ЛЮДИ                                                                     People

                                                       By Evgeny Evtushenko                                      

Людей неинтересных в мире нет.                 Uninteresting people there are none.

Их судьбы, как истории планет.                   Each fate’s akin to a cosmic one.

У каждой все особое, свое,                             Each unique, incomparably alone,

и нет планет, похожих на нее.                       An entire planet on its own.

А если кто-то незаметно жил                         Even if someone lived life listlessly,

и с этой незаметностью дружил,                  And reconciled with it wearily,

он интересен был среди людей                     He piqued the interest of others

самой неинтересностью своей.                     By his weird, unusual druthers.

У каждого свой тайный личный мир.          Each has an entire world within,

Есть в мире этом самый лучший миг.         To live, to love, to savor and spin.

Есть в мире этом самый страшный час.      And moments of utter cussedness,

Но это все неведомо для нас………             A Life’s drama unbeknownst to us..

И если умирает человек,                                And when this person passes on,

с ним умирает первый его снег,                    So does his first kiss, his first dawn.

и первый поцелуй, и первый бой...               The frenzied dreams, the vigor and vim 

Все это забирает он с собой.                          All waft away, together with him.

Да, остаются книги и мосты,                         The creative footprints do stay behind-                

машины и художников холсты;                    A Book, a machine, a poem, a design.

да, многому остаться суждено,                     While much is fated to remain,

но что-то ведь уходит все равно.                  Something departs, all the same.

Таков закон безжалостной игры.                  Such is the nature of the pitiless curse -

Не люди умирают, а миры.                            Not just people die, but their universe.

Людей мы помним, грешных и земных.      We remember them- sinful, real, 

А что мы знали, в сущности, о них?            But did we really know them well?

Что знаем мы про братьев, про друзей?      What do we know of friends and foes?

Что знаем о единственной своей?                 Our beloved, that one thinks one knows!

И про отца родного своего                             Of Parents, who raised us all?

мы, зная все, не знаем ничего.                      We know, but know nothing at all.

Уходят люди... Их не возвратить.                 People depart….never to return,

Их тайные миры не возродить.                     Leaving us to pine and yearn.

И каждый раз мне хочется опять                  And each time this makes me turn and toss,

от этой невозвратности кричать...                 At the finality, the irreversible loss.

 

 

 

Excerpt from Pushkin’s Evgeny Onegin

 

When will my hour of freedom ring? Hasten and deliver me – I implore, The flapping sails seem to beckon As I wander along the shore.   When will I break free of my fetters? Dance on the waves, frolic on the sand In the stormy embrace of a raging sea, And leave behind this dreary land?   Bid farewell to snow and sleet, Bask in the sun under African skies, Nestle in the womb of sibilant sands, And think of Russia with tremulous sighs.   Russia-where I lived, loved and suffered, And where my wounded heart is interred.

Pridet li chas moej svobody? Pora, pora! - vzyvayu k nej. Brozhu nad morem, zhdu pogody, Manyu vetrila korablej.   Pod rizoj bur', s volnami sporya, Po vol'nomu rasput'yu morya Kogda zh nachnu ya vol'nyj beg? Pora pokinut' skuchnyj breg   Mne nepryaznennoj stihii, I sred' poludennyh zybej, Pod nebom Afriki moej, Vzdyhat' o sumrachnoj Rssii, Gde ya stradal, gde ya lyubil, Gde serdce ya pohoronil.

 

Excerpt from Pushkin’s Poltava

Togda-to svishe vdokhnovenny

Rasdalsya zvuchni glas Petra

""za delo, s bogom!" iz shatra,

Tolpoi lyubimtsev okruzhyonii,

Vikhodit  Pyotr. Yevo glaza

siyayut. Leek yevo uzhasen.

Dvizhyeniya bistri. On prikrasen.

On  ves' kak bozhiya groza.

Idyot.Yemu konya podvodyat.

Retiv i smiren vernii kon'.

Pochuya rokovoi ogon',

Drozhit. Glazami koso vodit

I mchitsa v prakhe boyevom,

Gordyas' mogushim sodokom.

 

And then came the impassioned cry:

"Forward and Godspeed," - it was Peter,

His aspect fierce, his eyes aglitter.

Hemmed in by a fervent crowd,

He is glowing, brisk, tall and proud,

A booming voice, firm and loud.

His loyal steed is waiting.

Heaving flanks, nostrils flared,

Raring limbs, his eyes glared,

A wary calm like coiled spring.

Now he gallops through the battle dust,

Fueled by honor and mutual trust

The stately bearer of a mighty King!

 

 

Афанасий Афанасьевич Фет

Afanasy Fet

I come to you with a greeting,

To say- the sun is up and aglow,

That each leaf is prancing about,

All nature is in primeval flow.

 

To say – the woods are alive,

Each branch, each twig, each flower,

That each bird has taken happy flight,

And spring is in the air.

 

To say – I come to you,

With the passion and fervor of old

To serve and love you as of yore

With all the ardor my heart can hold.

 

To say – that happiness and joy

Have engulfed my very being,

Though not much given to music,

A song is bubbling up within.

 

 

 

                                Fyodor Tyutchev’s Famous Lines

 

Umom Rossiyu ne ponyat’

Arshinom obshim ne izmerit’

U niyo osobaya stat’

V rossiyu mozhno tolko verit’

 

 

Russia-no logic can explain,

No comparison can it withstand.

All rational reason is in vain

Only hope can make you understand