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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=461366" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>An Ode in Blessed Memory</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">1<br>A sudden bliss has seized my mind,<br>And to a mountain peak it carries me <br>Up where the wind's forgotten how to stir the trees;<br>The deepest valley lies in silence.<br>Perceiving something, quiet goes the brook <br>That used to babble without cease<br>When rushing swiftly down the hill.<br>There, they are braiding laurel wreaths<br>And word is spread to every side;<br>Smoke curls up from the fields afar.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">2<br>Do I see Pindus down below me?<br>I hear the pristine sisters' songs!<br>With flame Permessian I burn,<br>I strive in haste toward their visage.<br>They've given me the healing water:<br>Drink, and forget your every toil;<br>Rinse out your eyes with dew Castalian.<br>Beyond steppes and mountains cast your gaze,<br>Direct your soul toward those lands<br>Where morning breaks upon dark night.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">3<br>Just like a ship 'midst raving waves<br>That threaten to engulf it,<br>Severs their frothing caps,<br>And clings steadfastly to its course<br>Amidst the raging silver foam,<br>Its wake ablaze across the deep:<br>Thus did the hordes of Tatars haste<br>Around to meet the Russian force;<br>Cavalry steam obscures the sky!<br>What happens then? They're felled at once.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">4<br>Love for the Fatherland empowers<br>The souls and hands of Russian sons;<br>They each desire to spill their blood,<br>They draw their strength from sounds of war.<br>How does the mighty lion scare<br>A wolf pack baring poison teeth<br>Showing ferocious, gleaming eyes?<br>His roaring quakes the woods and shore,<br>His tail churns up the dust and sand,<br>Uncoiling mightily, he strikes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">5<br>Is it bronze thunder in Mount Etna's breast,<br>That bubbles in a sulfurous brew?<br>Or is it Hades shattering his chains,<br>And throwing wide his gaping jaws?<br>It is the nation of an outcast slave<br>Igniting a high castle's moat,<br>Raining down steel and flame upon the valley<br>Where our well-chosen warriors,<br>Ringed all around by swamps and foes,<br>Storm the swift current into fire.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">6<br>O, hide your forces, Istanbul,<br>In mountains, where the fiery sky<br>Belches out ashes, flames and death;<br>Beyond where Tigris scours its banks.<br>But in this world there is no barrier <br>That could curtail the eagles' flight.<br>They stop for naught: not waters, forests,<br>Hills, torrents or the wildest steppes.<br>The eagle legions can attain<br>Heights that are scaled by wind alone.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">7<br>Let earth, like Pontus, heave and breathe,<br>Let all the world's expanses groan,<br>Let blackest smoke obscure the light<br>Moldavan peaks be drenched in blood;<br>But none of this can hinder you,<br>O Rus', for fate herself protects you<br>In blessed Anna's name.<br>And now your ardent zeal for Her<br>Carries you swift through Tatar ranks,<br>Cutting wide swathes for you to pass.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">8<br>The day conceals its rays amidst the waves,<br>And leaves the fight to burn against night;<br>The Tatar prince has perished in the dark;<br>The Tatars loose both light and hope.<br>A wolf steals from the deepest woods<br>Toward the pallid Turkish corpse.<br>Then someone watching his last sunset,<br>Cries out, &quot;O, veil this crimson scene,<br>And cover up Muhammad's shame!<br>Sink like the sun into the sea!&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">9<br>Why is my soul thus seized by fear?<br>My blood runs cold, my heart laments!<br>What sudden clamour strikes my ear?<br>The woods and desert wind are howling!<br>Fierce beasts are hiding in a cave,<br>The door of heaven opens wide,<br>Above the army, stormclouds part -<br>Then all at once the Hero enters,<br>His face aflame, he routs the foe<br>With blood-washed sword.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">10<br>Is it not he, who razed the fortress<br>That threatened Rus' beside the flowing Don?<br>Is it not he who struck the Persians down<br>Amidst the thirsting reaches of the steppe?<br>Just such a gaze he cast upon his foes<br>When he debarked on Gothic shores,<br>Just such a mighty hand he raised,<br>And his steed galloped just as swift<br>When now his legions trampled the plains<br>That lie before the dawning day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">11<br>All round him from the clouds above<br>Rain thunderbolts and lightning,<br>And sensing Peter's forces nigh <br>The woodlands and fields lie trembling.<br>Who joins his fierce gaze to the south,<br>All cloaked in terrifying thunder?<br>It must be he the victor at Kazan,<br>Who by the Caspian's banks <br>Did overthrow the proud Selim -<br>And strew the steppe with Pagan heads.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">12<br>One hero speaks now to the other:<br>&quot;We did not toil in vain,<br>Nor were our exploits futile:<br>For now the world's in awe of Rus'.<br>Our work has broadened our frontiers<br>To north, to west and to the east.<br>And in the south, our Anna celebrates,<br>Bestows this triumph on her people.&quot;<br>Now darkness closes round our heroes -<br>Conceals them from our eyes and ears.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">13<br>The river swirls with Tatar blood<br>That's spilled among the warriors.<br>And fearing battle to rejoin,<br>The foe escapes across the barren land,<br>Abandons sword, encampment, shame,<br>They paint a ghastly sight while running<br>Through their slain brothers blood.<br>Even the slightest trembling leaf<br>Strikes fear into their hearts now<br>Like screaming cannonballs.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">14<br>The woods and vales sing out with springs<br>&quot;O, victory to Rus'! O, victory!&quot;<br>The foe now fleeing Russian swords<br>Is terrified by of his own steps.<br>Then, seeing her own men in flight,<br>The moon, ashamed of their disgrace,<br>Doth blush and hide her face in gloom.<br>And glory flies in dark of night,<br>With trumpets to all lands to herald<br>The terrifying might of Rus'.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Mikhail+Vasilyevich+Lomonosov">Mikhail Vasilyevich Lomonosov</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=461366" data-title="An Ode in Blessed Memory de Mikhail Vasilyevich Lomonosov" data-description="1
A sudden bliss has seized my mind,
And to a mountain peak it carries me 
Up where the wind's forgotten how to stir the trees;
The deepest valley lies in silence.
Perceiving something, quiet goes the brook 
That used to babble without cease
When ..."></div>
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