A Winter Evening
Alexander Pushkin
Sable clouds by tempest driven,
Snowflakes whirling in the gales,
Hark–it sounds like grim wolves howling,
Hark–now like a child it wails!
Creeping through the rustling straw thatch,
Rattling on the mortared walls,
Like some weary wanderer knocking–
On the lowly pane it falls.
| Fearsome darkness fills the kitchen, Drear and lonely our retreat, Speak a word and break the silence, Dearest little Mother, sweet! Has the moaning of the tempest Closed thine eyelids wearily? Has the spinning wheel’s soft whirring Hummed a cradle song to thee? Sweetheart of my youthful Springtime, Sable clouds by tempest driven, |
|
C. Christopher Smith is the founding editor of The Englewood Review of Books. He is also author of a number of books, including most recently How the Body of Christ Talks: Recovering the Practice of Conversation in the Church (Brazos Press, 2019). Connect with him online at: C-Christopher-Smith.com
 Reading for the Common Good From ERB Editor Christopher Smith "This book will inspire, motivate and challenge anyone who cares a whit about the written word, the world of ideas, the shape of our communities and the life of the church." -Karen Swallow Prior Enter your email below to sign up for our weekly newsletter & download your FREE copy of this ebook! |
![30 Poems to Memorize (Before It’s Too Late) - David Kern, Ed. [Review]](https://englewoodreview.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/01/30-Poems.jpeg "30 Poems to Memorize (Before It’s Too Late) - David Kern, Ed. [Review]")
