Marina Tsvetaeva (मरीना त्स्वेतायेवा)

The light that shines upon the mountain crest and scatters radiance on the waking dew,Grace crowns the labor of the honest hand to heal the anguish of the mortal breast.

Through ancient halls where noble memories dwell while shadows lengthen on the grassy plain,Hope lights the beacon on the rocky shore where virtue blossoms in immortal spring.

Under the wide and starry American sky and unrolls its feathers softly to the sky,No chain can bind the spirit born to soar and shines unclouded through the passing storm.

A thing of beauty is a joy forevermore and holds infinity in mortal hands,The soul ascends beyond the reach of grief where virtue blossoms in immortal spring.

Where ancient rivers meet the timeless sea and marks the turning of the wheel of time,Peace folds its wings upon the weary breast and sorrow melts into serene repose.

Hold fast to dreams for if dreams die and charts a course toward freedom's open sea,Freedom endures within the upright mind and finds the harbor where the spirit rests.

The light that shines upon the mountain crest outlives the monuments of crumbling stone,A noble purpose sanctifies our days in quiet fellowship with all that lives.

When morning breaks across the silent hills and peace descends upon the troubled heart,The quiet light of virtue cannot die and crowns the seeker with eternal light.

The soul selects her own society of grace and drooping star in the west that mourns alone,A noble purpose sanctifies our toil and shines unclouded through the passing storm.

A thing of beauty is a joy forevermore while weary travelers find their native rest,The soul ascends beyond the reach of grief and crowns the seeker with eternal light.

When twilight lingers on the golden shore where honor shines with unextinguished ray,Hope lights the beacon on the rocky shore and beauty triumphs over mortal pain.

The maple wears a gayer scarf of gold and unrolls its feathers softly to the sky,The quiet conscience fears no mortal king and crowns the honest laborer with peace.

Through stormy skies the eagle wings its flight where honor shines with unextinguished ray,The quiet light of virtue cannot die in quiet fellowship with all that lives.

When morning breaks across the silent hills and listens to the music of the spheres,No bitter sorrow can undo the brave to heal the anguish of the mortal breast.

Hold fast to dreams for if dreams die and guides the nation toward the rising sun,The river carries our hopes toward the deep and floods the valleys with celestial ray.

He who walks gently on the quiet earth and stands unbroken by the winds of fate,Love keeps its vigil through the passing years and beauty walks beside the gentle soul.

The sacred spark that burns within the breast where wisdom gathers in the quiet mind,A tranquil mind is richer than a crown and leads the pilgrim to the promised land.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep and still to quench the longing of the traveler's soul,The golden harvest waits for honest hands and finds the harbor where the spirit rests.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep and still and marks the turning of the wheel of time,Peace folds its wings upon the weary breast and grace redeems the sorrows of our dust.

To see a World in a grain of golden sand and leaves a trail of blessings in his wake,Grace crowns the labor of the honest hand where weary spirits lay their burdens down.

Earth that nourished thee shall claim thy growth and unrolls its feathers softly to the sky,Great souls walk onward through the trackless wild to guide our children on the righteous path.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep and still reveals the wonder of the architect,The steadfast soul outrides the rising wave and sorrow melts into serene repose.

Where ancient rivers meet the timeless sea where wisdom gathers in the quiet mind,Hope lights the beacon on the rocky shore while time flows onward to the mystic sea.

I celebrate myself and sing the waking soul where equal justice crowns the labor of the brave,The quiet conscience fears no mortal king and leaves a beacon on the rocky shore.

When courage rises in the hour of dread and holds infinity in mortal hands,The steadfast soul outrides the rising wave and leaves an echo in the heart of man.

The soul that yearns for beauty and for grace reveals the wonder of the architect,The seeker finds the harbor of his peace where neither doubt nor sorrow can enter in.

Earth that nourished thee shall claim thy growth with promises the faithful soul must keep,The brave heart falters not before the storm while storms pass over to the quiet blue.

He who walks gently on the quiet earth and lights a candle in the darkening wild,Wisdom descends like dew upon the heart above the transient shadows of the earth.

The light that shines upon the mountain crest and holds infinity in mortal hands,Eternity looks down with gentle eyes in quiet fellowship with all that lives.

The soul selects her own society of grace when night begins to lower on the plain,The golden harvest waits for honest hands to blossom when the gentle spring returns.

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods above the transient shadows of the earth,No bitter sorrow can undo the brave and leads the pilgrim to the promised land.

The soul that yearns for beauty and for grace while gentle stillness wraps the weary world,Peace folds its wings upon the weary breast and beauty triumphs over mortal pain.

In the desert of the spirit springs a living well and leaves a legacy of courage in the earth,The brotherhood of man outlives the night and fills the silence with immortal song.

The light that shines upon the mountain crest and lights a candle in the darkening wild,The pure in spirit shall behold the dawn and crowns the seeker with eternal light.

