Loving, I am still dumbfounded
by the world and its beauty,
and nothing will make me renounce
the sweetness you grant me.
However hard my breath come,
while I stand here on earth
the sound of new life will be welcome
wherever it stirs.
Submissive to the sun’s rays,
roots go down into the grave
to seek from death the strength
to meet spring days.
by Афанасий Афанасьевич Фет (Afanasy Afanasyevich Fet)
a.k.a. Шеншин (Shenshin)
(1890)
translated by Robert Chandler
Not a word will I utter
of what I keep muttering to myself –
not for anything in the world.
Night flowers sleep all summer’s day
but leaves wake as sun sets behind a corpse –
and my heart starts to blossom.
And into my tired breast wafts a moist
breath of evening. Something flutters, is stirred.
But no, not a word.
by Афанасий Афанасьевич Фет (Afanasy Afanasyevich Fet)
a.k.a. Шеншин (Shenshin)
(1885)
translated by Robert Chandler
Look, outside my window the vine is spreading so fast it
almost blocks out the light. Dark, picturesque green now
covers up half of the panes. And amidst the foliage a bunch of
seemingly carefully-placed grapes has started to turn
yellow… Hands off, sweetest! Why this rage for destruction?
If one plump little white hand should be seen to steal
into the yard for a bunch of grapes, the neighbours will waste no
time in declaring: she must have been in his room.
by Афанасий Афанасьевич Фет (Afanasy Afanasyevich Fet)
a.k.a. Шеншин (Shenshin)
(1847)
translated by Robert Chandler
Whispers, timid breathing,
trills of a nightingale,
the silver and the shiver
of a sleepy rill.
Pale light and nighttime shadows,
shadows without end,
all the magic transformations
of eyes and lips and brows.
In smoky clouds, a rose’s purple,
the shine of amber beads,
and the kisses, and the tears,
and the dawn, the dawn!
by Афанасий Афанасьевич Фет (Afanasy Afanasyevich Fet)
a.k.a. Шеншин (Shenshin)
(1850)
translated by Boris Dralyuk
At daybreak there spread through the heavens
Pale clouds like a turreted town:
The cupolas golden, fantastic,
White roofs and white walls shining down.
This citadel is my white city,
My city familiar and dear,
Above the dark earth as it slumbers,
Upon the pink sky builded clear.
And all that aerial city
Sails northward, sails softly, sails high;
And there on the height, some one beckons,—
But proffers no pinions to fly.
by Афанасий Афанасьевич Фет (Afanasy Afanasyevich Fet)
a.k.a. Шеншин (Shenshin)
(1846)
translated by ???
Fun fact: A more straight forward English translation of the poem compared to the Scottish version posted previously Воздушный город (The Aerial City) by Afanasy Fet
At the peep o day in the lift forgether
bonnie cloods like a steepled toun,
wi mony a dome like a bubble o gowd
and white roofs and white waas blinterin doun.
O yon is my ain white city –
or I came to the earth I bade there!
abune the derk warld quhile it sleeps
in the reid lift skinklan fair.
But it hauds awa to the North,
sails saftly, saftly, and high –
and a voice is fain that I’d join it –
but gies me nae wings to try.
by Афанасий Афанасьевич Фет (Afanasy Afanasyevich Fet)
a.k.a. Шеншин (Shenshin)
(1846)
translated by Hugh MacDiarmid
Fun fact: MacDiarmid translation of Fey’s poem into a Scottish brogue. Here is a brief glossary to aid those not familiar with it.
waas blinterin = walls gleaming
or … bade = Before… lived there
quhile = while
reid skinlan = red sky glittering
For those wanting a more straight forward English translation Воздушный город (The Aerial City) by Afanasy Fet a.k.a. Shenshin
Billowing dust
so far away.
On horse, on foot?
Hard to say…
There! Galloping
on a swift steed…
O far-flung friend,
remember me!
by Афанасий Афанасьевич Фет (Afanasy Afanasyevich Fet)
a.k.a. Шеншин (Shenshin)
(1843)
translated by Robert Chandler
I’m going to including this song for no clear reason…
It has nothing to do with the poem but it came to mind while reading it…
