亞歷山大普希金（亞歷山大·謝爾蓋耶維奇·普希金，俄語：Александр Сергеевич Пушкин，1799年6月6日-1837年2月10日），俄國詩人、劇作家、小說家、文學批評家和理論家、歷史學家、政論家，俄國浪漫主義的傑出代表，俄國現實主義文學的奠基人，是十九世紀前期文學領域中最具聲望的人物之一，被尊稱為“俄國詩歌的太陽”、“俄國文學之父”，現代標準俄語的創始人。
主要作品有詩歌《自由頌》《致大海》《致恰達耶夫》等，詩體小說《葉甫蓋尼·奧涅金》，短篇小說《黑桃皇后》，長篇小說《上尉的女兒》等。
致大海
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[俄羅斯] 普希金
再見吧，自由的原素！最後一次了，在我眼前你的藍色的浪頭翻滾起伏，你的驕傲的美閃爍壯觀。彷彿友人的憂鬱的絮語，彷彿他別離一刻的招呼，最後一次了，我聽著你的喧聲呼喚，你的沉鬱的吐訴。我全心渴望的國度啊，大海！多麼常常地，在你的岸上我靜靜地，迷惘地徘徊，苦思著我那珍愛的願望。啊，我多麼愛聽你的回聲，那喑啞的聲音，那深淵之歌，我愛聽你黃昏時分的幽靜，和你任性的脾氣的發作！漁人的渺小的帆憑著你的喜怒無常的保護在兩齒之間大膽地滑過，但你若洶湧起來，無法克服，成群的漁船就會覆沒。直到現在，我還不能離開這令我厭煩的凝固的石岸，我還沒有熱烈地擁抱你，大海！也沒有讓我的詩情的波瀾隨著你的山脊跑開！你在期待，呼喚……我卻被縛住，我的心突然想要掙脫開，是更強烈的感情把我迷住，於是我在岸邊留下來……有什麼可顧惜的？而今哪裡能使我奔上坦蕩的途徑？在你的荒涼中，只有一件東西也許還激動我的心靈。一面峭壁，一座光榮的墳墓……那裡，種種偉大的回憶已在寒冷的夢裡沉沒，啊，是拿破崙熄滅在那裡。他已經在苦惱里長眠。緊隨著他，另一個天才象風暴之間馳過我們面前，啊，我們心靈的另一個主宰。他去了，使自由在悲泣中！他把自己的桂 冠留給世上。喧騰吧，為險惡的天時而洶湧，噢，大海！他曾經為你歌唱。他是由你的精氣塑成的，海啊，他是你的形象的反映；他象你似的深沉、有力、陰鬱，他也倔強得和你一樣。世界空虛了……哦，海洋，現在你還能把我帶到哪裡？到處，人們的命運都是一樣：哪裡有幸福，必有教育或暴君看守得非常嚴密。再見吧，大海！你壯觀的美色將永遠不會被我遺忘；我將久久地，久久地聽著你在黃昏時分的轟響。心裡充滿了你，我將要把你的山岩，你的海灣，你的光和影，你的浪花的喋喋，帶到森林，帶到寂靜的荒原。
假如生活欺騙了你
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[俄羅斯] 普希金
假如生活欺騙了你
假如生活欺騙了你，
不要憂鬱，也不要憤慨！
不順心時暫且剋制自己，
相信吧，快樂之日就會到來。
我們的心兒憧憬著未來，
現今總是令人悲哀
一切都是暫時的，轉瞬即逝，
而那逝去的將變得可愛。
烏蘭汗譯
我曾經愛過你
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[俄羅斯] 普希金
我曾經愛過你：愛情，也許
在我的心靈裡還沒有完全消亡，
但願它不會再打擾你，
我也不想再使你難過悲傷。
我曾經默默無語、毫無指望地愛過你，
我既忍受著羞怯，又忍受著嫉妒的折磨，
我曾經那樣真誠、那樣溫柔地愛過你，
願上帝保佑你找到另一人，
如我這般愛你。
戈寶權譯
風暴
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[俄羅斯] 普希金
你看見那個站在峭巖上的少女嗎？
穿著白色的衣裳，高臨在波濤之上，
就是當大海在風暴的煙霧中喧騰，
和海岸在嬉戲，
就是當雷電的金光
時時刻刻用赤紅的光芒照亮了她，
而風在打擊和吹拂
她飄蕩著的輕紗的時光？
在風暴的煙霧中的大海，
在閃光中失掉蔚藍的天空，都是美麗的；
但是相信我吧：就是那個站在峭巖上的少女，
她比波浪、天空和風暴，還更漂亮。
1825
戈寶權譯
在自己祖國的藍天下
[俄羅斯] 普希金
在自己祖國的藍天下
她已經憔悴，已經枯萎……
終於凋謝了，也許正有一個
年輕的幽靈在我頭上旋飛；
但我們卻有個難以逾越的界限。
我徒然地激發自己的情感：
從冷漠的唇邊傳出了她死的訊息，
我也冷漠地聽了就完。
這就是我用火熱的心愛過的人，
我愛得那麼熱烈，那麼深沉，
那麼溫柔，又那麼心頭鬱郁難平，
那麼瘋狂，又那麼苦痛！
痛苦在哪兒，愛情在哪兒？在我的心裡，
為那個可憐的輕信的靈魂，
為那些一去不返的歲月的甜蜜記憶，
我既沒有流淚，也沒有受責備。
1826
魏荒弩譯
是時候啦
[俄羅斯] 普希金
是時候啦，我的朋友，是時候啦！心兒要求安靜－－
日子一天天地飛逝過去，每一小時都帶走了一部分生命，
而我和你兩個人還想長久地生活下去，
但也可能－－就突然死亡，
在世界上沒有幸福，但卻有安靜和志向。
我早就對那個令人羨慕的命運抱著幻想－－
我這個疲倦的奴隸啊，早就打算逃避到
那能從事寫作和享受純潔的安樂的遙遠的地方！
1834
戈寶權譯
致恰阿達耶夫
[俄羅斯] 普希金
愛情、希望、默默的榮譽——
哄騙給我們的喜悅短暫，
少年時代的戲耍已經消逝，
如同晨霧，如同夢幻；
可是一種願望還在胸中激盪，
我們的心焦灼不安，
我們經受著宿命勢力的重壓，
時刻聽候著祖國的召喚。
我們忍受著期待的煎熬
切盼那神聖的自由時刻來到，
正象風華正茂的戀人
等待忠實的幽會時分。
趁胸中燃燒著自由之火，
趁心靈嚮往著自由之歌，
我的朋友，讓我們用滿腔
壯麗的激情報效祖國！
同志啊，請相信：空中會升起
一顆迷人的幸福之星，
俄羅斯會從睡夢中驚醒，
並將在專制制度的廢墟上
銘刻下我們的姓名！
1818
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紀念碑Exegi monumentum
[俄羅斯] 普希金
我給自己建起了一座非手造的紀念碑，
人民走向那裡的小徑永遠不會荒蕪，
它將自己堅定不屈的頭顱高高昂起，
高過亞歷山大的石柱。
不，我絕不會死去，心活在神聖的豎琴中，
