Autumn Frost

The morning sun shows like a pillar
Of fire through smoke on frosty days.
As on a faulty snap, it cannot
Make out my features in the haze.

The distant trees will hardly see me
Until the sun at last can break
Out of the fog, and flash triumphant
Upon the meadows by the lake.

A passer-by in mist receding
Is recognized when he has passed.
You walk on hoarfrost-covered pathways
As though on mats of plaited bast.

The frost is covered up in gooseflesh,
The air is false like painted cheeks,
The earth is shivering, and sick of
Breathing potato-stalks for weeks.

by Boris Pasternak

Other poems of PASTERNAK (122)

Comments (1)

wowww! ... this one's amazing... thats my one of my favorite scenes in the movie... nice to read a poet's response to it... n i like the way u hv woven a few catchphrases from the movie in your poem... Asma...