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No. 4 & 5

________________________________________________ 

F. I. Tiutchev  

Translated from the Russian by  J. Kates  

 ________________________________________________

THERE IS, AT THE FIRST BEGINNING OF FALL 
 

There is, at the first beginning of fall 
a brief, but extraordinary time — 
The whole day turns as it were to crystal, 
and the evenings are sublime . . . 
Where a lively sickle felled the grain, 
Nothing but emptiness everywhere — 
glimmering in an idle furrow 
only a spiderweb's thin hair. 
Air empties out, birds are heard no more, 
but far off the first winter storms already — 
and a clean and temperate azure 
pours over the resting field . . . 
 

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