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By Joseph A. Brodsky
The English Poetic Translations, by Anna Polibina-Polansky
*** ("Vosslavim prihod vesny! Opolosnyom litso...")
Let us exhault the spring's coming. Followingly, we will wash
The face with creosote, we will burn up the pimples.
We will come at a thin shirt, outside onto the porch. The squash
Of air and horizon will strike the out coming people.
The future fills up the lungs like the soil of seeds,
Like the voices - of hospitality and sweet joy.
Hither an...
Three more poetic reels in English, by Anna Polibina-Polansky, of great European lyricists of the beginning of the 20th century.
Cavafis (the best poet of Brodsky), Gippius and Blok.
facebook.com/anna.polibina (postures for April, the 20th, 2020).
Warm Welcoming Like Always, viewers and estimators, amateurs and connoisseurs.
...
New themes have come up! Warm welcoming, viewers!
In order to venerate the Holy Week. "Caravaggio and Caruani": ancient spiritual legends and how they are revealed nowadays. A poetic reel by Anna Polibina-Polansky, one filmed by the author, in Malta (in Russian verses):
www.youtube.com/watch?v=IMqs-Cvx8pk
A poetic shortcut film dedicated to the personality of Joseph Brodsky (part 1), by Anna Polibina-Polansky. A poetic film of Sicilia, by Anna Polibina-Polansky. www.facebook.c...
By Joseph Brodsky
The English Poetic Translations, by Anna Polibina-Polansky
"1972. To Victor Golyshev: an Excerpt"
...What I could lose, is lost now, almost cheerfully,
At a rough measure, reached is all, nearly.
What was prescribed, I approached, dear me!
Those cuckoo's sounds late, no one's counting.
All the existence lies up lied by gossipers;
Justified is, by aging, what causes pang.
Hearing all, what was meant for up voicing, now
Is for that shee...
By Joseph Brodsky
The English Poetic Renditions, by Anna Polibina-Polansky
* * *
I once entered instead a wild beast, into a cell.
I burned up my nick name and my term with a nail,drown.
At a ditch of the jail.
Of a gambling tough, at a seashore, I felt the smell;
I had lunches with one never knows whom, with a frock at my back; I inhaled
Icy avalanches, from a peak, watching a half of the world.
Twice I was cut up at two, and thrice I got drown.
So I left the country that had fed me u...
Out of the Poetic Volume "Hosanna to My Anguish" by Anna Polibina-Polansky
Out of Joseph Brodsky
The English Poetic Renditions, by Anna Polibina-Polansky
* * * A Part of Speech
...With the word "upcoming", out of the Russian speech true,
There run away mice, they are at their minor roles.
So they gnaw out a piece of the memory, those cunning creatures,
At the fat cheese, they make some enormous holes.
After many a year, it makes no difference what
(What or, ratther, ...
By Joseph Brodsky
The English Poetic Translations, by Anna Polibina-Polansky
* * * An Extract. To M.B.
It's afternoon. November. From the wind,
Just naked trees, defended are, somehow.
Whose flesh is covered up, one's trembling here.
Along the columns, I do keep my pace.
The glass of palaces exhalts the sunset
And doves which are, so evenly, up gathered
About the weighing chalice of some blinded goddess;
The cup is full of butts, up to its rim.
The ancient watch does show us t...
By Joseph Brodsky
The English Poetic Translations by Anna Polibina-Polansky
* * *
In order to spatter the grief due,
With hollow, light-headed, sweet words,
The life of a poet - I'm leading.
Of course, this strange life may not hurt.
In order, to see, at a window,
Some face, after shouts "farewell"...
No matter that smiles are nt sweet so, -
I'm eager, my fortune to tell.
Just at the dawn of the existence,
Of movements, with God all at sight,
I'...
By Joseph Brodsky
The English Poetic Translations, by Anna Polibina-Polansky
The Epigraph:
I made contents of jails.
To their greatest singer,
As I had grown there,
I offered my last cigar.
* * *
I'd not choose an exile sweet,
Nor a graveyard that dark.
