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« The Farewell | Main | The Portrait of Mr. W. H. »

Blok, "Они говорили о ранней весне"

A work ("Of early spring they came to speak") by this Russian poet.  You can read the original here.

Of early spring they came to speak, 
Of snows both blue and white; 
And there a star burned at its peak, 
Twin lives in dreamful night.

With dim recall of this past day,
They welcomed sleep-filled gloom;
Yet sensed cold steps of temple's clay,
Where golden spires loom'd.

Perse distance of a fairy tale;
A first light just as blithe.  
A silent dawn 'til saddest wail   
Embraced the last reply.  

Severe the day began, august;
Her eyes sought heaven's face;
Death's raiments cold in gilded rust, 
Just like these gloom-strewn gates.  

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