Translated Poems

Turkey
Nikolai Gumilev (1886-1921)

My downward and blushing memory
Conjured a motley meadow,
Where reigned a splendid turkey,
whom I adored!

It exuded pride and freedom,
Its beak — scarlet like a flame,
'cause I was four, it sharply despised me,
laying bare its contempt.

No chocolates, caramels,
pineapple-soda,
or other imaginable sweets on earth,
Could sooth me or offer comfort
In my fixed consciousness of shame.

And once again calamity smites me
with similar bitterness and shame
You — so adored and awfully wrathful,
proudly pronouncing, "Nyet!"

Yet, everything passes in a lifetime:
love will pass along with longings;
And I'll recall you with a smile,
like this pompous turkey.