Birchwood Ivan Ivanovich Shishkin (1832-1898)

FOREST

1
The forest thins, people leave,
This God-given forest grows sparse.
Whats commonplace is this saying:
There are no miracles there.

But there are enough miracles in the world,
Even if this human-made forest
Grows thinner, yet children still grow.
And the sky above the earth is lush.

2
He read the forest like a Bible,
Fascinated by its powerful theme.
He longed to understand the soul of the forest,
Seeing its patterns in the woods.

The deers gnawing on an alder tree,
A ravine that captivated with its depth.
And a squirrel – a rhyme in a verse,
With its golden fur.

The forest is dense – like life itself,
There are too many nuances to grasp about the forest.
From its depths and heights,
The heavenly beauty is so wonderful.

3
An island of pines, rosy-hued,
Further on, you enter a dark coniferous grove.
In autumn, in the forest, the falling leaves
Will be soft, unpretentious.

Here, a magpie will fly off
To spread gossip to its neighbors.
A wolf will find the carcass of a young elk -
Left unfinished by a bear.

And in the ravines, there are masses of burrows -
Baruchs labyrinths.
Enter the forest – and it will fill your gaze,
There is a need for its paintings.

4
A clearing of chanterelles – a circle,
Cut them, freeing them from the grass.
The play of light – like a golden harp,
But I dont have time to pick russulas.