Poems by Pushkin

Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin

Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin

The 6th of June is the anniversary of Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin’s birth (June 6, 1799)
On the 6th of June Russia and the rest of the world also celebrate the Russian Language Day.

About 299 million people consider the Russian language their mother tongue. Pushkin is the most celebrated Russian poet and the father of the modern Russian language. His fame penetrates the farthest corners of the world. He is a true inspiration for many talented poets of today. He taught that literature anticipates life, does not follow or imitate it. Pushkin himself was a true champion of the game of life. At the same time he lived by the watch-words “frugality, moderation, hard work”. What he thought of life he depicted in his poem “(Из Пиндемонти) “which you can read below.

(Из Пиндемонти)

Не дорого ценю я громкие права,

От коих не одна кружится голова.

Я не ропщу о том, что отказали боги

Мне в сладкой участи оспоривать налоги

Или мешать царям друг с другом воевать;

И мало горя мне, свободно ли печать

Морочит олухов, иль чуткая цензура

В журнальных замыслах стесняет балагура.

Всё это, видите ль, слова, слова, слова.

Иные, лучшие мне дороги права;

Иная, лучшая потребна мне свобода;

Зависеть от царя, зависеть от народа –

Не всё ли нам равно? Бог с ними.


Отчёта не давать, себе лишь самому

Служить и угождать; для власти, для ливреи

Не гнуть ни совести, ни помыслов, ни шеи;

По прихоти своей скитаться здесь и там,

Дивясь божественным природы красотам,

И пред созданьями искусств и вдохновенья

Трепеща радостно в восторгах умиленья.

– Вот счастье! вот права…

From Pindemonte

I don’t care much about high-sounding rights

That just seem to make people’s heads spin.

I don’t weep if the gods deny me the good fortune

To fight over budgets

Or keep kings from waging war.

It doesn’t grieve me at all that the press

Whips blockheads, that the shrewd censor

Persecutes those who love jokes.

All that is only “words, words, words.”

Other rights are dear to me, I love

A higher and a better liberty:

Servant of the people or servant of power,

Is it not all the same thing?

To be accountable to no one, to serve and satisfy

Oneself alone, not to bow

One’s head to crowns, to liveries,

To wander as fancy dictates,

To tremble, seduced, before beauty,

To be moved by nature, the creations of mind.

That is happiness, there are rights!

(Translation by Serena Vitale)



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