“You throw your head back because you're a proud liar. What a fun companion brought me this February “MARINA TSVETAEVA” YOU THROW YOUR HEAD BACK…” Log in to Reply
I associate February with Alexander Pushkin's poem “Winter Evening”. The storm covers the sky with mist, Snow whirling vortices; Then, like a beast, it will howl, Then she'll cry like a baby, Then on the roof dilapidated Suddenly the straw will rustle, The belated wayfarer, There will be a knock on our window. Our ramshackle shack Both sad and dark. What about you, my old lady, Paused by the window? Or storms howling You, my friend, are tired, Or do you take a nap under the buzz Your spindle? Let's have a drink, my good friend My poor youth, Let's drink from grief; where's the mug? Your heart will be happier. Sing me a song like a chickadee I lived quietly across the sea; Sing me a song like a damsel I went to get water in the morning. The storm covers the sky with mist, Snow whirling vortices; Then, like a beast, it will howl, Then she'll cry like a baby. Let's have a drink, my good friend My poor youth, Let's drink with grief: where is the mug? Your heart will be happier. Log in to Reply
“You throw your head back because you're a proud liar. What a fun companion brought me this February “MARINA TSVETAEVA” YOU THROW YOUR HEAD BACK…”
I associate February with Alexander Pushkin's poem “Winter Evening”.
The storm covers the sky with mist,
Snow whirling vortices;
Then, like a beast, it will howl,
Then she'll cry like a baby,
Then on the roof dilapidated
Suddenly the straw will rustle,
The belated wayfarer,
There will be a knock on our window.
Our ramshackle shack
Both sad and dark.
What about you, my old lady,
Paused by the window?
Or storms howling
You, my friend, are tired,
Or do you take a nap under the buzz
Your spindle?
Let's have a drink, my good friend
My poor youth,
Let's drink from grief; where's the mug?
Your heart will be happier.
Sing me a song like a chickadee
I lived quietly across the sea;
Sing me a song like a damsel
I went to get water in the morning.
The storm covers the sky with mist,
Snow whirling vortices;
Then, like a beast, it will howl,
Then she'll cry like a baby.
Let's have a drink, my good friend
My poor youth,
Let's drink with grief: where is the mug?
Your heart will be happier.