它將比我的骨灰活得更久，永不消亡，
只要在這個月照的世界上還有一個詩人，
我的名聲就會傳揚。
整個偉大的俄羅斯都會聽到我的傳聞，
各種各樣的語言都會呼喚我的姓名，
無論驕傲的斯拉夫人的子孫，還是芬蘭人、
山野的通古斯人、卡爾梅克人。
我將長時期地受到人民的尊敬和愛戴：
因為我用豎琴喚起了人民善良的感情，
因為我歌頌過自由，在我的殘酷的時代，
我還曾為死者呼籲同情。
啊，我的繆斯，你要聽從上天的吩咐，
既不怕受人欺侮，也不希求什麼桂冠，
什麼誹謗，什麼讚揚，一概視若糞土，
也不必理睬那些笨蛋。
1836
致克恩
[俄羅斯] 普希金
我記得那美妙的瞬間：
你就在我的眼前降臨，
如同曇花一現的夢幻，
如同純真之美的化身。
我為絕望的悲痛所折磨，
我因紛亂的忙碌而不安，
一個溫柔的聲音總響在耳邊，
嫵媚的身影總在我夢中盤旋。
歲月流逝。一陣陣迷離的衝動
象風暴把往日的幻想吹散，
我忘卻了你那溫柔的聲音，
也忘卻了你天仙般的容顏。
在荒涼的鄉間，在囚禁的黑暗中，
我的時光在靜靜地延伸，
沒有崇敬的神明，沒有靈感，
沒有淚水，沒有生命，沒有愛情。
我的心終於重又覺醒，
你又在我眼前降臨，
如同曇花一現的夢幻，
如同純真之美的化身
心兒在狂喜中萌動，
一切又為它萌生：
有崇敬的神明，有靈感，
有淚水，有生命、也有愛情。
1825
我就要沉默了
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[俄羅斯] 普希金
我就要沉默了！然而，假如這琴絃
能在我憂傷時報我以低迴的歌聲；
假如有默默聆聽我的男女青年
曾感嘆於我的愛情的長期苦痛；
假如你自己，在深深的感動之餘，
能將我悲哀的詩句悄悄地低吟，
並且喜歡我心靈的熱情的言語……
假如你是愛著我……哦，親愛的友人，
請允許我以痴情怨女的聖潔之名
使這豎琴的臨終一曲充滿柔情！……
於是，等死亡的夢覆蓋著我永眠，
你就可以在我的墓甕前，感傷地說：
“我愛過他，是我給了他以靈感，
使他有了最後的愛情，最後的歌。”
1821
戈寶權譯
一切都已結束
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[俄羅斯] 普希金
一切都已結束，不再藕斷絲連。
我最後一次擁抱你的雙膝，
說出這令人心碎的話語，
一切都已結束－－回答我已聽見。
我不願再把你苦追苦戀，
我不願再一次把自己欺誑；
也許，往事終將被我遺忘，
我此生與愛情再也無緣。
你年紀輕輕，心底純真，
還會有許多人對你鍾情。
1824
杜承南譯
我的名字對你能意味什麼
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[俄羅斯] 普希金
我的名字對你能意味什麼？
它將死去，象濺在遙遠的岸上
那海浪的淒涼的聲音，
像是夜晚的森林的迴響。
在這留作紀念的冊頁上，
它留下的是死沉沉的痕跡，
就彷彿墓碑上的一些花紋，
記載著人們所不懂的言語。
它說些什麼？早就遺忘了
在新鮮的騷擾和激動裡，
對你的心靈，它不能顯示
一種純潔的、柔情的回憶。
然而，在孤獨而淒涼之日，
你會抑鬱地念出我的姓名；
你會說，有人在懷念我，
在世上，我還活在你的心靈……
1830
查良錚譯
為了懷念你
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[俄羅斯] 普希金
為了懷念你，我把一切奉獻：
那充滿靈性的豎琴的歌聲，
那傷心已極的少女的淚泉，
還有我那嫉妒的心的顫動。
還有那明澈的情思之美，
還有那榮耀的光輝、流放的黑暗，
還有那復仇的念頭和痛苦欲絕時
在心頭翻起的洶湧的夢幻。
1825
烏蘭汗譯
被你那纏綿悱惻的夢想
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[俄羅斯] 普希金
被你那纏綿悱惻的夢想
隨心所欲選中的人多麼幸福，
他的目光主宰著你，在他面前
你不加掩飾地為愛情心神恍惚；
然而那默默地、充滿忌妒地
聆聽你的自白的人又多麼悽楚。
他心裡燃燒著愛情的火焰，
卻低垂著那顆沉重的頭顱。
1828
蘇杭 譯
《歐根·奧涅金》節選
[俄羅斯] 普希金
第一章 五十五
我喜愛的是平和的日子
鄉間的幽靜對我最適合：
我的琴絃在這裡才最響亮，
幻想才飛揚，夢才蓬勃。
我願意盡情享受安閒，
無憂無慮地在湖邊遊蕩，
望著孤寂的湖水，無所事事，
這就是我最高的期望。
每天早晨，我盤算著怎樣消遣，
要少讀書，多多地睡眠，
浮世的虛名任由他飄忽，
我要的只是舒適和安閒；
過去那些年，可不是如此
我度過了幸福的日子？
第二章 十八
有時候，我們象潰敗的兵
逃到理性的旗下，尋求平靜，
當熱情的火焰已經熄滅，
我們看到已往的任性
和激動的感情，都變為可笑，
再沒有理由接著胡鬧——
這時候我們往往喜歡聆聽
別人經歷的愛情的波濤。
…………
…………
第七章 四十八
…………
………？
呵，空虛的世界！你甚至
拿不出一點有趣的愚蠢！
第八章 十
這樣的人有福了：假如他
在青年時代熱情，活潑，
以後隨著年齡逐漸老成，
他也能忍受生活的冷漠；
他不再夢想那怪異的夢，
卻隨波逐流，成為社交的能手，
他在二十歲是個翩翩少年，
三十歲結了婚，太太很富有，
到五十歲，他的各種債務
都已償清，而且平靜地
把光輝的名譽，金錢，爵祿，
都依次一一拿到手中，
關於他，人們一直這麼說：
某某真是個可愛的傢伙。
第八章 十一
然而，我們不禁沉鬱的想：
青春來得真是突然：
我們對她不斷變心，
她也時時將我們欺騙；
而我們最美好的願望
和新鮮的夢想，都象秋天
衰敗的落葉，就這麼快地
一一凋零了，腐蝕，不見。
生活竟成了一長串飲宴
橫在面前，誰能夠忍受？
你看它就象是一場儀式，
跟在一群規矩人的後頭，
而自己和他們之間
沒一點相投的興趣和意見！
查良錚 譯
I Loved You
[俄羅斯] 普希金
I loved you, and I probably still do,
And for a while the feeling may remain...
