Author’s note: All poems are representative of Russian symbolism and were written in the early twentieth century, Russia’s so-called Silver Age of poetry, which was short-lived due to the advent of communism. Innokenty Annensky and Alexander Blok often hailed as the greatest Russian poets of their century, were all important figures during this period and are read with great interest today.
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Я шел к блаженству. Путь блестел
Росы вечерней красным светом,
А в сердце, замирая, пел
Далекий голос песнь рассвета.
Рассвета песнь, когда заря
Стремилась гаснуть, звезды рдели,
И неба вышние моря
Вечерним пурпуром горели.
Душа горела, голос пел
В вечерний час звуча рассветом.
Я шел к блаженству. Путь блестел
Росы вечерней красным светом.
Александр Блок
1898
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I went to bliss. The footpath gleamed
The ruby tint of evening dew,
And ebbing in my spirit streamed
The distant song of dawn anew.
The song of dawn, as sunset strove
To fade away. The heavens glowed,
And through the welkin’s seas above
The flames of evening purple flowed.
My spirit blazed; around me streamed
Through evening, daybreak’s song anew.
I went to bliss. The footpath gleamed
The ruby tint of evening dew.
Alexander Blok
1898
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Имеющий невесту есть жених;
а друг жениха, стоящий и
внимающий ему,
радостью радуется, слыша голос жениха.
От Иоанна, III, 29
Я, отрок, зажигаю свечи,
Огонь кадильный берегу.
Она без мысли и без речи
На том смеется берегу.
Люблю вечернее моленье
У Белой церкви над рекой,
Передзакатное селенье
И сумрак мутно-голубой.
Покорный ласковому взгляду,
Любуюсь тайной красоты,
И за церковную ограду
Бросаю белые цветы.
Падет туманная завеса.
Жених сойдет из алтаря.
И от вершин зубчатых леса
Забрежжит брачная заря.
Александр Блок
1902
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He that hath the bride is the bridegroom: but
the friend of the bridegroom, which standeth
and heareth him, rejoiceth greatly because of
the bridegroom’s voice.
From John III.29
I’m ten years old. I light a wick
And shield the censer’s nascent flame.
Without a word or thought, she sits
Upon that shore and calls my name.
I love the whispered evening prayer
At White Church by the quiet rill,
The hamlet in the sunset’s glare,
And twilight’s murky, pale blue still.
I, humble to its tender glance,
Admire beauty’s mystery
And by the church, along the fence
Toss snow-white flowers in front of me.
The misty veil will later drop,
The groom will quit the altar’s dais,
And from the forest’s jagged top
Will stream forth dawn’s first nuptial rays.
Alexander Blok
1902
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Среди Миров
Среди миров, в мерцании светил
Одной Звезды я повторяю имя…
Не потому, чтоб я Её любил,
А потому, что я томлюсь с другими.
И если мне сомненье тяжело,
Я у Неё одной ищу ответа,
Не потому, что от Неё светло,
А потому, что с Ней не надо света.
Иннокентий Анненский
Царское Село
3 апреля 1909
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Amidst the Planets
Amidst the planets, in the heavens’ glimmer,
There’s just one Star whose name I’ll ever say.
It’s not because I am in love with Her,
But as, with other stars, I waste away.
And if I’m feeling painfully unsure,
I’ll come to Her alone to ease my plight.
It’s not because light emanates from Her,
But as, with Her, there is no need for light.
Innokenty Annensky
Tsarskoye Selo
April 3, 1909
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Max Thompson is a 2015 graduate of the University of Arkansas’ MFA program in creative writing in translation and, on the strength of a Sturgis International Fellowship from his alma mater, is currently studying translation at the Maxim Gorky Literary Institute in Moscow, Russia. His work has appeared previously in The Alchemy Journal of Translation, World Literature Today, The Oklahoma Review, and Unsplendid. All poems are part of the public domain.