The Vassilyevsky Island,
Greet my death with a spark.
You would not face my figure,
You would not meet my youth.
'Mong the lines getting bleaker,
Sidewalks, prompt me the truth!
Infatiguable souls
All make haste, ...
By Joseph A. Brodsky
The English Poetic Renditions, by Anna Polibina-Polansky
* * * The Piers of Fagherdala
The trees whistle about at night, at the shore of a strait.
It looks as if it is drizzling, though it's late.
Willow-trees, speaking nothing of pine-trees,
Do not try to recognize themselves at frequent waves.
The sheen is sharp like a needle, it's of no stark creed
Towards the horizontal water, accurately up shaved.
At surface, lurk the world's reminders.
So the slee...
By Joseph A. Brodsky
The English Poetic Translations, by Anna Polibina-Polansky
Ritratto di donna ("Zhenskiy portret")
The portrait is stale, withered, like a bunch
In her hands. Lies do touch the up craved future.
Dark eyes watch just tomorrow, not confused, yet.
The vases at the arch, are her long puns.
The folders of the mouth, of organza
Remind a curtain twinkling. Tools for walking
Are closed at her fluffy angle lurking.
So for a Prophet, she is not bizzare.
The twinkli...
By Vyacheslav Ivanov
The English Poetic Translation, by Anna Polibina-Polansky
* * *
("Evropa. Utra hmuriy holod...")
Oh, Europe! It's cold is gloomy.
It walks and frowns darkened brows.
By Cyclopes, so, the Hammer's loosened
And Gothic churches fly in rows.
Oh Russia, widening are rails;
Along the snow, drawn are knots.
Along a path, the chains yet whail,
Along the path of roaming lots.
Oh sod, the oceans' foam is grey,
The bones of mounts are ...
By Joseph Brodsky
The Poetry Translation into English, by Anna Polibina-Polansky
* * * Six Years Later
("Tak dolgo vmeste prozhili, chto vnov'...")
We'd lived together, dear, for so long,
That January, the second fell at Thuesday,
Again. Amazed, the wipers sung their song.
The going sadness was brief and confusing.
The distant contours were left truly pure.
All was habitual, prepared, endured.
The snow seemed, to fall forevermore.
My palm allowed her to esca...
Poetry by Joseph Brodsky
The English Poetic Translations, by Anna Polibina-Polansky
Love: Justifications
("Ya dvazhdy probuzhdalsya etoy noch'yu...")
I got awakened twice, inside the gloom.
I made my way to windows enlightened.
An extract of a phrase addressed to whom,
I'd not have told... The silence - filled the room.
I wasn't, yet, consoled. The night got tighter.
I dreamed of you, that pregnant. Therefore
We actually had parted. I am blaming
Myself. T...
By Joseph Brodsky
The English Poetic Renditions, by Anna Polibina-Polansky
* * * An Up Loaded Trolley
("Skrip teleg tem sil'ney...")
So coaches and trolleys all were squeaking -
The more, the denser grew the shadows long.
The path in wheats was all in briars, weak so.
The squeaking grew with that malicious song.
To woods, were coming those ways, through pastures.
The wind gave such a generous, wide gesture.
The beeches and the birches trembled swifter.
The pile of stems ...
By Joseph Brodsky
The English Poetic Rendition, by Anna Polibina-Polansky
* * *
("Я слышу не то, что ты говоришь, а голос...")
I hear not what you speak of, but, rather, a voice.
I watch not your garments, but the even surface of a snow-white.
It's a pole where we sit, not a room, and I would rejoice
The face that, by our traces, is lead away from chilly notions.
Once I knew by heart, all hues of the scope.
Now my spectrum is totally white, baf...
By Joseph Brodsky
The English Poetic Translation by Anna Polibina-Polansky
* * * In Memory of Dad: Australia
("Ty ozhil, prisnilos' mne, i uehal...")
You got revived, I dreamed of it. You went there -
So, to Australia. The voice, thrice echoed.
It called me and complaint of the climate wretched,
And, with the housing, they can't still tackle.
It's pitiful, the center is afar.
