Home
Categories
EXPLORE
True Crime
Comedy
Society & Culture
Business
Sports
TV & Film
Health & Fitness
About Us
Contact Us
Copyright
© 2024 PodJoint
00:00 / 00:00
Sign in

or

Don't have an account?
Sign up
Forgot password
https://is1-ssl.mzstatic.com/image/thumb/Podcasts211/v4/86/23/d4/8623d4d5-ec6d-8d28-997f-cec7ab15f656/mza_5842328980940730346.jpg/600x600bb.jpg
Free Translator: a poetry podcast
Danya Kosyakov
4 episodes
6 months ago
Masterpieces of Russian poetry translated and discussed. 1 episode — 1 author — 1 poem. Commentary and reading by a Free Translator Danya Kosyakov.
Show more...
Fiction
Arts,
Books
RSS
All content for Free Translator: a poetry podcast is the property of Danya Kosyakov and is served directly from their servers with no modification, redirects, or rehosting. The podcast is not affiliated with or endorsed by Podjoint in any way.
Masterpieces of Russian poetry translated and discussed. 1 episode — 1 author — 1 poem. Commentary and reading by a Free Translator Danya Kosyakov.
Show more...
Fiction
Arts,
Books
https://ru-msk-dr3-1.store.cloud.mts.ru/mave/storage/podcasts/e717d062-1428-4d9a-b58f-6095a14eda92/images/f465633b-1904-41eb-8c35-a40b03743ce7.jpg
Free Translator #3 | Mikhail Lérmontov | «On my own onto the road I enter…»
Free Translator: a poetry podcast
15 minutes
8 months ago
Free Translator #3 | Mikhail Lérmontov | «On my own onto the road I enter…»
A brief talk about Russian XIX century classic, icon of romantic poetry Mikhail Lérmontov, his short life and his visit card «On my own onto the road I enter…», written 1841. *** «On my own onto the road I enter…» By Mikhail Lérmontov (1814-1841) On my own onto the road I enter; Stony pathway through the fog shines far; Night is calm. The desert heeds the Maker, And a star is talking to a star. Solemnly and lovely in the heavens! The Earth sleeps in the blue aureole... Why is it so painful and so hard then? Do I wait? or do I dream? for what? From my life I wait already nothing, And the past — I don't regret a bit; Peace and freedom are what I am searching! I would crave oblivion and sleep! It’s not a cold grave sleep I seek and crave for... Wish I could have slept for centuries, That those vital powers dozed in chest, so That, in breath, the chest would've quietly heaved; That all night, all day to nurse my hearing, The sweet voice would've sang to me 'bout love, And above, endlessly evergreening, The dark oak would've rustled and bowed down. 1841
Free Translator: a poetry podcast
Masterpieces of Russian poetry translated and discussed. 1 episode — 1 author — 1 poem. Commentary and reading by a Free Translator Danya Kosyakov.