Valentin SAVIN
(my translations)
Below is a short biography of Marina Tsvetaeva and my translation of one of her poems.
Marina Tsvetaeva (1892-1941) is a very popular Russian poetess. Up to 16 y.o. old she lived a happy life in Moscow and then studied at the Sorbonne University in Paris. She began writing poems very early. Her first book was published in 1910.
A year later Tsvetaeva met Sergei Efron - cadet in the Officers' Academy who was a year younger than she and married him in 1912. Most of their time they lived in the Crimea.
After the 1917 Revolution, Efron joined the White Army, and Marina returned to Moscow to reunite with her husband. She was trapped in Moscow for five years in a terrible famine.
She had two daughters Ariadna, or Alya born 1912 and Irina 1917. She placed both of them in a state orphanage, hoping that it would be better for them there. Alya became ill, and was removed, but Irina died there of starvation.
In 1922 Tsvetaeva's family left Russia and lived abroad in constant poverty, be it in Prague, Berlin, Paris. Their she gave birth to a son, whom she wanted to name Boris after Pasternak but her husband insisted on Georgy. In 1939 they returned to Moscow.
During her lifetime she wrote poems, verse plays, and prose pieces. Though Tsvetaeva was primarily a lyrical poet, she wrote tragic poems and essays, folk songs and those that reflected her nostalgia for homeland. She was famous among major symbolists of her time.
Her husband and her daughter Ariadna were arrested on espionage charges. Tsvetaeva and her son were evacuated to Yelabuga. Soon after theexecution of her husband Tsvetaeva committed suicide in 1941.
Last night was looking in my eyes
Last night was looking in my eyes
And now he's looking far aside!
Last night stayed till birds stopped their cries, -
And all the larks - turned ravens wide.
I'm stupid; you are much too clever -
Alive and I'm dumbfounded through.
Oh, women crying now and ever:
'My dear, what have I done to you? !
To her - the tears are water and blood
In bloody water - washed with tears!
Her love's not mum's but stepmom's bud.
No court her plea for mercy hears.
Ships sail away beloved ones,
White roads take them to lands new
And moan along the whole earth runs,
'My dear, what have I done to you? !
Last night was kneeling at my feet,
Equated me with China's Force!
Today I met with his mistreat -
My life turned rusty penny's worth.
Infanticide before the court
I stay - unmerciful and blue.
Yet in the hell I still retort:
'My dear, what have I done to you? '
I ask the chair, I ask the bed:
"What for I tolerate ordeal? "
"He kissed you all" each of them said.
'Let others kiss - Break her on wheel! "
Accustomed me to live in fire,
You threw me - on the frozen dew
Here's what you, dear one, desired!
'My dear, what have I done to you? '
It's plain to me - say no word!
I see again - though not a lover!
Where Love recedes you might have heard
There comes the Death - and us will cover.
There's no need to shake the tree! -
The ripened apple falls when due…
- For all, for all, please pardon me!
'My dear, what have I done to you? '
..........................................
Original text in the Russian
Марина Цветаева
Вчера еще в глаза глядел,
А нынче - всё косится в сторону!
Вчера еще до птиц сидел, -
Всё жаворонки нынче - вороны!
Я глупая, а ты умен,
Живой, а я остолбенелая.
О, вопль женщин всех времен:
'Мой милый, что тебе я сделала? ! '
И слезы ей - вода, и кровь -
Вода, - в крови, в слезах умылася!
Не мать, а мачеха - Любовь:
Не ждите ни суда, ни милости.
Увозят милых корабли,
Уводит их дорога белая...
И стон стоит вдоль всей земли:
'Мой милый, что тебе я сделала? '
Вчера еще - в ногах лежал!
Равнял с Китайскою державою!
Враз обе рученьки разжал, -
Жизнь выпала - копейкой ржавою!
Детоубийцей на суду
Стою - немилая, несмелая.
Я и в аду тебе скажу:
'Мой милый, что тебе я сделала? '
Спрошу я стул, спрошу кровать:
'За что, за что терплю и бедствую? '
'Отцеловал - колесовать:
Другую целовать', - ответствуют.
Жить приучил в самом огне,
Сам бросил - в степь заледенелую!
Вот что ты, милый, сделал мне!
Мой милый, что тебе - я сделала?
Всё ведаю - не прекословь!
Вновь зрячая - уж не любовница!
Где отступается Любовь,
Там подступает Смерть-садовница.
Самo - что дерево трясти! -
В срок яблоко спадает спелое...
- За всё, за всё меня прости,
Мой милый, - что тебе я сделала!
Bri, I appreciate your joke. Osip Mandelstam was not Maria’s husband. Tsvetaeva met Sergei Efron and married him in 1912. Most of their time they lived in the Crimea. After the 1917 Revolution, Efron joined the White Army. In 1939 he was arrested. Marina who lived abroad returned to Moscow to reunite with her husband. What is wrong with it?
(cont.) 2 - her life sounds somewhat tragic! though suicide can be a quick and sure relief for some, i do caution people to get counseling AND to not 'mess it up' if they try it! btw: Osip Mandelstam (1891-1938) was a Russian Jewish poet and essayist. bri (
1 - Val, i accidentally saw this as poem of the day today; i 'never' look for these! now to read it (the English version only!) . re Marina's bio: After the 1917 Revolution, Efron joined the White Army, and Marina returned to Moscow to reunite with her husband. it sounds like she had 2 husbands! (cont.)
Bri, I appreciate your joke. Osip Mandelstam was not Maria’s husband. Tsvetaeva met Sergei Efron and married him in 1912. Most of their time they lived in the Crimea. After the 1917 Revolution, Efron joined the White Army. In 1939 he was arrested. Marina who lived abroad (in Paris) returned to Moscow to reunite with her husband. What is wrong with it?
Your efforts have produced a wonderful write, congratulations on this your poem of the day.
A powerful and poignant write. A beautiful translation. Thank.you for this wonderful offering. Congratulations!
Thank you very much, dear Rose Marie. I'm flattered by your nice comment. It's my pleasure.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A very sorrowful write of desperate times in the poet's life.......translated well Valentin.
Thank you very much, Tom! I am more than happy.