Sail

Sailboat by Natalya Goncharova

by Mikhail Lermontov, 1832-1834  
translated from the Russian by Alfia Wallace, 2011
 

The lonely sail whitely widens

in the fog of the deep blue sea!

What is it seeking in a land so distant?

What has it left in its native city?..

The waves are playful, the wind it whistles,

The mast it bends and bends and squeaks..

Alas, it seeks not joy, nor fortune

Nor from joy and chance retreats. 

Above it shines a sun so golden,

The brightest lapis streams beneath,

And he, a rebel, invites the tempest,

As if in storms he will find peace.

Парус 
 

The Storm on the Sea of Galilee 
by Rembrandt van Rijn 1633

Белеет парус одинокий
В тумане моря голубом!
Что ищет он в стране далекой?
Что кинул он в краю родном?..

Играют волны - ветер свищет,
И мачта гнется и скрипит...
Увы, - он счастия не ищет
И не от счастия бежит!

Под ним струя светлей лазури,
Над ним луч солнца золотой...
А он, мятежный, просит бури,
Как будто в бурях есть покой.

Soviet-era Limericks

Here are some translations I did of Russian chastushki from the Soviet era. The chastushka is a form of Russian folk verse, often sung to the strains of a guitar, balalaika or accordion.

Red cow of the collective farm, we all admire
How you give us milk and lots of fertilizer.
Instead of being fed, you were sent to school for Marxists,
Labor leaders are still awaiting cream because of this.
The whole collective farm is very, very proud of you,
Oh horned one, you're our very own main attraction true.
For in response to Lenin's own appeal throughout the land,
You heaped a load of fertilizer on the socialist plan.

What sort of Bolshevik is this
Climbing on the armored car?
He wears a little buttoned cap,
He can’t pronounce the letter r.
His arm is lifted to the sky,
Can you guess who this is? Try!
A car is standing on the hill,But with no tires it won't go far,All the tires were dragged away,
To make condoms for our collective farm.

Illustrations by Herb Allred
More of my Частушки translations

Deep in Siberian Mines (Pushkin)

Deep in Siberian mines
by Aleksandr Pushkin, 1827
translated by Alfia Wallace

Deep in Siberian mines
hold your proud endurance high,
Your woe-filled work will not be lost
nor the striving of your mind.

Misfortune's stalwart sister,
Hope, lurks in dungeons' gloom,
she'll waken and you'll jump for joy,
so know the wished-for day will come:
Love and friendship will o'errun you
through the sombre, shackled gates,
As my free voice now comes to you
through these craggy grates.

Your leaden chains fall to the floor,
your prison will collapse -
as freedom greets you at the door -
your brothers hand you a sword.


Во глубине сибирских руд...

Во глубине сибирских руд
Храните гордое терпенье,
Не пропадет ваш скорбный труд
И дум высокое стремленье.
Несчастью верная сестра,
Надежда в мрачном подземелье
Разбудит бодрость и веселье,
Придет желанная пора:
Любовь и дружество до вас
Дойдут сквозь мрачные затворы,
Как в ваши каторжные норы
Доходит мой свободный глас.
Оковы тяжкие падут,
Темницы рухнут - и свобода
Вас примет радостно у входа,
И братья меч вам отдадут.
1827

Images: Abandoned Siberian mine from the 1930's; Old Siberian house

Gypsy Wedding (Marina Tsvetaeva)

Gypsy Wedding
by Marina Tsvetaeva
June 25, 1917
translated by Alfia Wallace

Hooves dance -
Filth flies!
Before her face -
a shawl, a shield.
Lose the children
Go on, betrothed!
Hey, take them now,
Disheveled steed!

Dad and Mom
denied our freedom,
now the field full and spread
will be our newly wedded bed!

Drunk without wine and full without bread
The gypsy wedding steams on ahead!

The glass filled up,
The glass drunk down,
Guitar and moon and dirt all drone -
The whole camp sways to right, to left,
A gypsy on a prince's throne!
A prince a gypsy has become!

Hey, mister - careful, how it burns!
That's how the wedding drinks it down.

There, in a heap
of shawls and furs -
bells and murmurs,
swords and lips.
The clanging of spurs,
the answer - a necklace.

Beneath someone's arm,
a whistling of silk.
Someone's howling like a wolf.
Snores from someone, like a bull.
Now the gypsy wedding lulls to sleep.

Цыганская свадьба

Из-под копыт -
Грязь летит!
Перед лицом -
Шаль, как щит.
Без молодых
Гуляйте, сваты!
Эй, выноси,
Конь косматый!
Не дали воли нам
Отец и мать -
Целое поле нам -
Брачная кровать!
Пьян без вина и без хлеба сыт -
Это цыганская свадьба мчит!
Полон стакан.
Пуст стакан.
Гомон гитарный, луна и грязь.
Вправо и влево качнулся стан:
Князем - цыган!
Цыганом - князь!
Эй, господин, берегись - жжет!
Это цыганская свадьба пьет.
Там, на ворохе
Шалей и шуб -
Звон и шорох
Стали и губ.
Звякнули шпоры,
В ответ мониста.
Скрипнул под чьей-то рукою -
Шелк.
Кто-то завыл, как волк,
Кто-то - как бык - храпит.
Это цыганская свадьба спит.

25 июня 1917

Night, Street, Lamp and Pharmacy (Aleksandr Blok)

Night, Street, Lamp, Pharmacy by Alexander Blok
October 10, 1912
Translated from Russian by Alfia Wallace

Night, Street, Lamp and Pharmacy
A light so senseless and so slight
That forty years of legacy
will be the same - no chance of flight.
You'll die - and then you'll start again
It all repeats, an ancient stamp,
Night, icy ripple of canal,
Pharmacy, Street and Lamp.

---

Ночь, улица, фонарь, аптека,
Бессмысленный и тусклый свет.
Живи еще хоть четверть века -
Все будет так. Исхода нет.

Умрешь - начнешь опять сначала
И повторится все, как встарь:
Ночь, ледяная рябь канала,
Аптека, улица, фонарь.

Drugstore by Edward Hopper, 1927