Posts tagged with "russian poetry"


Have you ever wished for a time machine? What would you use «машина времени» for if you did have it? The protagonists of Soviet «научная фантастика» [science fiction] were always using time machines for various noble deeds, such as dinosaur research or, say, trying to save «одно из семи чудес света» [one of the seven wonders of the world]. Such «наивные паиньки» [naïve goody two shoes] these idealistic heroes were!

That’s why I immediately fell in love with «Назад в будущее» [Back to the Future] and all its sequels. I mean, here were folks using a time machine for their private, practical goals. And while the goals weren’t always perfect or even very ethical, they were realistic and refreshing.

All this goes to say that if I were to have a time machine, I would had used it to find out «что день грядущий мне готовит» [what tomorrow holds for me] and place my bets accordingly.

Like I wouldn’t even worry about travelling «в далёкое будущее» [to the distant future]. Instead, if I were to get a hold of «машина времени» today, I’d go to «2 августа этого года» [August 2nd of this year].

That’s the day when we’ll know for sure whether the US will default on its foreign debt, an event that, if it happens, will have tremendous impact on economies around the world.

Now, before I go any further, this is not a blog about politics or economics. This is a post about Russia and all things Russian. So while I can’t change the big picture, I can at least «использовать эту возможность» [use the opportunity] to go over some vocabulary.

You might remember that Russia went through its own «дефолт» [default] back in 1998. That’s actually the year the word itself entered everyday Russian conversations. Another way to translate “default” is «отказ от уплаты долга» [refusal to pay off debt] or «нарушение обязательств по выплате долга» [breach of obligations on debt repayment].

Moving on to the verb “to default”, things get a bit muddier. Here’s an example: «российский дефолт был объявлен в августе 1998-го года» [Russia defaulted in August of 1998].

“To default” can be translated as «объявить дефолт» or «прекратить выплату долговых обязательств» [stop repayment of debt] or «отказаться от выплаты долга» [refuse to repay debt]. And that’s how «пресса» [print media] reports it. But on the Internet, in chat rooms and forums, a word «дефолтнуть» has started to appear, meaning “to send into a default”.

The verb «дефолтнуть» is pretty interesting mostly because it is formed with a suffix «-ну-». Lots of Russian verbs use this suffix, but they can be categorized into 2 very different groups.

In the first category are verbs such as «гибнуть» [to perish], «мокнуть» [to become wet], «крепнуть» [to gain strength], «мёрзнуть» [to get cold], «слепнуть» [to lose eyesight], «вянуть» [to wither]. These verbs have corresponding adjectives and in general indicate a process of undergoing some sort of change.

 

Adjective -ну- Verb Sentence
Гиблый Гибнуть Коралловые рифы гибнут по всему миру. [All around the world, coral riffs are dying.]
Мокрый Мокнуть Пустынные аллеи мокнут под дождём [Deserted avenues are getting wet in the rain]
Мёрзлый Мёрзнуть Если у тебя мёрзнут ноги, одень тёплые носки [If your feet are cold, put on warm socks]
Слепой Слепнуть Продолжайте это делать и вы будете слепнуть [Continue doing this and you will be going blind]
Вялый Вянуть Почему цветы вянут, если их не поливать [Why flowers wither without watering]

In the second category are the verbs such as «прыгнуть» [to jump], «отдохнуть» [to rest], «стукнуть» [to hit], «глянуть» [to look], «зевнуть» [to yawn]. These verbs are perfective, formed from other verbs, and denote non-recurring or instantaneous actions.

 

Verb -ну- Verb Sentence
Прыгать Прыгнуть Кот прыгнул и поймал кузнечика. [The cat jumped and caught a grasshopper]
Отдыхать Отдохнуть Вернусь из коммандировки и отдохну по полной программе [I’ll rest for real after I get back from a business trip]
Глядеть Глянуть Глянул я в зеркало, а на меня оттуда морда небритая таращится [I took a look in the mirror; an unshaven mug stared back at me]
Зевать Зевнуть Что будет если чихнуть, кашлянуть и зевнуть одновременно? [What happens if you sneeze, cough, and yawn all at once?]

Even though «дефолтнуть» is not formed from a verb, it does carry the sense of non-recurring action. It is also a transitive verb, so an object this verb acts on will be in the accusative case as in «Грецию могут дефолтнуть» [Greece might be sent into a default].

