By The Fireplace by Afanasy Fet

The embers fade. A lucid flame

flickers in the half-light,

like a butterfly’s azure wing

on a scarlet poppy.

 

A scattering of motley visions

soothes my tired eyes.

Faces I can’t quite distinguish

gaze from the grey ash.

 

Past happiness and sadness rise –

a friendly, tender pair;

the soul pretends it can get by

without all it held so dear.

 

by Афанасий Афанасьевич Фет (Afanasy Afanasyevich Fet)

(1856)

translated by Boris Dralyuk

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