Sergei Yesenin, a singer of the Russian soul, reveals a full range of emotions in his poems about love for women – from tender trepidation and adoration to the bitterness of separation and tragic doom. His muse is not just a beloved, but the embodiment of Russia itself, its beauty and sorrow. These poems intertwine motifs of nature, rural melancholy, and rebellious spirit, creating the inimitable atmosphere of Yesenin's lyricism. For him, love is both light and darkness, a source of inspiration and the cause of profound suffering. This collection will allow you to experience the full complexity and multifaceted nature of Yesenin's view of female love.
Content
Collapse
Letter to mother
Don't be sad, my joy, don't cry, I haven't forgotten the fields here either. Only my heart, like a bird, suddenly flutters, And yearns for home, loving. Pray for me, that fate doesn't break me, doesn't lead me astray. I love the way the grasses love in spring, And I want to carry this tenderness with me. But love is the wind in the steppe, Now caressing, now tearing to pieces. And I'm afraid that I, like a blade of grass, Will not withstand the melancholy of love.
I don’t regret, I don’t call, I don’t cry…
I don't regret, I don't call, I don't cry, It will all pass, like smoke from white apple trees. Embraced by the gold of fading, I will no longer be young. You, carefree, red as dawn, Float away to distant lands. And in my soul there is only quiet sadness, And the hope that love will not kill.
Letter to a woman
Boredom, you know, is worse than any pain. In this room, empty and without you, Like autumn that blows away the leaves at will, My youth dies. I dream of your eyes, Of a smile brighter than the dawn. And I yearn in these gray days, Like orphaned horses in the field.
The golden grove dissuaded...
The golden grove has spoken, the birch's cheerful tongue. The leaves whispered fearfully, anticipating winter's wild cry. And I gaze sadly into your eyes, reflecting the passing of days. My love, like the grove, is fading, and my heart aches in its silence.
My fallen maple, my frozen maple...
My fallen maple, my frozen maple, why do you stand there, sad and alone? My heart, too, has grown cold, ever since you became as alien to me as smoke. I loved you as fields love, as sunsets and morning light love. But you're gone, and my soul is filled with darkness, and there's no hope left.
Kachalov's dog
You may be a dog and I may be a poet, But I understand your longing. You look out the windows, waiting for your mistress, And I am love that has disappeared into the distance, into the haze. And in your eyes, full of true sadness, I see a reflection of my soul. We both wait, but we know it's in vain, And our hearts ache, and hurt, and passionately.
Shagane, you are mine, Shagane...
Shagane, you are mine, Shagane, Your gaze is like a southern night. And in my heart, as in the desert, The bright power of love has ignited. But I know that you are not mine, That you are like the wind, free and light. And I will love you from afar, In the poems that I write for you.
I am the last poet of the village...
I am the last poet of the village, with longing in my heart and sadness in my eyes. My love, like withered grass, fades like the autumn distance. You went to the city, to the glitter and bustle, and I remained here, in the silence of the fields. And I will love you like my native land, in the verses that are born in my soul.
The road is covered with snow...
The road is covered in snow, And the blizzard howls like a beast in the night. And in my heart there is only longing for you, And the memory of our love. You left without a word, Leaving me in this winter darkness. And now I wander alone through the world, In search of warmth, in search of you.
A white birch tree under my window…
The white birch tree beneath my window reminds me of your beauty. You, like a birch tree, are slender and beautiful, and my heart sinks in my sadness. I loved you as one loves a home, as one loves the sunset and the morning light. But you are gone, and my soul is filled with darkness, and there is no hope left, not even a hope left.
In the abandoned fields, in the depths of the forest...
In the abandoned fields, in the depths of the forest, I wandered like a doe, alone, timidly. I sought love, I sought peace, but found only melancholy and sadness. And then I met you, poet, in your poems I found solace. You awakened love and passion in me, and gave me a new birth.
With you, it’s like I’m living in a fairy tale...
With you, it's like I'm living in a fairy tale, In a world of dreams and tender promises. Your eyes are like stars in the sky, And my heart beats to the rhythm of joy. I've forgotten all the sorrows and hardships, The gray everyday life and the melancholy in my soul. With you, I'm happy, with you, I'm free, And I believe that happiness will be ours.
Ah, this music that flows into the heart...
Ah, this music that flows into my heart, Reminds me of our love. Of secret meetings, of tender kisses, Of days that flew by like a dream. I remember everything as if it were yesterday: Your voice, your laughter, your radiant gaze. And even though the years separate us now, My love for you will remain pure.
In the silence of the night, by the old pond...
In the silence of the night, by the old pond, I sit alone, and my heart aches, waits. I remember our secret meetings, and how love blossoms in my soul. You promised to always be with me, but you left without a word, not a glance. And now I wander the world alone, in search of warmth, in search of you.