Winter Night

The Winter Night

By Alexander Pushkin, 1825


Howls the blizzard – whining, whizzing,
Snowing under land and sky,
First, a roar your soul a-freezing,
Then, a childish begging cry…
Now, it walks across the shabby
Rooftop – rustling straw and heart,
Then it knocks – a farer shaggy –
On your window in the dark.

Creaks our cabin – old and shaky,
Fills the night with murk and gloom,
Why are you, My Sweet Old Lady,
Dozing quietly? Maybe looms
Much too loud the snowstorm – strumming,
Wearing by it howling dance,
Or, you’re napping to the humming
Of your nimble spindling hands…

Dear Old Lass, let’s drink and bury
Sorrows, Friend of poor young days,
Pass the mug, let’s drown the worries,
Bring the heart its merry ways.
Sing me ballads of a haven,
Where the blue jay smiles and dings,
Sing me legends of a maiden,
Greeting sunrise by a spring.

Howls the blizzard – whining, whizzing,
Snowing under land and sky,
First, a roar – your soul a-freezing,
Then – a childish begging cry…
Dear Old Lass, let’s drink and bury
Sorrows. Friend of poor young days,
Pass the mug, let’s drown the worries,
Bring the heart its merry ways.