Here’s something else super-interesting and special about the suffix «-ну-». Every Russian elementary school student knows that “All Russian words have «корень» [a root]”. That’s the rule. Of course, «нет правил без исключений» [there are no rules without exceptions]. Same here – in the whole Russian language there is ONE word that doesn’t have a root. It only has a prefix and 2 suffixes. One of these suffixes is «-ну-». Can you name the word?

As for default, I don’t have much else to say, except to post a list of words that just might come in handy come August 2nd:

«экономический кризис» – economic crisis

«мировой финансовый кризис» – world financial crisis

«подрыв доверия» – erosion of credibility

«падение уровня жизни» – drop in the living standards

«потолок госдолга» also «планка госдолга» – government debt ceiling

«резкое падение» – sharp fall, collapse

«крах» – crash

As for the dream of a time machine, it looks like the classic said it all:

Что день грядущий мне готовит?

Его мой взор напрасно ловит,
В глубокой мгле таится он.
Нет нужды; прав судьбы закон.

 

[This day to come, what will it bring?

My eyes in vain seek out the thing

That’s veiled in deepest mystery.

No matter: a just fate awaits me.]

Today is a special day. «Вы знаете, что случилось в этот день в далёком 1799-ом году [Do you know what happened on this day in the distant year of 1799?]  If you Google this date in Russian – «6 июня 1799 года» – the top result is the birth of «Александр Сергеевич Пушкин» [Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin].

Pushkin is the Zeus of Russian poetic Olympus. He’s Russian Dante. No, Russian Shakespeare! He is admittedly «величайший русский поэт» [the greatest Russian poet], solely responsible for creating «современный литературный русский язык» [the contemporary Russian literary language]. But don’t take my word for it, check it out for yourself in this Wiki page about Pushkin.

Russians start listening to Pushkin’s poetry «с младых ногтей» [from early childhood]. Remember the mythical «Лукоморье»? Pushkin not only defined it in the opening verses of «Руслан и Людмила» [Ruslan and Lyudmila], but wrote many of the now-classic fairy tales, including «Сказка о рыбаке и рыбке» [The Tale of the Fisherman and the Fish] and «Сказка о царе Салтане» [The Tale of Tsar Saltan].

To say that Pushkin wrote a lot would be an understatement. In addition to poems he wrote no-less brilliant and famous «романы» [novels], «рассказы» [short stories], «афоризмы» [maxims], and «эпиграммы» [quips]. Russians quote his «бессмертные строки» [immortal lines] in everyday speech, sometimes without knowing the author.

Now, don’t get me wrong. Few Russians can «декламировать» [recite] any of Pushkin’s poems «от начала до конца» [from start to finish]. But if you were to ask to recite «что-нибудь из Пушкина» [some of Pushkin’s works], they will recall at least a line or two. Most popular in my unofficial survey seem to be:

«Я помню чудное мгновенье, передо мной явилась ты» [I remember the magic moment when you appeared to me]

«Мороз и солнце – день чудесный!» [Frost and sunshine: day of wonder!]

«У Лукоморья дуб зелёный» [A green oak grows in Lookomorie]

«Я к вам пишу, чего же боле? Что я могу ещё сказать?» [I write to you - no more confession is needed, nothing’s left to tell]

As for the «крылатые фразы» [popular quotations], the ones I hear or say most often include:

«А счастье было так возможно, так близко!» [And happiness was so possible, so near!]

«И сердце вновь горит и любит» [And the heart once again is ablaze and in love]

«К беде неопытность ведёт» [Inexperience leads to misfortune]

«Ещё одно последнее сказанье» [Just one last tale]

«Кто раз любил, тот не полюбит вновь» [Who loved once shall never love again]

«Любви все возрасты покорны» [To love all ages surrender]

«Я сам обманываться рад!» [I am glad to be made a fool!]

«Быть можно дельным человеком и думать о красе ногтей» [One can be both a sensible person and care about one’s nails]

«Жизнь, зачем ты мне дана» [Life, why were you given me?]

Pushkin has become ubiquitous in Russian life – streets, squares and theaters named after him, children committing his works to memory all through high school, references to Pushkin’s work throughout contemporary Russian literature, etc. So it’s no surprise that when one is expected to do something and doesn’t, he might be asked «а делать кто будет? Пушкин?» [Do you think Pushkin is going to do this?]:

«Коля, кто за тебя будет домашнюю работу делать, Пушкин что-ли?» [Kolya, do you think Pushkin is going to do your homework for you?]

«Сломать-то ты сломал, а чинить кто будет? Пушкин?» [Of course, you broke it, but who’s going to fix it? Pushkin?]

