A poem by Afanasy Fet, 19th century Russian conservative and "poet's poet." From his first volume of published poems.
O miraculous painting,
How familiar and dear you are to me:
With your white plains,
And full moon,
Light streams down from the high heavens,
And the snow sparkles,
And there's a lonely trail
Leading from the distant sleighs.
Чудная картина,
Как ты мне родна:
Белая равнина,
Полная луна,
Свет небес высоких,
И блестящий снег,
И саней далеких
Одинокий бег.
trans. Joshua Walker 2008
comments and concerns welcome!
1 comment:
It's interesting to me that the Russian original is fairly sparse on verbs (I know that 'to be' is implied in the present tense) and prepositions. This makes it seem a lot more disconnected than the translation. Or maybe makes the translation seem a little embellished? Dunno, just thinkin'.
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