"Meditation on the Majesty of God" - Poem by 18th Century Russian poet, Mikhail Lomonosov
Background and Meaning
Here is an 18th Century Russian poem about the beauty and intelligibility of nature which cannot help but reflect the greatness of God. The setting of the poem is a winter's night in which the author witnesses the Northern Lights, or Aurea Borealis. "At night what vibrates lucid rays? What subtle flame cuts firmament? And without stormy thunderclouds Wherefrom does lightning rush to earth? How can it be that frozen steam In midst of winter brings forth fire?" This amazing phenomena causes his to wonder at the immensity of creation. Like many of the 17th and 18th Century scientists, he believes that the intelligibility of the laws and design of nature manifests the intelligent mind of God. "But where, O Nature, is your law? The dawn comes up from northern lands! Does not the sun set there its throne? Do icy seas not stir the fire? We have been cloaked by a cold flame! At night day came upon the earth! O You, whose swift gaze penetrates The volume of eternal laws, To whom the small sign of a thing Reveals a principle of life: To you the planets' course is known, What is it so disturbs us, tell?"
Yet this intelligibility extends so far beyond even the longest reach of man's mind. "A grain of sand in waves of sea, A small spark in eternal ice, A light dust in a roaring wind, A feather in a raging fire Am I, engulfed in this abyss, As worn by thought, I lose my way. The mouths of sages do proclaim A multitude of worlds are there; Innumerable suns burn bright; And people live and die as we; And to God's glory evermore, There nature has an equal force." He speculates that maybe there are innumerable worlds in which God has created and people live just as we do. Nature is this vast creation which manifests God's glory to untold corners of the universe and people. There is still so much to discover. "Your answer is replete with doubts About the places nearest man. Pray tell us, how vast is the world? What lies beyond the smallest stars? Is creatures' end unknown to You? Pray tell how great is God Himself?"
Evening Meditation on the Majesty of God On the Occasion of the Great Northern Lights
The day conceals its countenance,
Dark night has covered over fields;
Black shade has climbed the mountain's heights;
The sun's rays have inclined from us;
A star-filled vault has opened up;
No number is there to the stars,
No bottom is there to the vault.
A grain of sand in waves of sea,
A small spark in eternal ice,
A light dust in a roaring wind,
A feather in a raging fire
Am I, engulfed in this abyss,
As worn by thought, I lose my way.
The mouths of sages do proclaim
A multitude of worlds are there;
Innumerable suns burn bright;
And people live and die as we;
And to God's glory evermore,
There nature has an equal force.
But where, O Nature, is your law?
The dawn comes up from northern lands!
Does not the sun set there its throne?
Do icy seas not stir the fire?
We have been cloaked by a cold flame!
At night day came upon the earth!
O You, whose swift gaze penetrates
The volume of eternal laws,
To whom the small sign of a thing
Reveals a principle of life:
To you the planets' course is known,
What is it so disturbs us, tell?
At night what vibrates lucid rays?
What subtle flame cuts firmament?
And without stormy thunderclouds
Wherefrom does lightning rush to earth?
How can it be that frozen steam
In midst of winter brings forth fire?
There quarrel water and dense fog,
Or glimmer rays from out the sun
Inclining to us through thick air.
Or tops of fertile mountains burn;
Or zephyrs cease to blow the sea,
And tranquil waves the ether beat.
Your answer is replete with doubts
About the places nearest man.
Pray tell us, how vast is the world?
What lies beyond the smallest stars?
Is creatures' end unknown to You?
Pray tell how great is God Himself?
Вечернее размышление о божием величестве...
Михаил Ломоносов
Лице свое скрывает день;
Поля покрыла мрачна ночь;
Взошла на горы черна тень;
Лучи от нас склонились прочь;
Открылась бездна звезд полна;
Звездам числа нет, бездне дна.
Песчинка как в морских волнах,
Как мала искра в вечном льде,
Как в сильном вихре тонкий прах,
В свирепом как перо огне,
Так я, в сей бездне углублен,
Теряюсь, мысльми утомлен!
Уста премудрых нам гласят:
Там разных множество светов;
Несчетны солнца там горят,
Народы там и круг веков:
Для общей славы божества
Там равна сила естества.
Но где ж, натура, твой закон?
С полночных стран встает заря!
Не солнце ль ставит там свой трон?
Не льдисты ль мещут огнь моря?
Се хладный пламень нас покрыл!
Се в ночь на землю день вступил!
О вы, которых быстрый зрак
Пронзает в книгу вечных прав,
Которым малый вещи знак
Являет естества устав,
Вам путь известен всех планет,-
Скажите, что нас так мятет?
Что зыблет ясный ночью луч?
Что тонкий пламень в твердь разит?
Как молния без грозных туч
Стремится от земли в зенит?
Как может быть, чтоб мерзлый пар
Среди зимы рождал пожар?
Там спорит жирна мгла с водой;
Иль солнечны лучи блестят,
Склонясь сквозь воздух к нам густой;
Иль тучных гор верхи горят;
Иль в море дуть престал зефир,
И гладки волны бьют в эфир.
Сомнений полон ваш ответ
О том, что окрест ближних мест.
Скажите ж, коль пространен свет?
И что малейших дале звезд?
Несведом тварей вам конец?
Скажите ж, коль велик творец?
1 - Segel, Harold. The Literature of Eighteenth-Century Russia: A History and Anthology by Harold B. Segel Volume I. Mikhail Lomonosov. Evening Meditation on the Majesty of God On the Occasion of the Great Northern Lights. Dutton and Co. Inc. (New York, 1967). Pgs. 202 - 205.
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