But let my love no longer trouble you,
I do not wish to cause you any pain.
I loved you; and the hopelessness I knew,
The jealousy, the shyness - though in vain -
Made up a love so tender and so true
As may God grant you to be loved again.
Translated by Genia Gurarie, 11/10/95
Friendship
[俄羅斯] 普希金
What's friendship? The hangover's faction,
The gratis talk of outrage,
Exchange by vanity, inaction,
Or bitter shame of patronage.
The Prophet
[俄羅斯] 普希金
Longing for spiritual springs,
I dragged myself through desert sands ...
An angel with three pairs of wings
Arrived to me at cross of lands;
With fingers so light and slim
He touched my eyes as in a dream:
And opened my prophetic eyes
Like eyes of eagle in surprise.
He touched my ears in movement, single,
And they were filled with noise and jingle:
I heard a shuddering of heavens,
And angels' flight on azure heights
And creatures' crawl in long sea nights,
And rustle of vines in distant valleys.
And he bent down to my chin,
And he tore off my tongue of sin,
In cheat and idle talks aroused,
And with his hand in bloody specks
He put the sting of wizard snakes
Into my deadly stoned mouth.
With his sharp sword he cleaved my breast,
And plucked my quivering heart out,
And coals flamed with God's behest,
Into my gaping breast were ground.
Like dead I lay on desert sands,
And listened to the God's commands:
'Arise, O prophet, hark and see,
Be filled with utter My demands,
And, going over Land and Sea,
Burn with your Word the humane hearts.'
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Imitation
[俄羅斯] 普希金
I saw the Death, and she was seating
By quiet entrance at my own home,
I saw the doors were opened in my tomb,
And there, and there my hope was a-flitting
I'll die, and traces of my past
In days of future will be never sighted,
Look of my eyes will never be delighted
By dear look, in my existence last.
Farewell the somber world, where, precipice above,
My gloomy road was a-streaming,
Where life for me was never cheering,
Where I was loving, having not to love!
The dazzling heavens' azure curtain,
Beloved hills, the brook's enchanting dance,
You, mourn -- the inspiration's chance,
You, peaceful shades of wilderness, uncertain,
And all -- farewell, farewell at once.
A Magic Moment I Remember
[俄羅斯] 普希金
A magic moment I remember:
I raised my eyes and you were there,
A fleeting vision, the quintessence
Of all that's beautiful and rare
I pray to mute despair and anguish,
To vain the pursuits world esteems,
Long did I hear your soothing accents,
Long did your features haunt my dreams.
Time passed. A rebel storm-blast scattered
The reveries that once were mine
And I forgot your soothing accents,
Your features gracefully divine.
In dark days of enforced retirement
I gazed upon grey skies above
With no ideals to inspire me
No one to cry for, live for, love.
Then came a moment of reinessance,
I looked up - you again are there
A fleeting vision, the quintessence
Of all that's beautiful and rare
To ----
[俄羅斯] 普希金
I remember the marvellous moment
you appeared before me,
like a transient vision,
like pure beauty’s spirit.
Lost in hopeless sadness,
lost in the loud world’s turmoil,
I heard your voice’s echo,
and often dreamed your features.
Years passed. The storm winds scattered,
with turbulent gusts, that dreaming.
I forgot your voice, its tenderness.
I forgot your lovely face.
Remote in my darkened exile,
the days dragged by so slowly,
without grace, without inspiration,
without life, without tears, without love.
Then my spirit woke
and you, you appeared again,
like a transient vision,
like pure beauty’s spirit.
And my heart beats with delight,
and ecstasy, inside me,
and grace and inspiration,
and tears, and life, and love.
A Little Bird
[俄羅斯] 普希金
In alien lands I keep the body
Of ancient native rites and things:
I gladly free a little birdie
At celebration of the spring.
I'm now free for consolation,
And thankful to almighty Lord:
At least, to one of his creations
I've given freedom in this world!
Muse
[俄羅斯] 普希金
In my youth's years, she loved me, I am sure.
The flute of seven pipes she gave in my tenure
And harked to me with smile -- without speed,
Along the ringing holes of the reed,
I got to play with my non-artful fingers
The peaceful songs of Phrygian village singers,
And the important hymns, that gods to mortals bade.
>From morn till night in oaks' silent shade
I diligently harked to the mysterious virgin;
Rewarding me, by chance, for any good decision,
And taking locks aside of the enchanting face,
She sometimes took from me the flute, such commonplace.
The reed became alive in consecrated breathing
And filled the heart with holiness unceasing.
