Classic Poem

The little wild birds have come flying
From beyond the sea, the blue sea;
The little birds go fluttering
About the bushes, over the open field:
All have their mates and rejoice in love.
Only the good youth, Alexandrushka,
A homeless orphan in the wide world,
Grieves like a pining cuckoo,
And melts away in burning tears.
The poor lad has no one,
No one in the wide world to fondle him, —
No one ever brings joy to the orphan,
Uttering words of kind endearment.
Should he go out into the open field,
There to trample under foot his cares,
His misery and his bitter longing,
His longing and his misery not to be shaken off, —
Or should he go out into the dark forest,
His sorrow will not fly away.
The heart of the good youth
Is eaten up with care;
He fades, he withers in his loneliness,
Like a blade of grass in the midst of a wild plain.
To the youth not even God's light is dear.
But Dunya dear has taken pity
On the poor fellow, on the orphan;
She has caress'd the homeless One,
She has spoken to him terms of endearment, —
The beautiful maiden has fallen in love
With the lad Alexandrushka.
She has cover'd him with her silken veil,
She has call'd him her darling, her Beloved One:
And his sorrow and sighing have pass'd away.