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Russian Winter- Russian Soul

Russian Winter- Russian Soul.

 

The Russian Winter-The Russian Soul

The Russian winter…

It is a hard one.

Epiphany frosts,

The hinterland of Yakutia,

The degrees fall fast,

And the Sun

Forgets Mother Russia.

Yet the winter is often Russia’s greatest ally.

Turning back the Swedes,

While later the winds of December and the gales of January

Saw the Germans starve and surrender at Stalingrad.

The ice and the snow had vanquished the German foes.

The Red Banner flew over the city in triumph.

The descendants of Peter and Catherine had prevailed.

The enemy but destroyed by the snows and ice,

That on many occasions have been Russia’s strongest friends.

The Russian winter is often a white splendor,

Sparkling and glittering in the waning light of the day.

Yet more than that,

It has forged the Russian soul,

A soul that runs deeper and wider

Then those in other places.

A soul with the capacity to love, to fight, to seek, to feel the life

To know the life and understand it.

Yes from the winter, the cold, the fury,

Comes the Russian soul

It is the Russian winter

That sets apart the Russian soul

And makes the Russian man and the Russian woman

Sparkle like bright stars

Amidst the Milky Way

At times the same as all the rest

But for all time always different

James Tucci

Miami, Florida

October 4, 2013

 

The Russian Winter. It is not an easy one.

The Russian Winter. It is not an easy one.

The Russian Winter

For a visitor to Moscow,
Whether it be from the States or Western Europe,
The city is at first a bit daunting
And seemingly closed to strangers.
But once that initial contact is made,
From one person to another,
It is readily apparent
That no matter our place of origin
Nor where we make our home,
We emanate from the one
And it is here in Moscow that we form the one.
We are all children of the universe
And Gogol’s Russian soul runs deep
In this very cold and beautiful world.
I left my time in Moscow
With the words of Pushkin pulsating in my heart
“I Loved You.”

James Tucci 2013

The End of Summer- by James Tucci

The End of Summer- by James Tucci.

The End of Summer

The bay was rather still

It doesn’t blow most days till the afternoon

The leaves on the trees slightly moved

They would be turning orange and red in another few weeks.

The sand was still hot in the afternoon

And the skies were blue

White clouds floated around

These were the waning days of summer

He lived for the summertime

And soon it would be over

The first chill in the air was only a week or two away

Fall, winter and spring were on their way

Bringing the cold, the gray, the rain and the snow

The leaves on the trees would be on the lawns and in the gutter

The sands on the beach would be cold and damp

People would be wearing their coats and jackets

The sad part was

Another summer of his life was about to go away

Never to return

These days would turn to memories

No longer the glorious moments

In time and space that he so enjoyed

When the air was fresh and salty and filled with the scents of the grass and the flowers

All he was left with

Was to pine for the next summer

But in a short amount of time

It too would disappear

Never to return

And someday

Like the sunny summer

He would disappear

by James Tucci

Miami, Florida

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