Bound For Your Distant Home
[俄羅斯] 普希金
Bound for your distant home
you were leaving alien lands.
In an hour as sad as I’ve known
I wept over your hands.
My hands were numb and cold,
still trying to restrain
you, whom my hurt told
never to end this pain.
But you snatched your lips away
from our bitterest kiss.
You invoked another place
than the dismal exile of this.
You said, ‘When we meet again,
in the shadow of olive-trees,
we shall kiss, in a love without pain,
under cloudless infinities.’
But there, alas, where the sky
shines with blue radiance,
where olive-tree shadows lie
on the waters glittering dance,
your beauty, your suffering,
are lost in eternity.
But the sweet kiss of our meeting ......
I wait for it: you owe it me .......
A Wish
[俄羅斯] 普希金
The days drag on, each moment multiplies
Within my wounded heart the pain and sadness
Of an unhappy love and, dark, gives rise.
To sleepless dreams, the haunting dreams of madness
But I do not complain - instead, I weep;
Tears bring me solace, comforted they leave me.
My spirit, captive held by grief, a deep.
And bitter rapture finds in them, believe me.
Pass, life! Come, empty phantom, onward fly.
And in the silent void of darkness vanish.
Dear it to me my love's unending anguish;
If as I die I love, pray let me die.
Don’t Ask Me Why
[俄羅斯] 普希金
Don’t ask me why, alone in dismal thought,
In times of mirth, I’m often filled with strife,
And why my weary stare is so distraught,
And why I don’t enjoy the dream of life;
Don’t ask me why my happiness has perished,
Why I don’t love the love that pleased me then,
No longer can I call someone my cherished--
Who once felt love will never love again;
Who once felt bliss, no more will feel its essence,
A moment’s happiness is all that we receive:
From youth, prosperity and joyful pleasantry,
All that is left is apathy and grief...
Night
[俄羅斯] 普希金
My voice, to which love lends a tenderness and yearing,
Disturbs night's dreamy calm ... Pale at my bedside burning,
A taper wastes away ... From out my heart there surge
Stift verses, streams of love, that hum and sing and merge.
And, full of you, rush on, with passion overflowing.
I seem to see your eyes that, in the darkness glowing,
Meet mine ... I see your smile ... You speak to me alone:
My friend, my dearest friend ... I'm your's ... your own.
The Wish
[俄羅斯] 普希金
I shed my tears; my tears – my consolation;
And I am silent; my murmur is dead,
My soul, sunk in a depression’s shade,
Hides in its depths the bitter exultation.
I don’t deplore my passing dream of life --
Vanish in dark, the empty apparition!
I care only for my love’s infliction,
And let me die, but only die in love!
Autumn
[俄羅斯] 普希金
What doesn't enter then my slumbering mind?
-Derzhavin
I
October has arrived - the woods have tossed
Their final leaves from naked branches;
A breath of autumn chill - the road begins to freeze,
The stream still murmurs as it passes by the mill,
The pond, however's frozen; and my neighbor hastens
to his far-flung fields with all the members of his hunt.
The winter wheat will suffer from this wild fun,
And baying hounds awake the slumbering groves.
II
This is my time: I am not fond of spring;
The tiresome thaw, the stench, the mud - spring sickens me.
The blood ferments, and yearning binds the heart and mind..
With cruel winter I am better satisfied,
I love the snows; when in the moonlight
A sleigh ride swift and carefree with a friend.
Who, warm and rosy 'neath a sable mantle,
Burns, trembles as she clasps your hand.
III
What fun it is, with feet in sharp steel shod,
To skim the mirror of the smooth and solid streams!
And how about the shining stir of winter feasts? . .
But in the end you must admit that naught but snow
For half the year will even bore a bear
Deep in his den. We cannot ride for ages,
In sleighs with youthful nymphs
Or sulk around the stove behind storm windows.
IV
O, summer fair! I would have loved you, too,
Except for heat and dust and gnats and flies.
You kill off all our mental power,
Torment us; and like fields, we suffer from the drought;
To take a drink, refresh ourselves somehow -
We think of nothing else, and long for lady Winter,
And, having bid farewell to her with pancakes and with wine,
We hold a wake to honor her with ice-cream and with ice.
V
The latter days of fall are often cursed,
But as for me, kind reader, she is precious
In all her quiet beauty, mellow glow.
Thus might a child, disfavored in its family,
Draw my regard. To tell you honestly,
Of all the times of year, I cherish her alone.
She's full of worth; and I, a humble lover,
Have found in her peculiar charms.
VI
How can this be explained? I favor her
As you might one day find yourself attracted
To a consumptive maid. Condemned to death,
The poor child languishes without complaint or anger.
A smile plays upon her withering lips;
She cannot sense as yet the gaping maw of death;
A crimson glow still flits across her face.
Today she lives, tomorrow she is gone.
VII
A melancholy time! So charming to the eye!
Your beauty in its parting pleases me -
I love the lavish withering of nature,
The gold and scarlet raiment of the woods,
The crisp wind rustling o'er their threshold,
The sky engulfed by tides of rippled gloom,
The sun's scarce rays, approaching frosts,
And gray-haired winter threatening from afar.
VIII
When autumn comes, I bloom anew;
The Russian frost does wonders for my health;
Anew I fall in love with life's routine:
Betimes I'm soothed by dreams, betimes by hunger caught;
The blood flows free and easy in my heart,
Abrim with passion; once again, I'm happy, young,
I'm full of life - such is my organism
(Excuse me for this awful prosaism)
IX
My horse is brought to me; in open field,
With flying mane, he carries fast his rider,
And with his shining hooves he hammers out a song
Upon the frozen, ringing vale, and crackling ice.
But fleeting day dies out, new fire comes alive
Inside the long-forgotten stove-- it blazes bright,
Then slowly smoulders - as I read before it,
Or nourish long and heartfelt thoughts.
X
And I forget the world - in silence sweet,
I'm sweetly lulled by my imagination,
And poetry awakens deep inside:
My heart is churned with lyric agitation,
It trembles, moans, and strives, as if in sleep,
To pour out in the end a free statement-
And here they come - a ghostly swarm of guests,
My long-lost friends, the fruits of all my dream.
