Monday 9 June 2008

Fyodor Ivanovich Tyutchev (1803-1873)

Tyutchev was significant Russian poets, one of the most outstanding representatives of philosophical and political lyric poetry. Tyutchev was born on December 5, 1803 on an estate 200 miles southwest of Moscow.
Fedor Tyutchev was born into a noble family of moderate wealth. He received excellent education at home and at Moscow University. At 12 he translated Horace and at 16 began writing verses. In those times the children of noblemen were supposed to serve in the army or make a civil career. Tyutchev chose diplomacy. He served in the Foreign Ministry and often went abroad on diplomatic missions, successfully combining civil duties and literary activities. Somehow he almost never got into trouble. People said that he had been born under a lucky star.
When he returned to Russian and once again joined St. Petersburg society, he began a more serious literary career. Tyutchev didn’t want people to know him as a poet. He didn’t take any part in a literary life. His first collection of poems appeared in St. Petersburg in 1854. Shaken by his mistresses death in 1864, Tyutchev wrote little in the following years, and in 1872 a stroke left him paralyzed. Over the next year other strokes followed, and he died on June 27, 1873.

Пусть сосны и ели
Всю зиму торчат,
В снега и метели
Закутавшись, спят —
Их тощая зелень,
Как иглы ежа,
Хоть ввек не желтеет,
Но ввек не свежа.
Мы ж, легкое племя,
Цветем и блестим
И краткое время
На сучьях гостим.
Все красное лето
Мы были в красе —
Играли с лучами,
Купались в росе!..
Но птички отпели,
Цветы отцвели,
Лучи побледнели —
Зефиры ушли.
Так что же нам даром
Висеть и желтеть?
Не лучше ль за ними
И нам улететь!
О буйные ветры,
Скорее, скорей!
Скорей нас сорвите
С докучных ветвей,
Сорвите, умчите,
Мы ждать не хотим,
Летите, летите!
Мы с вами летим!..

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