Черная весна Hald Sø og Nina Pozdniakova-hilsen dertil (FB)

Nina Pozdniakova

 

......... Beneath - the earth is black in puddles,
The wind with croaking screeches throbs,
And-the more randomly, the surer
Poems are forming out of sobs. (Black spring.Boris Pasternak)

Черная весна

Nina sendte mig herefter det fulde digt:

Nina Pozdniakova This is my favorite poem of Pasternak
Unfortunately I can not evaluate how it sounds in English
Here is the full text:                                                                                                                                   

 

Black spring! Pick up your pen, and weeping,
Of February, in sobs and ink,
Write poems, while the slush in thunder
Is burning in the black of spring.

Through clanking wheels, through church bells ringing
A hired cab will take you where
The town has ended, where the showers
Are louder still than ink and tears.

Where rooks, like charred pears, from the branches
In thousands break away, and sweep
Into the melting snow, instilling
Dry sadness into eyes that weep.

Beneath - the earth is black in puddles,
The wind with croaking screeches throbs,
And-the more randomly, the surer
Poems are forming out of sobs.

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