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Пока не требует поэта К священной жертве Аполлон, В заботах су́етного света Он малодушно погружён; Молчит его святая лира; Душа вкушает хладный сон, И меж детей ничтожных мира, Быть может, всех ничтожней он. Но лишь Божественный глагол До слуха чуткого коснётся, Душа поэта встрепенётся, Как пробудившийся орёл. Тоскует он в забавах мира, Людской чуждается молвы, К ногам народного кумира Не кло́нит гордой головы; Бежит он, дикий и суровый, И звуков и смятенья полн, На берега пустынных волн, В широкошумные дубровы…
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Note on TransliterationsText Authorship:
- by Aleksandr Sergeyevich Pushkin (1799 - 1837), "Поэт" [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Nikolai Andreyevich Rimsky-Korsakov (1844 - 1908), "Поэт", op. 45 no. 5 (1897-9), from Поэту (Po`etu), no. 5 [sung text checked 1 time]
- by Aleksandr Nikolayevich Shefer (1866 - 1914), "Поэт" [sung text not yet checked]
- by Yevgeny Vikentevich Slavinsky (1897 - 1978), "Поэт" [sung text not yet checked]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Sergey Rybin) , "The poet", copyright © 2017, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "Le poète", copyright © 2017, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 20
Word count: 80
While the poet is not summoned For a sacred oblation by Apollo, In the chores of the mundane world He is submerged carelessly; His holy lyre is silent; His soul partakes cold slumber, And amongst the feeble creatures of the world He is, probably, the most feeble. But as soon as Godly accents Touch the sensitive hearing, The poet's soul shudders Like an awakened eagle. He is bored amidst worldly gaiety, He flees society's bustle, Before the people's idol He does not bow his proud head; He escapes, wild and rugged, Full of sounds and turmoil, To the shores of desolate waves, To the ever roaring oak woods...
Text Authorship:
- Translation from Russian (Русский) to English copyright © 2017 by Sergey Rybin, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.
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Based on:
- a text in Russian (Русский) by Aleksandr Sergeyevich Pushkin (1799 - 1837), "Поэт"
This text was added to the website: 2017-01-14
Line count: 20
Word count: 108