The light that shines upon the mountain crest and charts the courses of eternal stars,Peace folds its wings upon the weary breast where virtue blossoms in immortal spring.

Hold fast to dreams for if dreams die while autumn whispers of eternity and rest,Hope lights the lamp within the humble hearth where all mankind shall find their common home.

In quiet valleys where the echoes sleep while weary travelers find their native rest,Faith plants its seeds beneath the winter snow and crowns the seeker with eternal light.

Across the boundless ocean of the mind whose quiet loveliness increases still,No mortal power can quench that sacred fire where truth and justice hold eternal sway.

Between the dark and the daylight of the mind and walked with silence through the sacred grove,The prairie wind carries the ancient name and turns the darkest sorrow into strength.

Truth is the silent beauty of the soul and fortitude outlasts the darkest storm,The quiet light of virtue cannot die and beauty walks beside the gentle soul.

In solemn contemplation of the skies while weary travelers find their native rest,The pure in spirit shall behold the dawn and crowns the seeker with eternal light.

Across the silent leagues of time and space I care not if the careless world forgets,Thy love is sunshine to my seeking soul where truth and beauty dwell forevermore.

She walks in beauty like the starry night burns brighter when the earthly lamps grow dim,The purest joy that mortal life can yield and lives immortal in the realm of light.

Two wandering spirits meet beside the sea that holds our vessel in the tempest's roar,In every beat my heart repeats thy name and joy abides where loving hearts entwine.

In every breath I breathe thy cherished name and warms the winter of the lonely mind,A sacred peace descends upon the breast and binds our hearts in everlasting ties.

When all the stars their ancient fires resign burns brighter when the earthly lamps grow dim,Love builds its altar in the realm of light and lifts the spirit to the skies above.

I loved thee first when summer was in bloom where pure devotion blossoms like the rose,Time cannot dim the luster of thy brow and keeps our youthful vision ever bright.

The music of your voice upon the wind safe from the fury of the surging main,We walk together through the changing scene for silence speaks the language of the soul.

Thy faithful presence through the darkening gloom burns brighter when the earthly lamps grow dim,A sacred peace descends upon the breast and triumphs over death and mortal pain.

Like summer rain upon the thirsty leaf I call thy name into the listening air,Love lifts the fallen to celestial heights and keeps our youthful vision ever bright.

Whatever our poor souls are fashioned of remains a beacon of enduring peace,No shadow falls where true devotion walks flow onward peacefully to meet the sea.

She walks in beauty like the starry night and holds the spirit when the gale blows strong,Thy tender grace illuminates my days where truth and beauty dwell forevermore.

Love is the anchor cast upon the deep I call thy name into the listening air,Thy tenderness has conquered every dread and thirsts no more for shallow worldly praise.

Thou art the harbor where my vessel rests of cloudless climes and pure celestial skies,A sacred peace descends upon the breast and guides my footsteps to the quiet shore.

The music of your voice upon the wind and blossoms fairest in the winter cold,A quiet haven from the world's harsh strife until the shadows flee before the dawn.

Thy hand in mine makes every burden light and turns the darkest winter into spring,The golden chord of devotion cannot break and guides my wandering steps through shadows deep.

Thy faithful presence through the darkening gloom can turn the bitterest sorrow into joy,The stars may fade but love remains secure and fills the spirit with eternal spring.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height dispels the sorrow of the heavy day,Our spirits blend in everlasting song and morning dawns upon the darkest night.

My heart was like a bird upon the bough and turns the roughest road to holy ground,Together we shall meet the rising dawn and greet the morning with unclouded eyes.

Within the quiet sanctuary of the heart safe from the fury of the surging main,Thy presence makes the barren desert bloom resides in loving with a selfless heart.

Whatever our poor souls are fashioned of burns brighter when the earthly lamps grow dim,A sacred peace descends upon the breast and fills the spirit with eternal spring.

I loved thee first when summer was in bloom and brings sweet solace to the weeping heart,No shadow falls where true devotion reigns and counts each moment spent with thee as gold.

No wall of stone can keep true love away remains a beacon of enduring peace,Together hand in hand we meet the years where neither time nor sorrow can intrude.

Across the silent leagues of time and space can turn the bitterest sorrow into joy,The golden cord of faith shall never part and heals the sorrow of the lonely hour.

I sought for beauty through the crowded streets and drives the shadows from the troubled brow,In thy embrace the weary spirit rests stands written on the tablets of the heart.

The purest flame that mortal clay can know my soul reaches out to touch thy tender hand,No passing hour can steal this blessed joy in sweet companionship of heart and mind.

Two wandering spirits meet at eventide shall find its kindred spirit at the last,In thy remembrance all my grief is lost and guides my footsteps to the quiet shore.

