Evening

Charles Macfarlane

This poem is a loose translation by myself from Russian to English of one by Mikhail Yurievich Lermontov, which itself was a loose translation by him from German to Russian of an original poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. [1]

This is Goethe's Geman original:

Ein gleiches

Ueber allen Gipfeln
Ist Ruh’,
In allen Wipfeln
Spürest du
Kaum einen Hauch;
Die Vögelein schweigen im Walde.
Warte nur, balde
Ruhest du auch.

1780

 

This is Lermontov's Russian translation:

Из Гёте

Горные вершины
Спят во тьме ночной;
Тихие долины
Полны свежей мглой;
Не пылит дорога,
Не дрожат листы...
Подожди немного,
Отдохнёшь и ты.

1840

This is my translation of Lermontov's poem:

Evening

The highest peaks of hills
Still catch the fading light;
The glens between them fill
With wreaths of misty night;
The drooping leaves are still
The road is dustless white,
Just you but rest until
Some sleep attends the night.

2025

1.  I studied Russian for only a year at school, which was a very long time ago now, before deciding I was much better at science and maths, and leaving school to study those instead.  I learnt Lermontov's poem in those Russian classes taught by an exiled Count, and have carried it in my head ever since, only recently discovering the original on the internet, whereupon I was minded to translate it.