III. 43
Have ye heard in the woods the nightly voiceOf the bard of love, of the bard of his grief?When the fields in the morning hour were still,The flute's sad sound and simpleHave ye heard?
Have ye met in the desert darkness of the forestThe bard of love, the bard of his grief?Was it a track of tears, was it a smile,Or a quiet glance filled with melancholy,Have ye met?
Have ye sighed, listening to the calm voiceOf the bard of love, of the bard of grief?When in the woods the youth ye sawAnd met the glance of his dulled eyes,Have ye sighed?
Evening ZephyrWaves the ether.Murmurs,RushesThe Guadalquivir.
Now the golden moon has risen,Quiet,... Tshoo ... guitar's now heard....Now the Spanish girl youngO'er the balcony has leaned.
Evening ZephyrWaves the ether.Murmurs,RushesThe Guadalquivir.
Drop thy mantle, angel gentle,And appear as fair as day!Thro' the iron balustradePut thy wondrous tender foot!
Evening ZephyrWaves the ether.Murmurs,RushesThe Guadalquivir.
Bitterly groaning, jealous maid the youth was scolding;He, on her shoulder leaning, suddenly was in slumber lost.Silent forthwith is the maid; his light sleep now fondles sheNow she smiles upon him, and is shedding gentle tears.
Damp day's light is quenched: damp night's darknessStretches over the sky its leaden garment.Like a ghost, from behind the pine woodFoggy moon has risen....All brings upon my soul darkness grievous.Far, far away rises the shining moon,There the earth is filled with evening warmthThere the sea moveth with luxuriant waveUnder the heavens blue....Now is the time. On the hillside now she walksTo the shore washed by noisy waves.There, under the billowed cliffsAlone she sits now melancholy....Alone ... none before her weeping, grieves not,Her knees none kisses in ecstasy.Alone ... to lips of none she is yieldingHer shoulders, nor moist lips, nor snow-white fingers.None is worthy of her heavenly love.Is it not so? Thou art alone.... Thou weepest....And I at peace? . . . . . . .But if . . . . . . .
The name of me, what is it to theeDie it shall like the grievous soundOf wave, playing on distant shore,As sound of night in forest dark.
Upon the sheet of memoryIts traces dead leave it shallInscriptions-like of grave-yardIn some foreign tongue.
What is in it? Long ago forgottenIn tumultuous waves and freshTo thy soul not give it shallPure memories and tender.
But on sad days, in calmnessDo pronounce it sadly;Say then: I do remember thee--On earth one heart is where yet I live!
Words in this poem
- nightly a.
- Of or pertaining to the night, or to every night; happening or done by night, or every night; as, nightly shades; he kept nightly vigils.
- zephyr n.
- The west wind; poetically, any soft, gentle breeze. [L. zephyrus, Gr. zéphyr.]
- balustrade n.
- A row of balusters topped by a rail, serving as an open parapet, as along the edge of a balcony, terrace, bridge, staircase, or the eaves of a building.
- wondrous adv.
- In a wonderful or surprising manner or degree; wonderfully. [OE. wonders, adv. (later also adj.). See Wonder, n., and cf. -wards.]
- bitterly adv.
- In a bitter manner.
- forthwith adv.
- Immediately; without delay; directly.
- ghost n.
- The spirit; the soul of man. [OE. gast, gost, soul, spirit, AS. gast breath, spirit, soul; akin to OS. g spirit, soul, D. geest, G. geist, and prob. to E. gaze, ghastly.]
- shall v. i.
- To owe; to be under obligation for. [OE. shal, schal, imp. sholde, scholde, AS. scal, sceal, I am obliged, imp. scolde, sceolde, inf. sculan; akin to OS. skulan, pres. skal, imp. skolda, D. zullen,]
- sadly adv.
- Wearily; heavily; firmly.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
III. 43 is in the public domain. This text is taken from Poems With Introduction and Notes, Project Gutenberg ebook #54991; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Alexander Pushkin, III. 43, in Poems (1888), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #54991, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/pushkin-poems/iii-43.html, id L25537.
Form and metre
III. 43 is 79 lines in 14 stanzas. This poem did not settle on a metre of its own; the book it comes from is in iambic tetrameter.