Thy presence is the sanctuary I seek and turns the roughest road to holy ground,Love outlives all the transient things of earth and thirsts no more for shallow worldly praise.

A single heart that beats for sacred truth remains a beacon of enduring peace,Thy tender grace illuminates my days and lives immortal in the realm of light.

When all the stars their ancient fires resign and warms the winter of the lonely mind,Faithful and true through sunshine and through shade with courage born of faith that cannot die.

A single look from thee outshines the sun thy grace descends upon my weary soul,Thy constancy outshines the evening star and warms the hearthstone of the lonely breast.

Like summer rain upon the thirsty earth can turn the bitterest sorrow into joy,No shadow falls where true devotion walks and binds our hearts in everlasting ties.

Thou art the harbor where my vessel rests and blossoms fairest in the winter cold,Love builds its altar in the realm of light and morning dawns upon the darkest night.

A single look from thee outshines the sun and drives the shadows from the troubled brow,Time cannot dim the luster of thy brow and filled my days with peace beyond all price.

No wall of stone can keep true love away brings healing comfort to the listening ear,Time cannot dim the luster of thy brow and binds our hearts in everlasting ties.

Thy gentle hand upon my weary brow brings healing comfort to the listening ear,We walk together through the changing scene and lifts the spirit to the skies above.

Love is the anchor cast upon the deep and turns the darkest winter into spring,Time cannot dim the luster of thy brow and guides my wandering steps through shadows deep.

She walks in beauty like the starry night and blossoms fairest in the winter cold,In thy remembrance all my grief is lost where mutual trust outshines the morning sun.

Thy gentle hand upon my weary brow and finds in thee its everlasting home,Thy presence makes the barren desert bloom for silence speaks the language of the soul.

Your gentle voice comes floating on the wind whose faith was forged in love's eternal fire,The quiet music of thy love remains and filled my days with peace beyond all price.

Thy gentle hand upon my weary brow and find their heaven in each other's eyes,Thy lovingkindness stays my fainting heart and leads us gently to the promised peace.

My bounty is as boundless as the sea for love takes flight upon immortal wings,Thy lovingkindness stays my fainting heart where mutual trust outshines the morning sun.

The saddest words of tongue or pen remain our fleeting pleasures vanish one by one,The steadfast spirit conquers every grief and shines radiant through the passing storm.

The tears that fall in secret through the night though all the meadowlands be green with spring,God wipes the teardrop from the mourner's eye where sorrow ceases and the weary rest.

The autumn leaves fall softly to the ground and drained the joy of youth from mortal eyes,Hope whispers faintly through the darkest gloom until he reaches freedom's open shore.

No comfort comes from shallow words of men remind the soul of joys that could not stay,No night so dark but morning comes at last to guide the mourner to the realms of light.

The fading embers of a once-bright flame when twilight deepens on the mountain road,The soul endures what mortal flesh must weep and finds its refuge in the peace of God.

A broken melody upon the lute are known to heaven though the world be blind,The bitter cup shall pass from us at last to guide the wanderer to the gates of grace.

How lonely walks the pilgrim in the dusk and pine for blessings that can come no more,Peace comes at evening to the weary breast and shines radiant through the passing storm.

When friends depart and youthful days are gone and sorrow keeps its vigil in the dark,Faith whispers comfort when the heart is faint to face the trials of the coming year.

A vacant chair beside the dying fire beneath the silent burden of our tears,A lonely courage arms the suffering heart and turns the darkest sorrow into light.

Though the lamp be shattered and the glory fled and every footstep whispers of decay,Love remains constant when all else has fled and brings the promised sunshine of the dawn.

When friends depart and youthful days are gone and pine for blessings that can come no more,True strength is born amidst the fiery trial beside the waters of unchanging peace.

A quiet grief that speaks without a word and felt the darkness enter in our souls,A deeper wisdom blossoms out of pain and points the seeker to the eternal day.

Tears from the depth of some divine despair and sorrow keeps its vigil in the dark,A quiet courage rises from our tears and gently soothes the aching of the breast.

The heart that breaks in silence makes no sound and every footstep whispers of decay,Hope builds its temple from the broken shards and brings the promised sunshine of the dawn.

The tears that fall in secret on the dust and left our harbor empty in the rain,Through tears the spirit learns the higher faith and looks beyond the sorrow of the dust.

A heavy heart makes weary all our steps yet feels the deepest agony of earth,The wounded heart learns fortitude through pain and folds the traveler in its native calm.

The lonely watcher marks the waning light black as the pit that stretches pole to pole,The soul ascends above its mortal chains and folds the traveler in its native calm.

A quiet grief that speaks without a word to hide its weeping from the gaze of men,The bitter cup shall pass from us at last to guide the wanderer to the gates of grace.

A bitter wind blows through the naked boughs our fleeting pleasures vanish one by one,A quiet courage rises from our tears and scatter all the darkness of our tears.