A few lines from the poetry collection, Light of the Hearth
By Ivan Savelyev
The poems were translated by Walter May.
At any and every time of the year,
Whatever the dream I live at that hour,
With nature’s voice in harmony here
Is the tuning of my emotional power.
So near to me her tears, her hurts,
So heavy her grief and loss again,
That when they hack a branch from a birch
In my own arms I feel the pain.
* * *
No, the heavens are surely never blind,
And the earth can surely not lack sight.
Grasses deaf from birth you will not find.
Rivers without hearing would not be right.
It is we, the sons of heaven and earth,
Finding ourselves not all at once, I fear,
On the millennia’s steep road struggling forth,
Who are slowly learning to see and hear…