Poetry Archives Bio
October 21, 2016
11:01 AM
And with each autumn I but bloom anew...

This is my translation of an excerpt from «Осень» by Александр Пушкин [Alexandr Pushkin].

To Rod Moody-Corbett

VIII

And with each autumn I but bloom anew;
Salubrity of mine enjoys the Russian briskness;
For habits' habitude again I love accrue;
In turn flies off the sleep, in turn comes on my sickness;
With ease and happiness my heart its contents brews,
Desires seethe and boil—again I'm joyful swiftness,
Again I'm full of life—such is my organism
(Do kindly me forgive unneeded prosaism).