Speak not, lie hidden, and conceal
the way you dream, the things you feel.
Deep in your spirit let them rise
akin to stars in crystal skies
that set before the night is blurred:
delight in them and speak no word.
How can a heart expression find?
How should another know your mind?
Will he discern what quickens you?
A thought once uttered is untrue.
Dimmed is the fountainhead when stirred:
drink at the source and speak no word.
Live in your inner self alone
within your soul a world has grown,
the magic of veiled thoughts that might
be blinded by the outer light,
drowned in the noise of day, unheard...
take in their song and speak no word.
Translated by V.Nabokov
Молчи, скрывайся и таи
И чувства и мечты свои -
Пускай в душевной глубине
Встают и заходят оне
Безмолвно, как звезды в ночи, -
Любуйся ими - и молчи.
Как сердцу высказать себя?
Другому как понять тебя?
Поймет ли он, чем ты живешь?
Мысль изреченная есть ложь.
Взрывая, возмутишь ключи, -
Питайся ими - и молчи.
Лишь жить в себе самом умей -
Есть целый мир в душе твоей
Их оглушит наружный шум,
Дневные разгонят лучи, -
Внимай их пенью и молчи!..
Fyodor Tyutchev is a Russian poet, and he isn't much different from poets around the globe. His work is showcased above. He lived from 1803-1873, and is widely renowned for his romantic style. Although this is only one translation of Silentium, is keeps the flow and rhyming aspect of the original. Below is a second translation that keeps the same ideas as the first, but does not have the rhyming component.
Be silent, hide yourself, keep in Your feelings and your sacred dream – And let them, quiet, rise and set, Soundlessly – in your heart’s depth, Like stars do on the nightly rut: Admire them, but just be mute. How could your heart express its view? Could any other feel like you? Will he discern your base of life? The word, pronounced, is a lie; While stirring springs, you’ll cloud flood: Drink their water, but be mute. Within yourself, keep life in hold: Your soul is a whole world Of thoughts of mystery and charm, They will be sunk in daily hum, And scattered by the sun’s rays, rude: Hark to their song, and just be mute. Translated by Yevgeny Bonver