A Winter Evening

By Alexander Pushkin

Translated By Martha Dickinson Bianchi

Sable clouds by tempest driven, Snowflakes whirling in the gales, Hark—it sounds like grim wolves howling, Hark—now like a child it wails! Creeping through the rustling straw thatch, Rattling on the mortared walls, Like some weary wanderer knocking— On the lowly pane it falls. Fearsome darkness fills the kitchen, Drear and lonely our retreat, Speak a word and break the silence, Dearest little Mother, sweet! Has the moaning of the tempest Closed thine eyelids wearily? Has the spinning wheel’s soft whirring Hummed a cradle song to thee? Sweetheart of my youthful Springtime, Thou true-souled companion dear— Let us drink! Away with sadness! Wine will fill our hearts with cheer. Sing the song how free and careless Birds live in a distant land— Sing the song of maids at morning Meeting by the brook’s clear strand! Sable clouds by tempest driven, Snowflakes whirling in the gales, Hark—it sounds like grim wolves howling, Hark—now like a child it wails! Sweetheart of my youthful Springtime, Thou true-souled companion dear, Let us drink! Away with sadness! Wine will fill our hearts with cheer!

Dear Black Child - Grace Storm Ad

Dear Black Child - Grace Storm Ad
Dear Black Child - Grace Storm Ad