It has been a good while since we decided to broaden our format a little and introduce some new exciting series for our blog. So today we are introducing our Poetic Tuesday: every Tuesday we will (try to) post a remarkable Soviet poem, most probably on a fortnightly basis.  This particular poem, Winter Night by Nobel Prize for Literature of 1958, the author of Doctor Zhivago, Boris Pasternak has been hand picked to open this collection. We thank Andrey Kneller for the translation. The best way to enjoy it, we suggest, is by clicking Read More.., then play the youtube video and when the words begin, read the poem. The video features Winter Night read in Russian by Boris Vetrov, violin by Secret Garden. It is truly moving — we hope you enjoy it as much as we do. Thanks for being such a wonderful audience — you are a pleasure to write for.

The blizzards all across the earth
Have swept uncurbed
The candle burned upon the desk
The candle burned

As in the summer, moths are drawn
Towards the flame
The pale snowflakes soared
Towards the pane

Upon the glass, bright snowy rings
And streaks were churned
The candle burned upon the desk
The candle burned

On the illumined ceiling
Shadows swayed
A cross of arms, a cross of legs
A cross of fate

Two boots fell down on the floor
With crashing sound
And from the crown tears of wax
Dripped on the gown

And nothing in the snowy haze
Could be discerned
The candle burned upon the desk
The candle burned

A gentle draft blew on the flame,
And in temptation,
It raised two wings into a cross
As if an angel

It swept and swept all through the month
This frequently occurred
The candle burned upon the desk
The candle burned

Boris Pasternak

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Related posts:

1. Best of Winter 2009–2010
2. Russian Ice Cream In Winter — Bring It On!
3. Declassified: the Great and Powerful Stalin.