I have seen other translations of this Russian poem by Fyodor Tyutchev, but Robert Chandler’s version is my favourite http://www.theguardian.com/books/2015/feb/21/saturday-poem-silentium-by-fyodor-tyutchev-robert-chandler


Be silent, hide away and let

your thoughts and longings rise and set

in the deep places of your heart.

Let dreams move silently as stars,

in wonder more than you can tell.

Let them fulfil you – and be still.


What heart can ever speak its mind?

How can some other understand

the hidden pole that turns your life?

A thought, once spoken, is a lie.

Don’t cloud the water in your well;

drink from this wellspring – and be still.


Live in yourself. There is a whole

deep world of being in your soul,

burdened with mystery and thought.

The noise outside will snuff it out.

Day’s clear light can break the spell.

Hear your own singing – and be still.


Fyodor Tyutchev, translated by Robert Chandler