XI
My mind is overcome by dashing thoughts,
And rhymes come running eagerly to meet them,
My hand demands a pen; the pen - a sheet of paper.
Another minute - and my verse will freely flow.
Thus slumbers an immobile ship caught in immobile waters,
But lo! - the sailors rush all of a sudden, crawl
Up top, then down - sails billow, filled with wind;
The massive structure moves, and cuts the waves.
XII
It sails. But whither do we sail?...
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Remembrance
[俄羅斯] 普希金
When the loud day for men who sow and reap
Grows still, and on the silence of the town
The unsubstantial veils of night and sleep,
The meed of the day's labour, settle down,
Then for me in the stillness of the night
The wasting, watchful hours drag on their course,
And in the idle darkness comes the bite
Of all the burning serpents of remorse;
Dreams seethe; and fretful infelicities
Are swarming in my over-burdened soul,
And Memory before my wakeful eyes
With noiseless hand unwinds her lengthy scroll.
Then, as with loathing I peruse the years,
I tremble, and I curse my natal day,
Wail bitterly, and bitterly shed tears,
But cannot wash the woeful>
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Lyric Written In 1830
[俄羅斯] 普希金
What means my name to you?...T'will die
As does the melancholy murmur
Of distant waves or, of a summer,
The forest's hushed nocturnal sigh.
Found on a fading album page,
Dim will it seem and enigmatic,
Like words traced on a tomb, a relic
Of some long dead and vanished age.
What's in my name?...Long since forgot,
Erased by new, tempestuous passion,
of tenderness 'twill leave you not
The lingering and sweet impression.
But in an hour of agony,
Pray, speak it, and recall my image,
And say, "He still remembers me,
His heart alone still pays me homage."
The Dream
[俄羅斯] 普希金
Not long ago, in a charming dream,
I saw myself -a king with crown's treasure;
I was in love with you, it seemed,
And heart was beating with a pleasure.
I sang my passion's song by your enchanting knees.
Why, dreams, you didn't prolong my happiness forever?
But gods deprived me not of whole their favor:
I only lost the kingdom of my dreams.
The Upas Tree
[俄羅斯] 普希金
Deep in the desert's misery,
far in the fury of the sand,
there stands the awesome Upas Tree
lone watchman of a lifeless land.
The wilderness, a world of thirst,
in wrath engendered it and filled
its every root, every accursed
grey leafstalk with a sap that killed.
Dissolving in the midday sun
the poison oozes through its bark,
and freezing when the day is done
gleams thick and gem-like in the dark.
No bird flies near, no tiger creeps;
alone the whirlwind, wild and black,
assails the tree of death and sweeps
away with death upon its back.
And though some roving cloud may stain
with glancing drops those leaden leaves,
the dripping of a poisoned rain
is all the burning sand receives.
But man sent man with one proud look
towards the tree, and he was gone,
the humble one, and there he took
the poison and returned at dawn.
He brought the deadly gum; with it
he brought some leaves, a withered bough,
while rivulets of icy sweat
ran slowly down his livid brow.
He came, he fell upon a mat,
and reaping a poor slave's reward,
died near the painted hut where sat
his now unconquerable lord.
The king, he soaked his arrows true
in poison, and beyond the plains
dispatched those messengers and slew
his neighbors in their own domains.
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I Love Thee
[俄羅斯] 普希金
I loved thee; and perchance until this moment
Within my breast is smouldering still the fire!
Yet I would spare thy pain the least renewal,
Nothing shall rouse again the old desire!
I loved thee with a silent desperation--
Now timid, now with jealousy brought low,
I loved devoutly,--with such deep devotion--
Ah may God grant another love thee so!
Another Translation:
I loved you once: perhaps that love has yet
To die down thoroughly within my soul;
But let it not dismay you any longer;
I have no wish to cause you any sorrow.
I loved you wordlessly, without a hope,
By shyness tortured, or by jealousy.
I loved you with such tenderness and candor
And pray God grants you to be loved that way again.
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Morpheus
[俄羅斯] 普希金
Oh, Morpheus, give me joy till morning
For my forever painful love:
Just blow out candles' burning
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!
The Talisman
[俄羅斯] 普希金
Where the sea forever dances
Over lonely cliff and dune,
Where sweet twilight's vapor glances
In a warmer-glowing moon,
Where with the seraglio's graces
Daylong toys the Mussulman,
An enchantress 'mid embraces
Handed me a talisman.
'Mid embraces I was bidden:
"Guard this talisman of mine:
In it secret power is hidden!
Love himself has made it thine.
Neither death nor ills nor aging,
My beloved, does it ban,
Nor in gales and tempest raging
Can avail my talisman.
Never will it help thee gather
Treasures of the Orient coast,
Neither to thy harness tether
Captives of the Prophet's host;
Nor in sadness will it lead thee
To a friendly bosom, nor
From this alien southland speed thee
To the native northern shore.
"But whenever eyes designing
Cast on thee a sudden spell,
In the darkness lips entwining
Love thee not, but kiss too well:
Shield thee, love, from evil preying,
From new heart-wounds---that it can,
From forgetting, from betraying
Guards thee this my talisman."
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To My Friends
[俄羅斯] 普希金
The chain of golden days and nights
Is still your heritage from Deity,
And, still, the languid maidens’ eyes
Are turned to you as well intently.
So, play and sing, friends of my years!
Lose very quickly passing evening,
And, at your heedless joy and singing,
I will be smiling through my tears.
Demon
[俄羅斯] 普希金
In bygone days when life's array -
The sweet song of the nightingale
And maidens' eyes, the rustling woods -
Still left a fresh impression on me,
When loftiness of feeling,
And freedom, glory, love
Artistic inspiration
So deeply stirred my blood,
My times of hope were cast in shade
And pleasure dimmed by longing,
For it was then an evil genius
Began to pay me secret visits.
Our meetings were quite dolorous:
His smile, his glance mysterious,
His venom-filled and caustic sermons
Poured frozen poison in my soul.
With endless slandering remarks
He tempted Providence;
He claimed that beauty's but a dream;
Felt scorn for inspiration;
He had no faith in love or freedom;
He looked on life with ridicule-
And in the whole of nature
He did not wish to praise a single thing.
