who can hear its silent cry?

Alan Bold's marvelous 1988 biography (pictured), of Hugh MacDiarmid, contains many references to the influence of 'silence' on MacDiarmid's verse - and in particular his fascination with the work of Fyodor Tyutchev ...

... thus, here once again, is my favourite translation of what is probably Tyutchev's most famous poem:


Silentium

Be silent, hidden, and conceal
Whate'er you dream, whate'er you feel.
Oh, let your visions rise and die
Within your heart's unfathomed sky,
Like stars that take night's darkened route.
Admire and scan them and be mute.

The heart was born dumb; who can sense
Its tremors, recondite and tense?
And who can hear its silent cry?
A thought when spoken is a lie.
Uncovered springs men will pollute,
Drink hidden waters, and be mute.

Your art shall inner living be.
The world within your fantasy
A kingdom is that waits its Saul.
The outer din shall still its call,
Day's glare its secret suns confute.
Oh, quaff its singing, and be mute.

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Fyodor Tyutchev (1803 - 1873)

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