвях лира и венец...
У вы! друзья, сей холм - могила;
1047;десь прах певца земля сокрыла ;
Бедный певец!
i 4;н сердцем прост, он нежен был душою
Н 086; в мире он минутны й странни к был;
Едв 1072; расцвел - и жизнь уж разлюби л
И ждал конца с волнень ем и тоскою;
1048; рано встрети л он конец,
З 1072;снул желанны м сном могилы...
Твой век был миг, но миг унылый,
1041;едный певец!
i 4;н друk
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 14, 2023
- 3:42 min read
- 85 Views
Quick analysis:
Scheme | xxxxxabB xxxcdxxB dxxxxxaB bxxxxxxB eexexxxb cxxxxaxB fff f ffF fF f f |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic trimeter |
Characters | 4,550 |
Words | 731 |
Stanzas | 9 |
Stanza Lengths | 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 1 |
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"The Bard" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 25 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/37463/the-bard>.
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