Autumn in Taiga

11 Comments

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  • Lost Love
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  • Nature

    Poem Commentary

    This poem was written many years ago but I rewrite it in English recently

    Autumn in Taiga

    The leaves of the autumn

    Surrounded with silence and light

    Again overshadow

    Blue color of sky and a river

    And bitterness feels

     In a smell and a taste of the freedom

    And sad farewell

    In the air that is crispy and bright

     

    The winter is coming

    Few days of the beauty remain

    Good luck to you, Hunter

    You’ll leave in the frozen sunrise

    Your luggage on board

    And your boat almost ready to go

    In love with no answer

    Forever my joy and my pain

    Poem Comments

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    cousinsoren commented on Autumn in Taiga

    11-08-2010

    Truely beautiful poem my dear friend in any language you could translate it into the beauty would remain, bravo! I love the softness of the visuals but unlike most poetry that has visions of granduer you poem is written through the eyes od reality, yet in such a relaity of bitter winters and grey colors of old one of pure heart and mind can find the light and promise of the future, truely an inspiring poem of freedom of one's mind and soul. The freedom we americans take for granted that so many have llived, died, and sweated tears for. The winters may be long and gruling but the true spirit lives for the beauty of the summer and enjoys the perfection of such a moment...' I borrow the comment of Angel to express the euphoric hold that this poem has on me. Its special charm is its mtstique, " The winter is coming Few days of the beauty remain Good luck to you, Hunter" A truly poignant poem revealing a subtle veil of regret?" Probably that is what Angel is wondering about, when he declared, "Perhaps I see. Perhaps, I am blind" I need not comment on its literary perfection. It is there for all to see, I prefer to speak of its effective emotional power, it is almost mesmeric.
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    Forestbird

    11/12/2010

    O thank you! May be that freedom that we have there fare away from cities in the middle of Seberia made me come back there every summer for 15 years.

    Olan01 commented on Autumn in Taiga

    10-07-2010

    Ah, you got out you autumn poem before I did and well done I might add. I like and enjoyed every word as they flow easily from the tongue. Dwell in love peace and freedom, my new friend. Your truely, Olan
    Reply to Comment

    dancinghawk commented on Autumn in Taiga

    08-05-2010

    love your connection between farewells and bitter freedom ... "And bitterness feels / In a smell and a taste of the freedom / And sad farewell" ... perfectly set in the sights and sounds of abundance-before-deep-winter and the crisp alive-ness that "hunting" season brings ... the picture you paint of the boat heading into the horizon is powerful, as well, and all drawn with so few words! nice work, Forestbird! thx for posting! -dh
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    HarverTomsson commented on Autumn in Taiga

    08-04-2010

    The metaphoric hunter, real or superimposed, is at the heart of this paen to love unrequited and life too soon over. Boys will be boys, so buck up, and leave the two top buttons to your flannel unbuttoned, in case he returns before dark.
    Reply to Comment

    Forestbird

    08/05/2010

    He was a hunter and trapper and writer. He had never returned. He sent me his first published book of short stories. This is probably them for another poem. Thank you for stoping by

    angel33614 commented on Autumn in Taiga

    07-27-2010

    truely beautiful poem my dear friend in any language you could translate it into the beauty would remain, bravo! I love the softness of the visuals but unlike most poetry that has visions of granduer you poem is written through the eyes od reality, yet in such a relaity of bitter winters and grey colors of old one of pure heart and mind can find the light and promise of the future, truely an inspiring poem of freedom of one's mind and soul. The freedom we americans take for granted that so many have llived, died, and sweated tears for. The winters may be long and gruling but the true spirit lives for the beauty of the summer and enjoys the perfection of such a moment... Perhaps I see, perhaps I am blind. Purity of the soul, journey well!!! Angel aka The poem buster
    Reply to Comment

    Forestbird

    07/27/2010

    Thank you so much. You find in this poem more than I probably new of. I would never imagine walking on this green moss among dark firs and orange aspens 20 something years ago that this poem will be rewritten in English and people from all over US will read it. Life is most amazing thing. It is more fantastic than any fiction... Thank you again

    The true philosopher and the true poet are one, and a beauty, which is truth, and a truth, which is beauty, is the aim of both.

    Ralph Waldo Emerson, American Poet (1803-1882)

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