Le gel, Voivode au nez rouge

From Krasnoiarsk, April 18th 2009.

Nicolas Nekrassov is the poet of the population's suffering. He unifies a realistic vision of life with a deep lyrism that often reaches the best of poetry. His work has had and still has a strong influence on Russian youth, and he remains a key author studied at school. Its beauty, music and originality made him eternal. HEre is my preferred extract that evocates so well the winter in Russian taiga as i have experienced it the first month of my travel.

Est-ce le vent au fond des bois?
Ou l'eau qui descend dans la plaine?
Non, c'est "Voivode-le-froid",
Qui vient inspecter ses domaines.

La neige en tempete puissante
A-t-elle efface les chemins?
A-t-elle laisse quelque fente,
Quelque sillon sur le terrain?

Sont-ils emmitoufles, les chenes?
Sont-ils duveteux, les sapins?
La glace est-elle ce matin
Bien prise sur l'eau du domaine?

"Voivode" marche a grands pas,
Passant sur les cimes des arbres,
Tandis qu'un clair soleil s'ebat
Parmi sa broussailleuse barbe.

Nicolas Nekrassov, 1821-1877