Hallowe’en by R.S. Thomas

Outside a surfeit of planes.

Inside the hunger of the departed

to come back. ‘Ah, erstwhile humans,

would you make your mistakes

over again? In life, as in love,

the second time around is

no better.’

I confront their expressions

in the embers, on grey walls:

faces among the stones watching

me to see if this night

of all nights I will make sacrifice

to the spirits of hearth and of

roof-tree, pouring a libation.

 

‘Stay where you are,’ I implore.

‘This is no world for escaped beings

to make their way back into.

The well that you took your pails

to is polluted. At the centre

of the mind’s labyrinth to machine howls

for the sacrifice of the affections;

vocabulary has on a soft collar

but the tamed words are not to be trusted.

As long as the flames hum, making

their honey, better to look in

upon truth’s comb than to

take off as we do on fixed wings

for depollinated horizons.’

 

by R. S Thomas

from No Truce with the Furies (1995)

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To Her by Vasily Zhukovsky

Where’s there a name for you?

No mortal’s art has the power

to express your charm.

 

Nor are there lyres for you!

Songs? Not to be trusted –

the echo of a belated rumour.

 

If they had ears for the heart,

every one of my senses

would be a hymn to you.

 

I carry your life’s charm,

this pure, holy image,

like a mystery in my heart.

 

All I can do is love;

only eternity can speak

the love you inspire.

 

by Василий Андреевич Жуковский (Vasily Andreyevich Zhukovsky)

(1811)

translated by Robert Chandler


 

Fun fact: Ivan Bunin, the Nobel Prize winning Russian emigre author, is related to him.