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On Count Voronstov
[俄羅斯] 普希金
One half Milord, one half in trade,
One half a sage, one half a dunce,
One half a crook, but here for once
There's every hope he'll make the grade.
Solitude
[俄羅斯] 普希金
He's blessed, who lives in peace, that's distant
From the ignorant fobs with calls,
Who can provide his every instance
With dreams, or labors, or recalls;
To whom the fate sends friends in score,
Who hides himself by Savior's back
From bashful fools, which lull and bore,
And from the impudent ones, which wake.
The Night
[俄羅斯] 普希金
My voice that is for you the languid one, and gentle,
Disturbs the velvet of the dark night's mantle,
By my bedside, a candle, my sad guard,
Burns, and my poems ripple and merge in flood --
And run the streams of love, run, full of you alone,
And in the dark, your eyes shine like the precious stones,
And smile to me, and hear I the voice:
My friend, my sweetest friend... I love... I'm yours... I'm yours!
Confession
[俄羅斯] 普希金
I love you - I love you, e'en as I
Rage at myself for this obsession,
And as I make my shamed confession,
Despairing at your feet I lie.
I know, I know - It ill becomes me,
I am too old, time to be wise ...
But how? ... This love - it overcomes me,
A sickness this in passion's guise.
When you are near I'm filled with sadness,
When far, I yawn, for life's a bore.
I must pour out this love, this madness,
There's nothing that I long for more!
When your shirts rustle, when, my angel,
Your girlish voice I hear, when your
Light step sounds in the parlour - strangely,
I turn confused, perturbed, unsure.
Your frown - and I'm in pain, I languish;
You smile - and joy defeats distress;
My one reward for a day's anguish
Comes when your, pale hand, love, I kiss.
When you sit, bent over your sewing,
Your eyes cast down and fine curls blowing.
About your face, with tenderness
I like childlike watch, my heart o'erflowing
With love, in my gaze a caress.
Shall I my jealousy and yearning
Describe, my bitterness and woe
When by yourself on some bleak morning
Off on a distant walk you go,
Or with another spend the evening
And, with him near, the piano play,
Or for Opochka leave, or, grieving
Weep and in silence, pass the day?
Alina! Pray relent have mercy!
I dare not ask for love - with all
My many sins, both great and small,
I am perhaps of love unworthy!
But if feigned love, if you would
Pretend, you'd easily deceive me,
For happily would I, believe me,
Deceive myself if but I could!
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Old Man
[俄羅斯] 普希金
I’m not that lover, filled with passion, -
That youth, who left the world amazed:
Alas, my spring and summer passed now,
And didn’t leave a single trace.
Cupid, the god of youth and love and virtue!
I used to be your steadfast servant;
Oh, if I could be reborn, - I’d serve you
Even more passionate and fervent!
The Drowned Man
[俄羅斯] 普希金
Children running into izba,
Calling father, dripping sweat:
'Daddy, daddy! come -there is a
Deadman caught inside our net.'
'Fancy, fancy fabrication...'
Grumbled off their weary Pa,
'Have these imps imagination!
Deadman, really! ya-ha-ha...
'Well... the court may come to bother -
What'll I say before the judge?
Hey you brats, go have your mother
Bring my coat; I better trudge...
Show me, where? ' -'Right there, Dad, farther! '
On the sand where netting ropes
Lay spread out, the peasant father
Saw the veritable corpse.
Badly mangled, ugly, frightening,
Blue and swollen on each side...
Has he fished in storm and lightning,
Or committed suicide?
Could this be a careless drunkard,
Or a mermaid-seeking monk,
Or a merchandizer, conquered
By some bandits, robbed and sunk?
To the peasant, what's it matter!
Quick: he grabs the dead man's hair,
Drags his body to the water,
Looks around: nobody's there:
Good... relieved of the concern he
Shoves his paddle at a loss,
While the stiff resumes his journey
Down the stream for grave and cross.
Long the dead man as one living
Rocked on waves amid the foam...
Surly as he watched him leaving,
Soon our peasant headed home.
'Come you pups! let's go, don't scatter.
Each of you will get his bun.
But remember: just you chatter -
And I'll whip you, every one.'
Dark and stormy it was turning.
High the river ran in gloom.
Now the torch has finished burning
In the peasant's smoky room.
Kids asleep, the wife aslumber,
He lies listening to the rain...
Bang! he hears a sudden comer
Knocking on the window-pane.
'What the...' -'Let me in there, master! '
'Damn, you found the time to roam!
Well, what is it, your disaster?
Let you in? It's dark at home,
Dark and crowded... What a pest you are!
Where'd I put you in my cot...'
Slowly, with a lazy gesture,
He lifts up the pane and - what?
Through the clouds, the moon was showing...
Well? the naked man was there,
Down his hair the water flowing,
Wide his eyes, unmoved the stare;
Numb the dreadful-looking body,
Arms were hanging feeble, thin;
Crabs and cancers, black and bloody,
Sucked into the swollen skin.
As the peasant slammed the shutter
(Recognized his visitant)
Horror-struck he could but mutter
'Blast you! ' and began to pant.
He was shuddering, awful chaos
All night through stirred in his brain,
While the knocking shook the house
By the gates and at the pane.
People tell a dreadful rumor:
Every year the peasant, say,
Waiting in the worst of humor
For his visitor that day;
As the rainstorm is increasing,
Nightfall brings a hurricane -
And the drowned man knocks, unceasing,
By the gates and at the pane.
Translated by: Genia Gurarie, 11/95
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Tempest
[俄羅斯] 普希金
You saw perched on a cliff a maid,
Her raiment white above the breakers,
When the mad sea reared up and played
Its whips of spray on coastal acres
And now and then the lightnings flush,
And purple gleams upon her hover,
And fluttering up in swirling rush,
The wind rides in her airy cover?
Fair is the sea in gales arrayed,
The heavens drained of blue and flashing,
But fairer on her cliff the maid
Than storms and skies and breakers crashing.
Arion
[俄羅斯] 普希金
A lot of us were on the bark:
Some framed a sail for windy weather,
The others strongly and together
Moved oars. In silence sunk,
Keeping a rudder, strong and clever,
The skipper drove the heavy skiff;
And I -- with careless belief --
I sang for sailors... . But the stiff
Whirl smashed at once the waters' favor...