And now I have questions for you:

  1. What is one phrase that springs to mind when you hear the name Pushkin?
  2. Which American movie features General Pushkin (hint: General Gogol is also in it)?

We are taking a break from posts about «история Киева» [the history of Kiev] to do something a bit more literary today. In my Russian class, we have been working on a poem for the past two weeks. It’s called «Летний сад» [Summer Garden], written by the wonderful «Анна Ахматова» [Anna Akhmatova]. «Когда я была в Питере, Летний сад был закрыт» [When I was in Piter (St. Petersburg), the Summer Garden was closed]. In the photo: «вид на Летний сад с Прачечного моста» [a view of the Summer Garden from Prachechny Bridge]. «Что такое Прачечный мост?» [What is Prachechny Bridge?] «Он – мост через Фонтанку, где она вытекает из Невы [It's a bridge over the Fontanka where it (i.e. the Fontanka) flows out of the Neva.] (Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.)

Oh, as an important side note: it’s been a week today since the «теракт» [terrorist attack] in «Домодедово» [Domodedovo]. Our very own Yelena wrote a moving post last week. Perhaps, after you read this, you could observe a moment of silence to remember the victims and their families.

Here is the poem:

Я к розам хочу, в тот единственный сад,
Где лучшая в мире стоит из оград,

Где статуи помнят меня молодой,
А я их под невскою помню водой.

Translation:

I want to be with the roses, in the one and only garden,
Where the best fence in the world is,

Where the statues remember me when I was young,
And I remember them under the waters of the Neva.

One thing that struck me we read the poem «вслух» [out loud] was how much prepositions blend with the words after them: «к розам» really sounds like «крозам», as if it were one word.

Here are the next four lines of the poem. I absolutely love the imagery.

В душистой тиши между царственных лип
Мне мачт корабельных мерещится скрип.

И лебедь, как прежде, плывёт сквозь века,
Любуясь красой своего двойника.

Translation:

In the fragrant quiet between regal lime trees
The creak of the ship’s masts is haunting me.

And the swan, as before, sails through the ages,
Admiring the beauty of its double.

«Как вы думаете о стихотворение?» [What do you think of the poem?]

I confess I have tricked you a bit, «дорогие читатели» [dear readers]. That’s only half the poem. You’ll have to wait to Wednesday «часть вторая» [part two] of this post…

YouTube Preview Image

Do you remember David, our guest blogger who wrote about letters of the Russian alphabet and also about why we say “двести“? Not surprisingly given his interest in Russian language he is also a member of a Russian “кружок” [club, lit: small circle]. At one of their recent meetings the club members discussed one of the most beautiful and touching songs, “Журавли” [Cranes], about Soviet soldiers killed in the Great Patriotic War. David was kind enough to send me the notes from the discussion and to allow to post them on this blog.

«Журавли

Мне кажется порою, что солдаты,
С кровавых не пришедшие полей,
Не в землю эту полегли когда-то,
А превратились в белых журавлей.

Они до сей поры с времен тех дальних
Летят и подают нам голоса.
Не потому ль так часто и печально
Мы замолкаем, глядя в небеса?

Летит, летит по небу клин усталый -
Летит в тумане на исходе дня,
И в том строю есть промежуток малый -
Быть может, это место для меня!

Настанет день, и с журавлиной стаей
Я поплыву в такой же сизой мгле,
Из-под небес по-птичьи окликая
Всех вас, кого оставил на земле

First verse

«Мне кажется» [It seems to me] – A very useful expression. Another similar and equally useful expression is «по-моему» [in my opinion], however «кажется» indicates a lesser degree of assuredness.

«Порою», form of «порой»  – here the alternative feminine singular instrumental ending «-ою» is used in place of the more usual modern «–ой». «Порою» comes from «пора» and means “at times” or “on occasion”. Compare this to the word «днём»  [by day] that comes from «день» [day] and «ночью» [by night] comes from «ночь» [night]. It is more common to say «порой». «Пора» in its various forms is used a lot, for example «мне пора» [I must go; lit. to me it’s time] or «с тех пор» [since then; lit. from those times]. Later in the song we see a related expression «до сей поры» [until now].

Right stress in the word «пора» is important. Pronounced as «пора» the word means “pore”.

