It is a gesture against the wild,
The ungovernable sea of grass;
A place to remember love in,
To be lonely for a while;
To forget the voices of children
Calling from a locked room;
To substitute for the care
Of one querulous human
Hundreds of dumb needs.
It is the old kingdom of man.
Answering to their names,
Out of the soil the buds come,
The silent detonations
Of power weilded without sin.
by R. S. Thomas
from The Bread of Truth (1963)
You stood before me
so still and quiet.
Your gaze was languid
and full of feeling.
It summoned memories
of days so lovely…
It was the last
such day you gave me.
Now you have vanished,
a quiet angel;
your grave is peaceful,
as calm as Eden!
There rest all earthly
recollections,
There rest all holy
Thoughts of heaven.
Heavenly stars,
quiet night!
by Василий Андреевич Жуковский (Vasily Andreyevich Zhukovsky)
(1823)
translated by Boris Dralyuk
Fun fact: Ivan Bunin, the Nobel Prize winning Russian emigre author, is related to him.
Rambling At The Bridge Head 