All dead -- the captain and his guard! --
But I, the enigmatic bard,
Was thrown to the shore alone.
I sing the former anthems, yet,
And dry my mantle, torn and wet,
In beams of sun under a stone.
The Name
[俄羅斯] 普希金
What is my name to you? 'T will die:
a wave that has but rolled to reach
with a lone splash a distant beach;
or in the timbered night a cry ...
'T will leave a lifeless trace among
names on your tablets: the design
of an entangled gravestone line
in an unfathomable tongue.
What is it then? A long-dead past,
lost in the rush of madder dreams,
upon your soul it will not cast
Mnemosyne's pure tender beams.
But if some sorrow comes to you,
utter my name with sighs, and tell
the silence: "Memory is true -
there beats a heart wherein I dwell."
I'Ve Lived To See Desire Vanish
[俄羅斯] 普希金
I’ve lived to see desire vanish,
With hope I’ve slowly come to part,
And I am left with only anguish,
The fruit of emptiness at heart.
Under the storms of merciless fate,
My worn and withered garland lies--
In sadness, lonesome, I await:
How far away is my demise?
Thus, conquered by a tardy frost,
Through gale’s whistling and shimmer,
Late, on a naked limb exposed
A lonesome leaf is left to quiver!...
Eastern Song
[俄羅斯] 普希金
I think that thou wert born for this—
To set the poet's vision burning,
To hold him in a trance of bliss,
And by sweet words to wake his yearning:
To charm him by those eyes that shine,
By that strange Eastern speech of thine,
And by thy feet—those tiny treasures!
Ah! thou wert born for languid pleasures
And glowing hours of bliss divine!
A Winter Evening
[俄羅斯] 普希金
Sable clouds by tempest driven,
Snowflakes whirling in the gales,
Hark--it sounds like grim wolves howling,
Hark--now like a child it wails!
Creeping through the rustling straw thatch,
Rattling on the mortared walls,
Like some weary wanderer knocking--
On the lowly pane it falls.
Fearsome darkness fills the kitchen,
Drear and lonely our retreat,
Speak a word and break the silence,
Dearest little Mother, sweet!
Has the moaning of the tempest
Closed thine eyelids wearily?
Has the spinning wheel's soft whirring
Hummed a cradle song to thee?
Sweetheart of my youthful Springtime,
Thou true-souled companion dear--
Let us drink! Away with sadness!
Wine will fill our hearts with cheer.
Sing the song how free and careless
Birds live in a distant land--
Sing the song of maids at morning
Meeting by the brook's clear strand!
Sable clouds by tempest driven,
Snowflakes whirling in the gales,
Hark--it sounds like grim wolves howling,
Hark--now like a child it wails!
Sweetheart of my youthful Springtime,
Thou true-souled companion dear,
Let us drink! Away with sadness!
Wine will fill our hearts with cheer!
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May 26, 1828
[俄羅斯] 普希金
Gift haphazard, unavailing,
Life, why were thou given me?
Why art thou to death unfailing
Sentenced by dark destiny?
Who in harsh despotic fashion
Once from Nothing called me out,
Filled my soul with burning passion
Vexed and shook my mind with doubt?
I can see no goal before me;
Empty heart and idle mind.
Life monotonously o'er me
Roars, and leaves a wound behind.
Day's Rain Is Done
[俄羅斯] 普希金
Day's rain is done. The rainy mist of night
Spreads on the sky, leaden apparel wearing,
And through the pine-trees, like a ghost appearing,
The moon comes up with hidden light.
All in my soul drags me to dark surrender.
There, far away, rises the moon in splendour.
There all the air is drunk with evening heat,
There move the waters in a sumptuous heat,
And overhead the azure skies...
It is the hour. From high hills she has gone
To sea-shores flooding in the waves' loud cries;
There, where the holy cliffs arise,
Now she sits melancholy and alone...
Alone... Before her none is weeping, fretting,
None, on his knees, is kissing her, forgetting;
Alone... To no one's lips is she betraying
Her shoulders, her wet lips, her snow-white bosom.
No one is worthy of her heavenly love.
'Tis true?... Alone... You weep... I do not move.
Yet if...
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A Serenade
[俄羅斯] 普希金
I watch Inesilla
Thy window beneath,
Deep slumbers the villa
In night's dusky sheath.
Enamoured I linger,
Close mantled, for thee--
With sword and with guitar,
O look once on me!
Art sleeping? Wilt wake thee
Guitar tones so light?
The argus-eyed greybeard
My swift sword shall smite.
The ladder of ropes
Throw me fearlessly now!
Dost falter? Hast thou, Sweet,
Been false to thy vow?
I watch Inesilla
Thy window beneath,
Deep slumbers the villa
In night's dusky sheath!
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Curious
[俄羅斯] 普希金
--What’s new? “I tell you, nothing whatsoever.”
--Don’t fool with me: you’re hiding it, I know.
Oh, don’t you feel ashamed? you think you’re clever
To hide the news from me like from a foe?
Oh, tell me, brother, why? Inform me, I insist!
Don’t be so stubborn, give me just a clue...
“Oh, let me be, the only thing I know is this -
That you’re a fool, but that is nothing new.”
The Singer
[俄羅斯] 普希金
Did you attend? He sang by grove ripe -
The bard of love, the singer of his mourning.
When fields were silent by the early morning,
To sad and simple sounds of a pipe
Did you attend?
Did you behold in dark of forest leaf
The bard of love, the singer of his sadness?
The trace of tears, the smile, the utter paleness,
The quiet look, full of eternal grief,
Did you behold?
Then did you sigh when hearing how cries
The bard of love, the singer of his dole?
When in the woods you saw the young man, sole,
And met the look of his extinguished eyes,
Then did you sigh?
Goblins Of The Steppes
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Stormy clouds delirious straying,
Showers of whirling snowflakes white,
And the pallid moonbeams waning--
Sad the heavens, sad the night!
Further speeds the sledge, and further,
Loud the sleighbell's melody,
Grewsome, frightful 'tis becoming,
'Mid these snow fields now to be!
