Valery Bryusov, a Symbolist poet, is known for his attention to female beauty and complex psychology. However, among his extensive oeuvre, a special place is occupied by poems dedicated to a specific woman – his muse, Ida Lvovna Guber. These works are not simply declarations of love but also subtle analyses of the female soul, expressed in exquisite form and filled with symbolic imagery. In this collection, we present a selection of Bryusov's poems inspired by Ida Guber, revealing various facets of her personality and her influence on the poet's work.
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Ide
You are the twilight of eternal, secret beauty, You hold a riddle that cannot be solved. And in your pale, flexible lines, your features know how to quietly hold the heart. Your gaze is like the reflection of stars in the night distance, It contains detachment, sorrow, and a quiet light. And your lips, silent yet so alluring, Hold an unspoken, secret delirium. You are a sphinx slumbering in the age-old darkness, And I am a mad traveler before you.
To Ida
In your eyes is the azure of alien worlds, In them is the echo of songs, the whisper of ancient dreams. And I, captivated by wondrous magic, In your soul I seek heavenly shelter. You are the embodiment of a pale, unearthly dream that slips away like a mirage. And your voice, like a bell of heat, Begets a quiet guardian in my soul.
Portrait of Ida
On the canvas are sadness and silence, and a pale profile, thin and straight. In the eyes is depth, like the depth of forgotten secrets, gone with them. In the curves of the lips is an unspoken sigh, in the features is a mysterious peace. And it seems that in this quiet breath, all the beauty of the world is contained within you.
Night Muse
When the moon silvers the window, and shadows dance in the dim rooms, you come, quiet as wine, and give the aroma of inspiration. Your words are like the music of the spheres, in them is an echo of eternity and a secret call. And I, a poet, captivated by your spheres, find my refuge in your eyes.
Pale Lily
Like a pale lily in the stillness of the night, you bloom, tender and fragile. And in the pale light of the moonlit heights, your beauty fades. Your fragrance is like the spirit of bygone days, echoing sadness, sorrow, and grief. And I, a poet, captivated by your shadows, seek my berth in your eyes.
Meeting
In a random crowd, in the dim light of a café, I suddenly met your gaze, sad, clear. And like a flash in the gloom, a secret previously unknown to me was revealed. Your features are like a chiseled figure, in them—pride, strength, and silent reproach. And I, a poet, am ready to give you the entire depth of my soul, all my vastness.
Parting
You've gone into the distance, like a ghost, like a dream, Leaving only melancholy and coldness in my heart. And it seems that my life is empty, And the world around me has become forever silent. Your pale image haunts me, In nightmares, in the morning dew. And I, a poet, pray in despair, To see the light again in your beauty.
Your Dream
I had a dream where you were flying in a dream, Over dark forests, over a stormy sea. And in the pale moonlight, as in the mist, Your image eludes, elusive. Your words are like the whisper of a breeze, In them is an echo of mystery, sadness, and sorrow. And I, a poet, captivated by your dream, Seek my berth in your eyes.
Ida. Evening.
In the evening haze, pale and quiet, you sit by the window, lost in strange reverie. And in your eyes, as in mirrors, is visible a yearning for peace, for the love you desire. Your lips are silent, but they speak of the secrets of the heart, of broken dreams. And I, a poet, am ready to give you the whole depth of my soul, all my hidden strength.
Inspiration
When silence comes to me, and thoughts wander in the dim rooms, you, like a vision, appear in full, and bestow the aroma of inspiration. Your words are like the music of the spheres, in them is an echo of eternity and a secret call. And I, a poet, captivated by your spheres, find my shelter in your eyes.
Ida's Shadow
A pale shadow wanders through the garden, recalling a fleeting image. And in the quiet whisper of autumn days, I hear your voice, beckoning me. Your features are like a chiseled figure, in them—pride, strength, and silent reproach. And I, a poet, am ready to give you the entire depth of my soul, all my vastness.
Forgotten Portrait
In a dusty attic, in a forgotten corner, I found your portrait, faded with time. And in the pale light, as if in a dream, I saw your sadness and humility. Your gaze is like the reflection of stars in the night distance, In it – detachment, sorrow, and a quiet light. And lips that are silent, yet so beckoning, Keep an unspoken, secret delirium.
Elegy of Ida
The roses have faded in the pale garden, And yellow leaves swirl in the silence. So my love, in bitter melancholy, Fadeth into the distance, into unknown days. Your pale image haunts me, In nightmares, in the morning dew. And I, a poet, pray in despair, To see the light again in your beauty.
The Last Meeting
I saw you for the last time, standing by the window, in quiet sorrow. And like a premonition of the coming day, a chill settled on my heart, as in a cruel grave. Your lips are silent, but they speak, of the secrets of the heart, of broken dreams. And I, a poet, am ready to give you the whole depth of my soul, all my hidden strength.