Osip Mandelstam


  • Administrator
  • Hero Member
  • *****
    • Posts: 827132
    • Gender:Male
  • point d’amour

Osip Emilyevich Mandelstam (Russian: О́сип Эми́льевич Мандельшта́м; IPA: [ˈosʲɪp ɪˈmʲilʲjɪvʲɪtɕ məndʲɪlʲˈʂtam]; 15 January [O.S. 3 January] 1891 – 27 December 1938) was a Russian poet and essayist who lived in Russia during and after its revolution and the rise of the Soviet Union

Literary criticism:
A coat of many colors: Osip Mandelstam and his mythologies of self-presentation

You’re not dead yet, and you are not alone

You’re not dead yet, and you are not alone,
With a gamine by your side
You breathe the open plain,
its howling cold, its mists.

In sumptuous poverty, in potent need,
You shall be peaceful and contented.
Blessed are these days and nights,
And sinless are your silver-throated labors.

Unhappy is he who fears the dog’s bark
And the slicing wind, like his own shadow,
And poor is he who, half-alive,
Comes begging kindness from a shade.

15-16 January 1937. Translated by Val Vinokur

Another translation:
Ars Interpres Publications

You are not dead yet, not alone,
While with a beggar woman-friend
You are delighted by the greatness of plains,
By darkness, snow blizzard and cold.

In the luxurious poverty, in powerful destitution
You live all calm and all consoled.
Blessed are those days and nights,
And sinless is your mellifluous work.

The one who is scared by the bark and cut by wind
Is like a shadow, unhappy.
Poor is the one, who half alive himself,
From another shadow is still begging.

1937 Translated from the Russian by Andrey Gritsman

There are women who belong to the damp earth

There are women who belong to the damp earth,
Whose every step is like resounding sobbing.
To escort the resurrected and to be the first
To greet the dead is their calling.
To demand tenderness from them is a crime,
And to part with them exceeds our powers.
Today, an angel, tomorrow, a worm from the grave,
And the day after—nothing but a shadow...
All that was moving once will be removed...
Flowers are immortal, the sky is all-embracing,
And what will be is no more than a promise.

4 May 1937. Translated by Ilya Bernstein
« Last Edit: 14 Feb, 2015, 10:15:35 by spiros »


Search Tools