Hasten! 'That is useless, Master,
Heavier for my team their load,
And my eyes with snow o'er plastered
Can no longer see the road!
Lost all trace of our direction,
Sir, what now? The goblins draw
Us already round in circles,
Pull the sledge with evil claw!
See! One hops with frantic gesture,
In my face to grin and hiss,
See! It goads the frenzied horses
Onward to the black abyss!
In the darkness, like a paling
One stands forth,--and now I see
Him like walking-fire sparkling--
Then the blackness,--woe is me!'
Stormy clouds delirious straying,
Showers of snowflakes whirling white,
And the pallid moonbeams waning--
Sad the heavens, sad the night!
Sudden halt the weary horses,
Silent too the sleighbells whirr--
Look! What crouches on the ground there?
'Wolf,--or shrub,--I know not, Sir.'
How the wind's brood rage and whimper!
Scenting, blow the triple team;
See! One hops here! Forward Driver!
How his eyes with evil gleam!
Scarce controllable the horses,
How the harness bells resound!
Look! With what a sneering grimace
Now the spirit band surround!
In an endless long procession,
Formless, countless of their kind
Circle us in flying coveys
Like the leaves in Autumn wind.
Now in ghastly silence deathly,
Now with shrilling elfin cry--
Is it some mad dance of bridal,
Or a death march passing by?
Stormy clouds delirious straying
Showers of snowflakes whirling white,
And the pallid moonbeams waning--
Sad the heavens, sad the night!
Cloudward course the evil spirits
In unceasing phantom bands,
And their moaning and bewailing
Grip my heart with icy hands!
The Poet
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Until he hears Apollo's call
To make a hallowed sacrifice,
A Poet lives in feeble thrall
To people's empty vanities;
And silent is his sacred lyre,
His soul partakes of chilly sleep,
And of the world's unworthy sons
He is, perhaps, the very least.
But once Divinity's command
Approaches his exquisite ear,
The poet's soul awakens, poised,
Just like an eagle stirred from sleep.
All worldly pleasures leave him cold,
From common talk he stays aloof,
And will not lower his proud head
Before the nation's sacred cow.
Untamed and brooding, he takes flight,
Seething with sound and agitation,
To reach a sea-swept, desert shore,
A woodland wide and murmuring...
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The Last Flower
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Rich the first flower's graces be,
But dearer far the last to me;
My spirit feels renewal sweet,
Of all my dreams hope or desire--
The hours of parting oft inspire
More than the moments when we meet!
Tatiana's Letter
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FROM 'EUGENE ONIEGIN'
I write to you . . . when that is said
What more is left for me to say ?
Now you are free (I know too well)
To heap contempt upon my head.
Yet if some sparks of pity dwell
Within your breast you'll surely not
Abandon me to my hard lot.
When first I saw you I desired
To hold my peace : my shame ('tis true)
Would ne'er have been revealed to you
Had life's conditions but inspired
One gleam of hope that you would come
To see us in our country home
From time to time, so that I might
Hear but one word, catch but one tone,
And live by dreaming on alone
Till our next meeting, day and night.
But then it seemed there was no hope;
Our rustic quiet bored you so,
Folk said you were a misanthrope;
And we—we do not make a show—
You found us narrow in our scope.
Why did you come to visit us
I n this forgotten quiet place ?
I need not have been tortured thus
If I had never seen your face.
My inexperienced heart maybe
Had grown resigned to this dull life,
And future years had brought to me
Some other love—my destiny
An honoured mother and true wife.
Another's! Nay, to none on earth
Could I have given this heart of mine.
By the decree of the Most High,
And by Heaven's willing, I am thine.
Allotted unto you was I
E'en from the moment of my birth
And loyal to my future fate;
And God, I know, sent you to be
My champion and my advocate
Till the grave closes over me. . . .
Oft in my dreams you did appear;
I loved you then before the days
When palpably I saw you here ;
I languished in your wondrous gaze
And in my heart your voice rang clear
Long since. ... It was no dream to me!
You came—at once I understood
This swift confusion in my blood,
While my thoughts whispered : ' Lo, 'tis he.'
Was it not true ? Am I not sure
You spoke with me in hours of peace
When I went visiting my poor,
Or when I strove by prayer to ease
The pain in which my spirit toss'd ?
Was not your image wont to rise
A vision sweet—too quickly lost—
To light my gloom ? Did not mine eyes
See you bend gently o'er my bed ?
Were not some words low whispered
Of love and hope ? Now in what guise
Come you ? As guardian angel good,
Or tempter in some wily mood ?
0 speak, and set my doubts at rest!
What if all this should prove at best
The empty dream, more light than froth,
Of a heart simple and untried ?
Well, be it so! But from henceforth
I must to you my fate confide.
Must weep my tears about your feet
And for your sheltering love entreat.
Picture me now. ... I sit alone
With none to heed or guess what ails . . .
And now my very reason fails!
I wait for you. One glance of yours
Fresh hope unto my heart restores;
Or else the cruel dream comes back
Of merited contempt. . . . Alack!
[She seals the letter.]
'Tis done! I scarce dare read it through,
But overcome with shame and fright
I trust my honour now to you,
And dare to think I trust aright.
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Thoughts
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If I walk the noisy streets,
Or enter a many thronged church,
Or sit among the wild young generation,
I give way to my thoughts.
I say to myself: the years are fleeting,
And however many there seem to be,
We must all go under the eternal vault,
And someone?s hour is already at hand.
When I look at a solitary oak
I think: the patriarch of the woods.
It will outlive my forgotten age
As it outlived that of my grandfathers?.
If I dandle a young infant,
Immediately I think: farewell!
I will yield my place to you,
For I must fade while your flower blooms.
Each day, and every hour
I habitually follow in my thoughts,
Trying to guess from their number
The year which brings my death.
And where will fate send death to me?
In battle, in my travels, or on the seas?
Or will the neighbouring valley
Receive my chilled ashes?
And although to the senseless body
It is indifferent wherever it rots,
Yet close to my beloved countryside
I still would prefer to rest.
And let it be, beside the grave?s vault
That young life forever will be playing,
And impartial, indifferent nature
Eternally be shining in beauty.
