An Evil Dream
Based on the Russian folk song: Oy, To Ne Vecher
I had a dream, an evil dream
For as the night was falling I
Rode out upon the steppe, it seemed
As if the world itself would die
My horse, my crow-black horse began
To shiver underneath my grip,
And then in some dread fright he ran
Blood and foam around the bit
And then as if in swift attack
A fearful wind rose in the east,
My horse began to arch his back
And buck like some demented beast
The wind blew up into a gale
And snatched the cap from off my brow,
What fever dream this gruesome tale?
What prophecies do dreams allow?
Master, here’s the sense I feel
The wind is death, the cap your head
Which you will lose to sharpened steel,
So that to you the world is dead
Pavel
August 14, 2011