Wind by Boris Pasternak fm Dr Zhivago
Posted: Sat May 14, 2016 2:41 pm
Ветер
Я кончился, а ты жива.
И ветер, жалуясь и плача,
Раскачивает лес и дачу.
Не каждую сосну отдельно,
А полностью все дерева
Со всею далью беспредельной,
Как парусников кузова
На глади бухты корабельной.
И это не из удальства
Или из ярости бесцельной,
А чтоб в тоске найти слова
Тебе для песни колыбельной.
literally:
Wind
I have ended, but you live.
And wind complaining and crying
rocks forest and dacha.
Not each pine separately,
But utterly all trees
with all distance infinite,
as yachts' hulls
on smooth surface of bay ship.
And this not out of daring
or out of frenzy aimless,
but in order to in anguish find words
for you for a song cradle.
Interpretation:
Wind
I have died, but you're alive.
And the wind, complaining, keening
sends the lodge and forest reeling.
Not first one pine tree then another,
but every tree as far as sight
to the endless distance all together,
like hulls of unrigged yachts that ride
in a harbour in slack water.
And this not out of reckless pride
or any aimless angry fervour,
but so that heartache might provide
words for a cradle song for you.
The website http://www.usc.edu/dept/las/sll/eng/ess/bib44.htm has a detailed analysis of this poem and critiques of 7 English translations.
Я кончился, а ты жива.
И ветер, жалуясь и плача,
Раскачивает лес и дачу.
Не каждую сосну отдельно,
А полностью все дерева
Со всею далью беспредельной,
Как парусников кузова
На глади бухты корабельной.
И это не из удальства
Или из ярости бесцельной,
А чтоб в тоске найти слова
Тебе для песни колыбельной.
literally:
Wind
I have ended, but you live.
And wind complaining and crying
rocks forest and dacha.
Not each pine separately,
But utterly all trees
with all distance infinite,
as yachts' hulls
on smooth surface of bay ship.
And this not out of daring
or out of frenzy aimless,
but in order to in anguish find words
for you for a song cradle.
Interpretation:
Wind
I have died, but you're alive.
And the wind, complaining, keening
sends the lodge and forest reeling.
Not first one pine tree then another,
but every tree as far as sight
to the endless distance all together,
like hulls of unrigged yachts that ride
in a harbour in slack water.
And this not out of reckless pride
or any aimless angry fervour,
but so that heartache might provide
words for a cradle song for you.
The website http://www.usc.edu/dept/las/sll/eng/ess/bib44.htm has a detailed analysis of this poem and critiques of 7 English translations.