Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, SONGS OF THE RUSSIAN PEOPLE: 13, by ANONYMOUS


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

SONGS OF THE RUSSIAN PEOPLE: 13, by                    
First Line: In the house of my own father
Last Line: "I shall have to dry you, o ruddy tresses, / in the longing of my grief"
Subject(s): Grief;russia; Sorrow;sadness;soviet Union;russians


IN the house of my own father,
In the house of my own mother,
I used to comb you, O ruddy tresses,
Amidst the oaks afield.
I used to wash you, O ruddy tresses,
In fountain water cool.
I used to dry you, O ruddy tresses,
On the steep red steps in front of the house,
In the rosy light of the rising sun.
But now in that unknown, far-off land,
In the house of my husband's father,
In the house of my husband's mother,
I shall have to comb you, O ruddy tresses,
Within a curtained recess.
I shall have to wash you, O ruddy tresses,
In the wave of my bitter tears.
I shall have to dry you, O ruddy tresses,
In the longing of my grief.





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