«…солдаты, с кровавых не пришедшие полей…» –  Here we see how the declension system gives the songwriter the freedom to play with word order in a way that just doesn’t work in English. Translating word-for-word we get “(the) soldiers from bloody not returned fields”. However the Russian makes perfect sense when we see how the case endings match up. «Пришедшие» is a past active participle derived from «прийти» (normally to arrive, but here better interpreted as to return), and its ending «–ие» makes it nominative plural, so it goes with «солдаты» [soldiers]. «Кровавых» [bloody] and «полей» [fields] have genitive plural endings so they go together as adjective and noun, despite having another word between them. Not keeping adjectives and their nouns together was common in Latin, but in Russian I think it is confined to songs and poetry. So the whole phrase «солдаты, с кровавых не пришедшие полей» means: the soldiers who didn’t come back from bloody battlefields.

«Не в землю эту полегли когда-то» - more or less literally the phrase means “did not lie down in that ground then”. Usually «когда-то» means “at some time” (definite but not known or specified by the speaker or writer), but here it doesn’t really work in English and “then” is probably the best way of translating it. Note that «в землю эту» is accusative, so «полегли» suggests the act of laying oneself to rest in the ground rather than the state of being buried. A looser translation perhaps more true to the spirit is “Do not lie in the ground where they fell”…

There’s a very strong imagery connected with the word «полегли» [felled]. When grass is flattened by wind, rain or hail, it is said «трава полегла» [felled grass].  So there’s this very emotional tie-in back to the previous line about «кровавые поля» [bloody fields]. The image is of men like blades of grass, reaching for the sun, but felled by force. Also, there’s a counter-point here: «полегшая трава» [felled grass] can straighten up again in a few hours and continue its growth, but fallen soldiers cannot come back.

«А превратились в белых журавлей.» [But turned into white cranes.] –  «Превратиться» [to turn into] is a useful verb that can be used reflexively, like here, or non-reflexively as in the line from another popular song «Миллион алых роз» [A Million of Scarlet Roses]: «Свою жизнь для тебя превратит в цветы» [Will turn his own life into flowers for you.]

Second verse

«Они до сей поры с времен тех дальних» [Since those times until now] – in «до сей поры», we have «пора» in its singular genitive form, so the implication is “right now” rather than “nowadays”.

«Летят и подают нам голоса.» [(they) Fly and give us (their) voices]

«Не потому ль так часто и печально/ Мы замолкаем, глядя в небеса [Isn’t this why, often, sadly,/ we fall silent, looking into the skies.] Note «замолкаем», from «замолчать», perfective of «молчать» [to be silent]. English lacks a simple verb for saying nothing. Note how the interrogative participle «ли» is shortened here to «ль» (like «бы» is sometimes shortened to «б»). «Небеса» is the plural of «небо».   

Third verse

«Летит, летит по небу клин усталый» – A «клин» is a wedge: obviously here it refers to the V-formation in which these birds fly. Direct translation doesn’t really work in English. Perhaps the best way to translate this line (rather loosely) is “the weary formation flies and flies on through the sky”… 

«Летит в тумане на исходе дня,» [ it flies in the mist at the end of the day…]
«И в том строю есть промежуток малый» [and in that formation is a small gap…] – «Строю» comes from the noun «строй» [here - formation]. It is related to the verb «строить» [ to build]. «Строй» is one of those masculine nouns that has a special prepositional ending «у» or, as in this case, «ю». These special «у/ю» endings are always stressed, and they only apply when the preposition is «в» or «на».  Note that although the noun «строй» can also be translated as “array” or “line-up”, the most contextually appropriate translation in this case is “formation” as in soldiers assembled in formation.

«Быть может, это место для меня – Maybe, that place is for me!

Fourth verse

«Настанет день, и с журавлиной стаей» [The day will come, and with the flock of cranes] – literally, crane flock; «журавлиной» is feminine instrumental of crane as an adjective and «стаей» is instrumental singular of «стая» [flock]. «Стая» is not only for birds – «стая волков» [pack of wolves].

«Я поплыву в такой же сизой мгле» [I will fly in just such a grey gloom.] – «Поплыть» would normally imply moving through water, but the physics of swimming, sailing and flying are basically the same.  

«Из-под небес по-птичьи окликая» [calling from the skies in the language of the birds]. «По-птичьи» is formed in analogy to «по-русски», based on the adjective derived from «птица» [bird, noun] – «птичий» [bird, adjective]. Animal adjectives are soft and decline slightly differently to the normal adjectives – apart from the masculine nominative they have the soft sign «ь» before the case ending. «Окликая» (a present gerundive) is derived from the verb «окликать» [to call to, to hail]. The people who are hailed are direct objects, which helps us make sense of the case endings in the last line…

«Всех вас, кого оставил на земле» [All of you, whom I have left behind on the earth] – The songwriter was able to leave out «я» before «оставил», because the only logical subject for this verb is the «я» in the second line of this verse.

