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Marina Tsvetaeva

Bride of Ice

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Marina Tsvetaeva is among the great European poets of the twentieth century. With Anna Akhmatova, Boris Pasternak and Osip Mandelstam, she retained her humanity and integrity through Russia's 'terrible years' of the Great Terror. Even in her long, tragic exile, her roots were in Russia and the great tradition of Russian poetry. Her voice lives in part because it remains alert to her past, and to cultures, especially French, where she spent her exile.
When Elaine Feinstein first read Tsvetaeva's poems in the 1960s, they transformed her. Their intensity and honesty spoke to her directly. To her first translations, published to acclaim in 1971, she added in later years, not least the sequence 'Girlfriend', dedicated to her lover Sofia Parnok. Feinstein published Tsvetaeva's biography in 1987.
Эта книга сейчас недоступна
108 бумажных страниц
Правообладатель
Bookwire
Дата публикации оригинала
2023
Год выхода издания
2023
Издательство
Carcanet Classics
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Цитаты

  • UGLYPUPцитирует9 лет назад
    How is your life? Are you
    healthy? How do you sing?
    How do you deal with the pain
    of an undying conscience, poor man?
    How is your life with a piece of market
    stuff, at a steep price.
    After Carrara marble,
    how is your life with the dust of
    plaster now? (God was hewn from
    stone, but he is smashed to bits.)
    How do you live with one of a
    thousand women after Lilith?
    Sated with newness, are you?
    Now you are grown cold to magic,
    how is your life with an
    earthly woman, without a sixth
    sense? Tell me: are you happy?
    Not? In a shallow pit? How is
    your life, my love? Is it as
    hard as mine with another man?
    1924
  • UGLYPUPцитирует9 лет назад
    An Attempt at Jealousy
    How is your life with the other one,
    simpler, isn’t it? One stroke of the oar
    then a long coastline, and soon
    even the memory of me
    will be a floating island
    (in the sky, not on the waters):
    spirits, spirits, you will be
    sisters, and never lovers.
    How is your life with an ordinary
    woman? without godhead?
    Now that your sovereign has
    been deposed (and you have stepped down).
    How is your life? Are you fussing?
    flinching? How do you get up?
    The tax of deathless vulgarity
    can you cope with it, poor man?
    ‘Scenes and hysterics I’ve had
    enough! I’ll rent my own house.’
    How is your life with the other one
    now, you that I chose for my own?
    More to your taste, more delicious
    is it, your food? Don’t moan if you sicken.
    How is your life with an image
    you, who walked on Sinai?
    How is your life with a stranger
    from this world? Can you (be frank)
    love her? Or do you feel shame
    like Zeus’ reins on your forehead?

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