Page 4 of O, Time...

Я тебе дарю себя в подарок:

  И хранить тебе меня и хоронить.

  ***

  I’m lying and inside of me, you’re lying.

  You’ve kicked me, and again, relaxed anew.

  I’m laughing: It’s the first time you

  Had made me laugh, without even trying.

  Adjacent to my heart, you’re always moving,

  Unnamed, as if a goldfish in its bowl -

  You will respond to any name you’re called

  So long as it is peaceful and soothing.

  It is as if I’m pushed back to my spine,

  As if a guard, for whom all sleep’s forbidden,

  I am protecting, in her alcove hidden,

  The greatest sleeping beauty of all time.

  I’m lying and you’re lying too, within.

  The strip of Mobius continues to unwind.

  There is a charming throbbing in my spine,

  It bears a life that’s ready to begin.

  Do violets have words enough to rave

  About the nectar that has soaked them through?

  Today, I’m giving all myself to you:

  To keep me safe, and lay me in the grave.

  ***

  Отселяю доченьку в комнату свою.

  Плачу будто доченьку замуж отдаю.

  Прячу ее кофточки, шортики в комод.

  День придет и доченька от меня уйдет.

  ***

  I’m sending off my daughter to her little room.

  Crying like I’m handing her off onto the groom.

  All her shorts and sweaters are folded evenly.

  One day soon my daughter will be leaving me.

  ***

  Я так привыкла к легкой этой ноше,

  Что забываю, что ее ношу.

  Одной рукою чищу стол от крошек,

  Одной рукой стишок в тетрадь пишу.

  Тут рассмеюсь, что борщ пересоленный,

  Тут рассержусь на сок разлитый я,

  Забыв что на боку висит совенок –

  Всему свидетель и всего судья.

  ***

  I’m so used to her weight - I’m unable

  To feel her on me when fully immersed,

  With one arm, I am cleaning the table,

  With one arm, I am writing a verse.

   

  As I laugh when my borsh is over salted,

  Or spill juice and worry too much,

  I'm forgetting the owlet I’m holding -

  The ubiquitous witness and judge.

  ***

  Мы спим с тобой за ручку. И во сне

  Гулям вместе под волшебной сенью

  Каких-то неизученных растений

  В какой-то неопознанной стране.

  Как будто подсознанье шепчет мне,

  Что повинуясь принципу взросленья,

  Ты с рук моих опустишься на землю

  И корни пустишь вдоль моих корней.

  И вырастешь. Сначала до колен,

  Потом по пояс, по плечо, по брови

  А после этого с тобой мы будем вровень,

  А там, глядишь, под нашею листвой

  Росток зазеленеет новый – твой.

  И будет этот лес благославен.

  ***

  We dream together, lying hand in hand,

  That we are walking underneath the cover

  Of magical, unstudied plants and flowers,

  In some remote and undiscovered land.

  I’ve only now begun to comprehend

  The aging process through subconscious powers,

  As you are lowered to the ground, I discover, -

  Your budding roots, among my own, expand.

  You’ll reach my knees and grow incessantly,

  Up to my waist, my shoulder and my brow,

  You’ll grow, someday, as tall as I am now.

  Just wait a bit, and before long, of course,

  Beneath our shade, there'll be a sprout - yours.

  And may these woods forever blessed be.

  Victoria Roshe

  Born in USSR, Victoria Roshe now lives in San Jose, California. She is a musician and a teacher of music. The sense of rhythm and melody is one of the traits that gives her poetry a very unique and haunting feel. She has published two poetry books in Russian, Привкус боли and Маленькие Стихи.

  Andrey Kneller

  Born in 1983, in Moscow, Russia, Andrey was ten when his family immigrated to New York City. Fluent in both languages, he started to write poetry in English and to translate Russian poetry at the age of 14. Among others, he has translated the works of Alexander Pushkin, Vladimir Mayakovsky, Marina Tsvetaeva, Anna Akhmatova, and Boris Pasternak.

  Thank you for taking the time to read my work. Translation is a labor of love. Over time, what I’ve learned is that you often get back what you put into it. I enjoy every minute of it as it allows me to not only delve deeper into the poetry I love, but to also share this love with you, my readers.

  My hope is that this book will lead you to explore my other books of Russian poetry translations. For a full-list of my books, see the following page.

  If you enjoyed my work and have a moment to spare, I would really appreciate a short review. Your help in spreading the word is gratefully received.

  Also, I would like to invite you to visit my new website dedicated to Russian poetry translations: Discernible Sound. As always don’t hesitate to contact me with any questions and/or comments.

  Sincerely,

  Andrey Kneller

  Also by Andrey Kneller:

  Wondrous Moment: Selected Poetry of Alexander Pushkin

  Evening: Poetry of Anna Akhmatova

  Rosary: Poetry of Anna Akhmatova

  White Flock: Poetry of Anna Akhmatova

  Final Meeting: Selected Poetry of Anna Akhmatova

  My Poems: Selected Poetry of Marina Tsvetaeva

  Backbone Flute: Selected Poetry of Vladimir Mayakovsky

  February: Selected Poetry of Boris Pasternak

  Unfinished Flight: Selected Poetry of Vladimir Vysotsky

  O, Time…: Selected Poetry of Victoria Roshe

  Discernible Sound: Selected Poetry

  The Stranger: Selected Poetry of Alexander Blok

 
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net

Share this book with friends

Victoria Roshe's Novels