‘Autumn Evening’
By Fyodor Tyutchev
The serenity of autumn evenings
Retains a tender, secret charm:
The presaging luster of motley trees,
Purple leaves lightly, languidly rustling,
The hazy, quiet azure sky
Above lamenting orphaned earth,
And, like an augur of coming storms,
An occasional gusty, chilling wind,
A waning, a languor—and over all
That gentle, yearning, fading smile
That in rational creatures we call
Suffering’s modesty divine.
(From Poems
& Political Letters of F. I. Tyutchev, trans. Zeldin, Knoxville, Tenn.:
U of Tenn. Press, 1973, p. 40)
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