See other poems in iambic tetrameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 --AA- voice · grief · stillA · simpleA · heard
- 10 ---A-A--------------- darkness · garment · wood · risenA · grievous · moonA · warmth · wave · blue · walks · waves · cliffs · melancholy · not · ecstasy · yielding · fingers · love · weepest · peace · if
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic tetrameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| Have ye heard in the woods the nightly voice | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Of the bard of love, of the bard of his grief? | 11 | ··········· |
| When the fields in the morning hour were still, | 10 | ·····/˘/·· |
| The flute's sad sound and simple | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| Have ye heard? | 3 | ··· |
| Have ye met in the desert darkness of the forest | 13 | ·····/˘/˘··/˘ |
| The bard of love, the bard of his grief? | 9 | ········· |
| Was it a track of tears, was it a smile, | 10 | ·········· |
| Or a quiet glance filled with melancholy, | 10 | ··/···/˘·˘ |
| Have ye met? | 3 | ··· |
| Have ye sighed, listening to the calm voice | 9 | ···/˘···· |
| Of the bard of love, of the bard of grief? | 10 | ·········· |
| When in the woods the youth ye saw | 8 | ········ |
| And met the glance of his dulled eyes, | 8 | ········ |
| Have ye sighed? | 3 | ··· |
| Evening Zephyr | 4 | /˘/˘ |
| Waves the ether. | 4 | ··/˘ |
| Murmurs, | 2 | /˘ |
| Rushes | 2 | /˘ |
| The Guadalquivir. | 5 | ····· |
| Now the golden moon has risen, | 8 | ··/˘··/˘ |
| Quiet,... Tshoo ... guitar's now heard.... | 7 | /˘·˘/·· |
| Now the Spanish girl young | 6 | ··/˘·· |
| O'er the balcony has leaned. | 8 | ··/˘˘··˘ |
| Evening Zephyr | 4 | /˘/˘ |
| Waves the ether. | 4 | ··/˘ |
| Murmurs, | 2 | /˘ |
| Rushes | 2 | /˘ |
| The Guadalquivir. | 5 | ····· |
| Drop thy mantle, angel gentle, | 8 | ··/˘/˘/˘ |
| And appear as fair as day! | 7 | ·˘/···· |
| Thro' the iron balustrade | 7 | ··/˘/˘˘ |
| Put thy wondrous tender foot! | 7 | ··/˘/˘· |
| Evening Zephyr | 4 | /˘/˘ |
| Waves the ether. | 4 | ··/˘ |
| Murmurs, | 2 | /˘ |
| Rushes | 2 | /˘ |
| The Guadalquivir. | 5 | ····· |
| Bitterly groaning, jealous maid the youth was scolding; | 12 | /˘/˘/˘····/˘ |
| He, on her shoulder leaning, suddenly was in slumber lost. | 14 | ···/˘/˘/˘··/˘· |
| Silent forthwith is the maid; his light sleep now fondles she | 14 | /˘//·······/˘· |
| Now she smiles upon him, and is shedding gentle tears. | 13 | ········/˘/˘· |
| Damp day's light is quenched: damp night's darkness | 9 | ·······/˘ |
| Stretches over the sky its leaden garment. | 10 | /˘····/˘/˘ |
| Like a ghost, from behind the pine wood | 9 | ········· |
| Foggy moon has risen.... | 6 | /˘··/˘ |
| All brings upon my soul darkness grievous. | 10 | ······/˘/˘ |
| Far, far away rises the shining moon, | 10 | ··˘//˘·/˘· |
| There the earth is filled with evening warmth | 9 | ······/˘· |
| There the sea moveth with luxuriant wave | 10 | ······˘/˘· |
| Under the heavens blue.... | 6 | ···/˘· |
| Now is the time. On the hillside now she walks | 11 | ······/···· |
| To the shore washed by noisy waves. | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| There, under the billowed cliffs | 8 | ····/˘˘· |
| Alone she sits now melancholy.... | 9 | ˘/···/˘·˘ |
| Alone ... none before her weeping, grieves not, | 10 | ˘/····/˘·· |
| Her knees none kisses in ecstasy. | 9 | ···/˘·/˘˘ |
| Alone ... to lips of none she is yielding | 10 | ˘/······/˘ |
| Her shoulders, nor moist lips, nor snow-white fingers. | 11 | ·/˘······/˘ |
| None is worthy of her heavenly love. | 9 | ··/˘··/˘· |
| Is it not so? Thou art alone.... Thou weepest.... | 11 | ······˘/·/˘ |
| And I at peace? . . . . . . . | 4 | ···· |
| But if . . . . . . . | 2 | ·· |
| The name of me, what is it to thee | 9 | ········· |
| Die it shall like the grievous sound | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Of wave, playing on distant shore, | 8 | ··/˘·/˘· |
| As sound of night in forest dark. | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Upon the sheet of memory | 8 | ·····/˘˘ |
| Its traces dead leave it shall | 7 | ·/˘···· |
| Inscriptions-like of grave-yard | 7 | ˘/˘···· |
| In some foreign tongue. | 5 | ··/˘· |
| What is in it? Long ago forgotten | 10 | ·····˘/˘/˘ |
| In tumultuous waves and fresh | 8 | ··/˘˘··· |
| To thy soul not give it shall | 7 | ······· |
| Pure memories and tender. | 7 | ·/˘˘·/˘ |
| But on sad days, in calmness | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| Do pronounce it sadly; | 6 | ·˘/·/˘ |
| Say then: I do remember thee-- | 8 | ····˘/˘· |
| On earth one heart is where yet I live! | 9 | ········· |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.