Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE COTTAGE, by YEVGENY ALEXANDROVICH YEVTUSHENKO


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE COTTAGE, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: So again the fisherman's cottage
Last Line: Watch us adults day and night.
Alternate Author Name(s): Evtushenko, Evgeni


So again the fisherman's cottage
Welcomed me, a tardy guest,
And at once revived forgotten
Memories within my breast.
In a corner I lay quietly
Just as many years before
In my corner I slept lightly
On the rough familiar floor.
Here I felt at home, unshackled,
Cleansed, exalted through and through
By the scent of fish, tobacco,
Children, kittens, cabbage stew.
Snoring loudly was the fisherman
While the children with soft tread,
Clenching in their teeth hot fritters,
Climbed up on the oven-bed.
Only the woman was not idle,
Washing pots and scrubbing pans,
Wielding broom and fork and needle,
Never empty were her hands
Angrily Pechora spluttered,
Suddenly kicked up a row.
"Up to tricks!" the woman muttered,
As if chiding her brown cow.
Blowing at the smoky taper,
Out she went and in the gloom
Washtub sounds of slopping-slapping
Carried from the other room.
Wall clock tick-tocked in the darkness,
Hauling history along.
From the fresh-cut splinter sparkling
Rays of fairy whiteness shone.
Wild and timid, full of wonder,
Like the rainbow spray that flies
High above Pechora's thunder,
In the dark blazed eight dark eyes.
Craning necks and straining elbows
From remote infinity,
Four small wide-eyed Yevtushenkos
Scrutinized the grown-up me.
And a prayer for them I uttered,
Stirring not and feigning sleep,
Then the slopping stopped abruptly
And I heard the door-hinge creak
And I felt, as I lay silent,
Stimulating drowsiness,
Like a memory of childhood --
A light touch of tenderness.
On my limbs the soft warm wrapping
Of a shabby sheepskin loomed.
Then again the slopping-slapping
Washtub lullaby resumed.
Busy hands were whirling, twirling
Sheet and napkin, shirt and gown,
While the world in passion swirling
Fussed and bustled all around.
Many a vain, grimacing blusterer
Seeks to glorify his name,
But it is the humble launderer
Who enjoys undying fame.
My awareness of the quality
Multitudinous of fate
Is awareness of the cottage
Where the woman bears the weight,
Where, with eyes that glimpse dim vistas
To be brought to life and light,
Millions of us young children
Watch us adults day and night.





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