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As I have been having a Russian reading phase (only in translation unfortunately) and feeling gradually more wintry, the weather has now accompanied my mood. Osip Mandelstam’s Journey to Armenia,  which I am currently reading, does not have any appropriate quotes so I have looked for a poem by him instead:

‘Like a belated gift,’

 Like a belated gift,

Winter’s palpable to me:

and I’m in love with

it’s first uncertain sweep.

It’s terror’s beautiful,

like the start of what’s dreadful:

even the ravens fearful

of its leafless circle.

But most intense, fragile –

is its bulging blueness:

half-formed ice, that fills

the river, lulling, sleepless…

 

However I thought I would choose an image with more of a hint of Spring!

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