But still, the ocean is nearby, yet.
The third floor, and the bath is all ajar.
...
By Joseph Brodsky
The English Poetic Rendition, by Anna Polibina-Polansky
A Particle of Speech (the Beginning)
To Mom and Dad
The 24th of December, 1971 (to V.S.)
When it's Christmas, all folks are wizards.
At a store, coffee pies are demanded.
People delve into shops, like swift lizards.
The besiege of the shop is dismantled
From grey snow. And folks are like camels
And like kings, - busy, hustling and shameless.
Bags and packages, plastic and paper.
Scarfs...
I am often asked if I create my own love lyrics. Surely I do, but it is hidden at the bottom of files and notebooks. Now it is high time I ought to place an excerpt here. It has got an addressee, and now I am happy in love. This extract is devoted to the primary stage of our mutual affection. A lyricist needs to be accompanied by a unique, unrepeating feeling. Thank you for all who prayed for my happiness in this meaningful affair. Now we love at my kiddish emotions, but poetry is more or less w...
By Anna Akhmatova
The English Poetic Translations, by Anna Polibina-Polansky
The Dog-Rose Is at Bloom
Out of a Down Burnt Blocknote
Is it sweet to watch unearthly dreams? An Epigraph by A.Blok
Three Excerpts from a Poetic Cycle
6. A Dream
So was it a foretelling dream? Who knows?
The planet Mars exhaulted its bright sheen.
So it became malicious, dark and snowing.
So I dremed of your coming, yet, unseen.
"Chakone", one of Bach, reminded him.
And roses that stood all i...
By Leo Loseff (a Literary Friend of Brodsky)
Two English Poetic Translations, by Anna Polibina-Polansky
* * *
("Poezd polzyot cherez lug sipya...")
So the train is crawling across the grass,
So it moans under the rain, as it pass
The haystock up fiddled. I have to compose
Two lines of the life with which I can't boast.
So at falls the windows are enough
To make brows cold. Oh, this rain is rough.
And I linger to compose of love
And of the lady in black, of its hasty dove...
By Joseph A. Brodsky
The English Poetic Translations, by Anna Polibina-Polansky
*** The Christmas Star
("V holodnuyu poru, v mestnosti, privychnoy, skorey, k zhare...")
At a cold season, at the vicinities of sultry spheres,
When the deserts are preferred to mounts, under terms severe,
A baby was born at a cave, in order to save the world.
Snow or sand swept about, and clouds got twirled.
So everything seemed immense to him: Mom's bosom and yellow vapor
From the nostrils of...
By Joseph A. Brodsky
The English Poetic Translations, by Anna Polibina-Polansky
***
("Kamenniy shprits vpryskivaet geroin...")
At the Vicinities of Alexandria
To Carl Proffer
The stony syringe injects strong drugs
Into a bunch of soft muscles.
The spy digs at a wastebin with bugs
And takes away a crumpled draft of ruins reminding a puzzle.
Everywhere about, someone at a saddle,
With the hooves of a mare at a monument, still can be seen.
So the cavaliers, with their sheets r...
By Joseph Brodsky
The English Poetic Translation, by Anna Polibina-Polansky
* * * ("Vecher. Razvaliny geometrii...")
An evening. Ruines of geometry.
A point left from an entire angle.
So the further, the more subjectless is are the contours.
So folks get naked, from shoulders to ankles.
So folks get stopped in getting nude and off speeled.
So the bushes hide away the rest.
So the seal of the sense is concealed,
It can be considered for the best.
So the else goes easily heale...
By Joseph A. Brodsky
The English Poetic Translation, by Anna A. Polibina-Polansky
* * *
("Tochka vsegda obozrimey v kontse pryamoy...")
A point is more precise, at the end of a line. So the tune is sung.
The closed eyelids snatch the outer space. So breathe the lungs.
The mouth pronounces everyhting but, "Have mercy at me, oh my God!"
So the gibberish is distinctly heard, though from the sod.
So we learn that are sinful, all on the spot.
So the reduction starts up wi...
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About Anna Polibina-Polansky
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