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In life Fedora Tyutcheva there were four women, for each of whom he felt very tender and sublime feelings. His first marriage to the German Countess Eleanor Peterson was so happy and serene that for two long decades this woman became his only muse. During this period, the poet dedicated all his poems in the genre of love lyrics to his chosen one, whom he considered ideal in all respects. He admired everything about his wife - facial expressions, laughter, tilt of the head and, especially, the eyes, which were capable of conveying the whole gamut of feelings and emotions. In 1836, Tyutchev wrote a poem in which he tried to recreate the captivating image of his wife, capable of winning his heart with just one glance.
The poet characterizes the play of this woman’s eyes as “fiery and wonderful.” It can be bold and defiant, or reminiscent of heavenly lightning, when the beloved looks around “quickly the whole circle.” However, the poet is much more impressed by the “downcast eyes,” in which one can read indecision, embarrassment, excitement and hidden passion. At this moment, the chosen one is full of special charm, which is characteristic of only a few women endowed with a bright temperament. They are like a volcano and it is never possible to predict what might happen next. This is what so delights the poet in his wife, who with just one glance can kindle in him the “gloomy, dull fire of desire” and give him unforgettable moments of pleasure.
Being a passionate and amorous person, Tyutchev in his life he attached great importance to little things. One gesture could tell him much more about a person than a thousand words devoid of meaning and truth. Therefore, the poet preferred to “read” women by their eyes, but at the same time admitted that his wife Eleanor, even after many years of marriage, was a “closed book” for him. In an attempt to find the treasured key to her soul, the poet spent a lot of time in the company of his chosen ones, watching her furtively and each time never tired of being amazed at how multifaceted and unpredictable this woman is. But over time, Tyutchev still learned to catch the mood of his beloved by the slight flutter of eyelashes or an eyebrow arched in mockery, and rightfully considered this his small victory. As for Eleanor Peterson, until her death she preferred to remain a mystery to her husband, and took the secret of her heart to the grave.
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Fyodor Ivanovich Tyutchev
I love your eyes, my friend,
With their fiery and wonderful game,
When you suddenly lift them up
And, like lightning from heaven,
Take a quick look around the whole circle...
But there is a stronger charm:
Eyes downcast
In moments of passionate kissing,
And through drooping eyelashes
A gloomy, dim fire of desire.
Eleanor Peterson - Tyutcheva. Watercolor by P. Sokolov
In the life of Fyodor Tyutchev there were four women, for each of whom he experienced very tender and sublime feelings. His first marriage to the German Countess Eleanor Peterson was so happy and serene that for two long decades this woman became his only muse. During this period, the poet dedicated all his poems in the genre of love lyrics to his chosen one, whom he considered ideal in all respects. He admired everything about his wife - facial expressions, laughter, tilt of the head and, especially, the eyes, which were capable of conveying the whole gamut of feelings and emotions. In 1836, Tyutchev wrote the poem “I love your eyes, my friend...”, in which he tried to recreate the captivating image of his wife, capable of winning his heart with just one look.
The poet characterizes the play of this woman’s eyes as “fiery and wonderful.” It can be bold and defiant, or reminiscent of heavenly lightning, when the beloved looks around “quickly the whole circle.” However, the poet is much more impressed by the “downcast eyes,” in which one can read indecision, embarrassment, excitement and hidden passion. At this moment, Tyutchev’s chosen one is full of a special charm, which is characteristic of only a few women endowed with a bright temperament. They are like a volcano and it is never possible to predict what might happen next. This is what so delights the poet in his wife, who with just one glance can kindle in him the “gloomy, dull fire of desire” and give him unforgettable moments of pleasure.
Being a passionate and amorous person, Tyutchev attached great importance to little things in his life. One gesture could tell him much more about a person than a thousand words devoid of meaning and truth. Therefore, the poet preferred to “read” women by their eyes, but at the same time admitted that his wife Eleanor, even after many years of marriage, was a “closed book” for him. In an attempt to find the treasured key to her soul, the poet spent a lot of time in the company of his chosen one, watching her furtively and each time never tired of being amazed at how multifaceted and unpredictable this woman is. But over time, Tyutchev still learned to catch the mood of his beloved by the slight flutter of eyelashes or an eyebrow arched in mockery, and rightfully considered this his small victory. As for Eleanor Peterson, until her death she preferred to remain a mystery to her husband, and took the secret of her heart to the grave.
“I love your eyes, my friend...” Fyodor Tyutchev
I love your eyes, my friend,
With their fiery and wonderful game,
When you suddenly lift them up
And, like lightning from heaven,
Take a quick look around the whole circle...But there is a stronger charm:
Eyes downcast
In moments of passionate kissing,
And through drooping eyelashes
A gloomy, dim fire of desire.
Analysis of Tyutchev’s poem “I love your eyes, my friend...”
In the life of Fyodor Tyutchev there were four women, for each of whom he experienced very tender and sublime feelings. His first marriage to the German Countess Eleanor Peterson was so happy and serene that for two long decades this woman became his only muse. During this period, the poet dedicated all his poems in the genre of love lyrics to his chosen one, whom he considered ideal in all respects. He admired everything about his wife - facial expressions, laughter, tilt of the head and, especially, the eyes, which were capable of conveying the whole gamut of feelings and emotions. In 1836, Tyutchev wrote the poem “I love your eyes, my friend...”, in which he tried to recreate the captivating image of his wife, capable of winning his heart with just one look.
The poet characterizes the play of this woman’s eyes as “fiery and wonderful.” It can be bold and defiant, or reminiscent of heavenly lightning, when the beloved looks around “quickly the whole circle.” However, the poet is much more impressed by the “downcast eyes,” in which one can read indecision, embarrassment, excitement and hidden passion. At this moment, Tyutchev’s chosen one is full of a special charm, which is characteristic of only a few women endowed with a bright temperament. They are like a volcano and it is never possible to predict what might happen next. This is what so delights the poet in his wife, who with just one glance can kindle in him the “gloomy, dull fire of desire” and give him unforgettable moments of pleasure.
Being a passionate and amorous person, Tyutchev attached great importance to little things in his life. One gesture could tell him much more about a person than a thousand words devoid of meaning and truth. Therefore, the poet preferred to “read” women by their eyes, but at the same time admitted that his wife Eleanor, even after many years of marriage, was a “closed book” for him. In an attempt to find the treasured key to her soul, the poet spent a lot of time in the company of his chosen ones, watching her furtively and each time never tired of being amazed at how multifaceted and unpredictable this woman is. But over time, Tyutchev still learned to catch the mood of his beloved by the slight flutter of eyelashes or an eyebrow arched in mockery, and rightfully considered this his small victory. As for Eleanor Peterson, until her death she preferred to remain a mystery to her husband, and took the secret of her heart to the grave.
I love your eyes, my friend,
With their fiery and wonderful game,
When you suddenly lift them up
And, like lightning from heaven,
Take a quick look around the whole circle...
But there is a stronger charm:
Eyes downcast
In moments of passionate kissing,
And through drooping eyelashes
A gloomy, dim fire of desire.
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