Aleksandr Pushkin "Worse Than an Idyl..." 1815-1816 Worse than an idyl and colder than an ode, A misanthrope – by Hell, by Silliness – a bard – In what a terrible and quite mischievous mode Has Nature raised her ugly ward! You are afraid of men, as of some deathly illness, Oh, miserable sample of the appalling dream! Be joyuos, evil fool! You will be ne’er sun-beamed By love or friendship through existence. Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, March 28, 2005 Aleksandr Pushkin The Tokens of Superstition I drove to you: my dreams were bright And winding behind me like playing; The crescent, set on my right side, Was gaily following my traveling. I drove back: my dreams were blind, My loving soul was in sadness; The crescent, set on my left side, Was accompanying me – the hapless. Thus, in a silence, every bard Falls in his dreams’ eternal vision; Thus tokens of superstition, Well-coincide with moods of heart. Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, March 6, 2003 Aleksandr Pushkin To Morpheus Oh, Morpheus, give me joy till morning For my forever painful love: Just blow out candles mourning And let my dreams in blessing move. Let from my soul disappear The separation’s sharp rebuke! And let me see that dear look, And let me hear voice that dear. And when will vanish dark of night And you will free my eyes at leaving, Oh, if my heart would have a right To lose its love till dark of evening! Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, January, 2000 Aleksandr Pushkin "When Your So Young and Fairy Years…" 1829 When your so young and fairy years Are smeared by the gossip’s noise, And by the high word’s trial, fierce, Your public honor’s fully lost; Alone midst indifferent crowds, I share with you your soul’s pains, And just for you my prayers, loud, Are send to idols, void of sense. But the high world … His accusations, How cruel they are, he’d ne’er take back: He doesn’t root out the blind transgressions, But bids to hide the sinful tracks. They’re worth of quite the same aversion – His secret and so vain-full love, And hypocritical damnation: Try to forget the whole stuff. Don’t drink the poison, outrageous; Leave that high circle, bright and close; Leave crazy merriments and pleasures: You still have one good friend of yours. Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, July 11, 2004
Posted on: Thu, 05 Sep 2013 12:24:31 +0000
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