Not Completed yet.
I am fluent in Russian. However, the translation business,
especially of a complex entity such as a poem is a completely
different matter - one must take into account the weight of
rhyme, metaphor, and everything else that comes into the
language. Also, Russian is a Slavic language whereas
English is an Angl0-Saxon language heavily influenced by Romance
languages. Much of Russian poetry relies heavily on the
sound of the words, similar to Japanese poetry in that sense,
therefore, as a wise man once said, translating Lermontov into
English is like translating Mozart into stone.
Nevertheless it has been done and must be done, these are two
beautiful languages that deserve to know each other's poetry.
Evidence:
1
Marc Chagall
by Robert Rozhdestvensky
He's old and resembles his loneliness.
He doesn't't care to discourse on the weather.
Right away with a question:
"Are you not from Vitebsk?"
An old fashioned blazer with worn out lapels . . .
"No, I'm not from Vitebsk . . ."
A long pause.
And then -- dull and monotonous
words:
"I work and I'm sick,
there's an exhibition in Venice . . . .
So, you're not from Vitebsk?"
"No, I'm not from Vitebsk."
He looks to the side.
Doesn't hear.
With a foreign distance he sighs,
attempting to cautiously reach for his childhood . . .
And there's no Cannes,
no Azure shore,
no present glory . . .
Brightly and perplexedly
he's yearning for Vitebsk, as if a plant . . .
His Vitebsk
is industrial and hot,
pinned to the Earth with a watch-tower.
There's weddings and deaths, prayers and fairs.
There, especially, blossom large heavy apples,
and a sleepy cabdriver rolls down the square . . .
". . . Are you not from Vitebsk? . . . "
He becomes silent.
And suddenly pronounces
the names of streets:
Smolenskaya,
Zamskovaya.
As if the Volga, he brags about the river Vidba,
and waves with a kid-like open hand . . .
"So, you're not from Vitebsk . . . "
Time to bid farewell.
Soon its time to return home.
Down the road the trees
stand at attention.
And it's a pity
that I'm not from Vitebsk.
Translation: January 28, 2009
About the Poet:
Robert Rozhdestvensky (1932-1994)
Very highly regarded Russian poet, became popular during the "Thaw."
About the Poem:
This was a hard poem to translate, as it speaks to many sentimentalities of the
Russian émigré life. Marc Chagall was a famous Russian-Jewish artist who
grew up in the town of Vitebsk (now in Belorussia), however after
the Second World War he fled to Western Europe, where he became very popular.
The tone of the poem is about a poor, old, Marc Chagall who though having
"present glory" is nonetheless poor in the sense that he is without his
homeland, that he is constantly asking everyone if they are "from Vitebsk"
because he yearns for the home to which he cannot return. Vitebsk to the
poem's main character, the artist, is like a growing plant which he is
attempting to touch . . . he brags to whomever he is speaking with that the
river Vidba which is near Vitebsk is just as glorious as the mighty Volga.
He recounts old street names, and asks - as if by habit, he you are from
Vitebsk.
A painting by Chagall.
Rozhdestvensky paints a very vivid picture of an aging Chagall. I am not
sure when this poem was written, but I am pretty sure that it was written
sometime during Chagall's life, as Chagall lived until the ripe age of 97, dying
in 1985 - and Rozhdestvensky died in 1994. Nevertheless, it is a beautiful
peom in the original. I thas also been turned into a song by the Russian
bard Alexander Berkovsky.
Links to the Poem:
Listen to the poem as a song in Russian -
HERE.
Read the poem in the original Russian -
HERE. |
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