So, here is my free translation:

Cranes

It sometimes seems to me that all the soldiers

Who never returned from bloody battlefields

Do not lie in the ground where they fell

But turned into white cranes

From those distant times right up to now

They fly and give us their voices

Is this not why we often, and with sorrow

Fall silent, looking to the skies

The weary formation flies and flies on through the sky

It flies in the mist at the end of the day

And in that formation there’s a tiny space

It could be – that place is for me!

The day will come, and with the flock of cranes

I’ll be flying in just such a grey gloom

Calling from the skies in the language of the birds

To all of you I’ve left behind on earth.

«Унылая пора, очей очарованье» [a melancholy season, bewitchment for the eyes] – that’s how Alexander Pushkin described «осень» [autumn]. The classic wasn’t alone in «воспевание» [celebration, lit.: singing of praises] of this «закатный сезон» [sunset season].

Russian poets love autumn (ok, it’s called Fall here, in the USA, but autumn seems a bit more romantic to me). Poetic descriptions of «золотая осень» [golden autumn] include such adjectives as «лирическая» [lyrical], «увядающая» [withering], «печальная» [melancholy], but also «пышная» [magnificent], «загадочная» [mysterious], «дивная» [wondrous], «спокойная» [calm].

The colors of autumn for their exalted brilliance – «багряный» [scarlet], «пурпурный» [purple], «золотой» [golden], «бордовый» [burgundy]. As the autumn draws to a close and winter nears, the colors fade and disappear into «белый» [white], «чёрный» [black] and «серый» [grey].

«Обнищало листьев злато» [Golden leaves have grown threadbare] writes «Вячеслав Иванов» [Vyacheslav Ivanov] comparing late autumn with poverty.  «Как грустны сумрачные дни беззвучной осени и хладной» [How sad are the gloomy days of autumn, silent and cold] writes «Афанасий Фет» [Afanasi Fet]. And yet, most if not all poems about the season are anything but hopeless or depressing.

Fet himself admits that «Но есть и дни, когда в крови золотолиственных уборов горящих осень ищет взоров и знойных прихотей любви» [But there are days when, in the blood of golden-leafed wear, autumn searches for blazing glances and sultry whims of love].

So I figured we haven’t played a literary game in a while. Why not now? Let’s make it about autumn and Russian poets. Can you match these six poems to their authors?

1.      «Поспевает брусника,
Стали дни холоднее,
И от птичьего крика
В сердце стало грустнее.»

[Cranberries are ripening,

Days have grown colder,

The heart is saddened

With birds’ clamor]

2.      «Лес, точно терем расписной,
Лиловый, золотой, багряный,
Веселой, пестрою стеной
Стоит над светлою поляной.»

[Forest, just like a painted palace -

Purple, golden, scarlet -

Stands over a bright glade

As a cheery dappled wall.]

3.      «Осень. Древний уголок
Старых книг, одежд, оружья,
Где сокровищ каталог
Перелистывает стужа.»

[Autumn. An ancient corner with

Old books, dresses, weapons,

Where biting frost is leafing through

The catalog of treasure.]

4.      «Есть в осени первоначальной
Короткая, но дивная пора
Весь день стоит как бы хрустальный,
И лучезарны вечера…»

[At the beginning of autumn

There is a short, but wondrous time

When days seem made of crystal

And evenings are radiant…]

5.      «Нивы сжаты, рощи голы,
От воды туман и сырость.
Колесом за сини горы
Солнце тихое скатилось.»

[Fields are reaped, woods are bare,

Fog and dampness rise from water.

Wheel-like, quiet sun rolls down

Behind blue mountains.]

6. «Заплаканная осень, как вдова

В одеждах чёрных, все сердца туманит…

Перебирая мужнины слова,

Она рыдать не перестанет.»

[Tear-stained autumn like a widow

Dressed in black, dimming all hearts…

Recalling her husband’s every word,

She won’t stop crying.]

 And the poets are:

a) «Константин Бальмонт» [Konstantin Balmont]

b) «Фёдор Тютчев» [Fyodor Tyutchev]

c) «Иван Бунин» [Ivan Bunin]

d) «Анна Ахматова» [Anna Ahmatova]

e) «Борис Пастернак» [Boris Pasternak]

f) «Сергей Есенин» [Sergei Yesenin]

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