Быть нежной, бешеной и шумной,
— Так жаждать жить! —
Очаровательной и умной,
—Прелестной быть!
Нежнее всех, кто есть и были,
Не знать вины...
— О возмущенье, что в могиле
Мы все равны!
Стать тем, что никому не мило,
— О, стать как лед!
—Не зная ни того, что было,
Ни что придет,
Забыть, как сердце раскололось
И вновь срослось,
Забыть свои слова и голос,
И блеск волос.
Браслет из бирюзы старинной
—На стебельке,
На этой узкой, этой длинной
Моей руке...
Как зарисовывая тучку
Издалека,
За перламутровую ручку
Бралась рука,
Как перепрыгивали ноги
Через плетень,
Забыть, как рядом по дороге
Бежала тень.
Забыть, как пламенно в лазури,
Kак дни тихи...
— Все шалости свои, все бури
И все стихи!
Мое свершившееся чудо
Разгонит смех.
Я, вечно-розовая, буду
Бледнее всех.
И не раскроются — так надо —
— О, пожалей!
—Ни для заката, ни для взгляда,
Ни для полей
—Мои опущенные веки.
— Ни для цветка!
—Моя земля, прости навеки,
На все века.
И так же будут таять луны
И таять снег,
Когда промчится этот юный,
Прелестный век.
Феодосия, Сочельник 1913
Thus to thirst life:
And to be tender
And rabid and noisy,
To be intelligent and charming -
Gorgeous to be!
More tender than what are or have been,
Guilt not to know...
This, that in graveyard all are equal,
Angers me so.
To be what nobody holds dear -
Like ice become!
Not knowing what has come before now
Nor what will come,
To forget how the heart broke and
Grew back together,
To forget both the words and voice
And shine of hair.
Bracelet of ancient turquoise
On the stem, on
This my white arm
Narrow and long...
Like painting over a cloud
From afar,
One took the mother-of-pearl pen
In one's arm,
Just like the legs jumped
Over the fence,
To forget, how along the road
Shade advanced.
To forget, like flame of azure, how
Days are subdued...
All my mischief, all my tempest,
And poems too!
Laughter will be chased away by
My miracle.
I, always-pink, will be
The most pale.
And they won't open - thus is needed -
Pity this one!
Not for the sight, not for the fields,
Not for the sun -
These my lowered eyelids. -
Flower not for! -
My earth, forgive for centuries
Forevermore.
Thus both the moon and the snow
Will melt away,
When this young, beautiful century
Will rush on by.
I finally finished my 3d video related to Marina Tsvetaeva. The song used only parts of the poems (italicised), and they changed the order of the parts marked pink and red. Clicking on the photo will lead you to the video.
2 Kommentare:
Who was she? I don't know her...
She's my favourite poet =) In my opinion she was an amazing and complex personality and a remarkably gifted poet and writer. She's one of the two most famous Russian women poets (the other being Anna Akhmatova)of the "Silver Age", the period of the end of the 19th the beginning of the 20th c. when many talented Russian poets created their work. When I read her poems I always feel as if something is turning upside down in me, for they are so emotional and her sense of the language is amazing. I'm not much into poems generally, but she is an exception, for her way of expressing feelings is powerful and unique and beautiful. I'm in love with the poetry and the personality ever since I was 16 and had to prepare a report on her in a class.
There are various English renditions of her poems out there on the internet, but they seem paler in comparison to me who has the priviledge to read the originals!
Her life was full of hardships after the revolution of 1917 but she stayed true to herself till the tragic end.
What a gifted person and what a shocking fate. I think she lived in her own world to some extent being above the prosaic aspects of life, otherwise she won't have written what she wrote. She was different, she was self-contained and independent in her art.
You may look her up if interested:
Wikipedia (quite a comprehensive article):http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marina_Tsvetaeva
Two sites with poem translations, biography etc (in English):
http://english.tsvetayeva.com/biography
http://home.comcast.net/~kneller/tsvetaeva.html
Another collection of translated poems:http://lib.ru/POEZIQ/CWETAEWA/sbornik_engl.txt
And, wow, I just dicovered some Spanish tranlations too! Here: http://amediavoz.com/tsvetaieva.htm
Love this one to bits:
INSOMNIO 10
Otra vez una ventana
donde otra vez no se duerme.
A lo mejor beben vino,
a lo mejor no hacen nada.
O tal vez, manos unidas,
no separan esas manos.
En cada casa, mi amigo,
hay asн una ventana.
Separaciones y encuentros:
gritas, nocturna ventana,
quizбs hay cientos de velas,
o quizбs sуlo tres velas.
Sin reposo
mi cabeza.
En mi casa
ha entrado eso.
ЎHay que rezar por la casa sin sueсo!
ЎY rezar por el fuego en la ventana!
26 de diciembre de 1916
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