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Открытие: 01.09.2009

Обновление: 10.02.2017

Группа "Анненская хроника"  

И. Ф. Анненский в переводах

английский     болгарский     грузинский     испанский     латышский     немецкий     польский     французский

Переводы Яна Пробштейна (Ian Probstein)

Переданы в собрание автором. Опубликованы в журнале 'Четыре века русской поэзии в переводах' (Four Centuries of Russian Poetry in Translation); благодарю издателя и редактора Илью Перельмутера (Ilya Perelmuter).
Интервью с Яном Пробштейном 9 июля 2013 г. Ещё об авторе здесь.

Тексты PDF 170 KB Источник: Four Centuries of Russian Poetry in Translation. 8-2014

I don't know, I can't explain... (Не могу понять, не знаю...)
Petersburg (Петербург)
Whether a star dims... (В небе ли меркнет звезда...)

Тексты PDF 150 KB Источник: Four Centuries of Russian Poetry in Translation. 10-2015

Double (Двойник)


Кипарисовый ларец. Bilingual edition. Translated by R. H. Morrison.
An Arbor Ardis, 1982 г. 113 с. бумажный переплет, обычный формат.
(Русский текст -- репринт изд.: М., книгоизд-во "Грифъ", 1910).


Евгений Бонвер (Yevgeny Bonver), английский язык.
Источник текстов и фото
: http://www.poetryloverspage.com/yevgeny/index.html
Февраль, 2001

Среди миров (Among the Worlds)
После концерта (
After the Concert)
Аметисты (
Тоска миража (The Anguish of a Mirage)
Осенний романс (The Autumnal Romance)
Смычок и струны (The Bow and the Strings)
Свечку внесли (The Candles Are Brought In)
Дети (Children)
Гармония (Harmony)

"Ноша жизни светла и легка мне..." ("My Life's Burden...")
Старая шарманка (The Old Barrel Organ)
Тоска припоминанья (The Pine Of Reminiscence)
Поэзия ("Творящий дух и жизни случай...") (Poetry)
Маки (Poppies)
Сентябрь (September)
Весенний романс (The Spring Romance)
Поэту (To the Poet)
Две любви (Two Loves)
Ты опять со мной (You're Again With Me)

Among the Worlds Оригинальный текст     переводы Е. Бонвера

Among the worlds, in glimmering of stars,
The single Star is ever my attraction:
Not 'cause I'd so loved Her so far,
But 'cause I live with others with aversion.

And if my doubts were an awful plight,
I just from Her wait for the final answers,
Not 'cause She sends to me the saving light,
But 'cause with Her I can live and in darkness.

After the Concert Оригинальный текст     переводы Е. Бонвера

The blackened skies have reached the garden walk;
Yet my poor heart tonight cannot be not the restless:
The lights that have been failed, the lost of sounds talk,
Are they the remnants of the dream in sadness?

Oh, how sad it was, the satin of her dress,
Her breast was very white, among the straps black fair!
How sorry I was then to see her eyes distressed,
Her hands in snowy gloves, resigned as to a prayer!

And how much her soul was mercilessly dispersed,
Among the tearless, cold-hearted and unsettled!
Like sounds, bred in silence, were there spelled -
The starry sounds - lilac, bright, and gentle!

Like at an anguish's flesh, from broken a lace,
In dazzling light of moon, with gentleness and fire,
Roll dawn amethysts into the dewy mire,
And die without trace.

Amethysts Оригинальный текст     переводы Е. Бонвера

My eyes forgot the heavens' blue,
To them the sun's dust is not gold,
But I live just one substance through,
That's to the amethyst's planes owned.

'Cause that that, drunker than young spring
And troubling stronger than idea,
The lilac fires have to sing
And coldly play with colors here.

And for the heart with pain and shame,
A dream comes, tender and deceiving:
As a crystal in the candles' flame,
To stay in cold of lilac singing.

The Anguish of a Mirage Оригинальный текст     переводы Е. Бонвера

They faded, the last bands of reddish,
Like whispers of prayers in night,
O tale, such seductive and maddish,
What else do you want of this heart?

Are not, beyond measure and count,
So hard in the snows my ways?
Aren't gray empty spaces around?
Isn't husky the ring of the bells?

And why, every minute and instant,
My heart is divided in two?
I know that she is in distance,
But feel her right near me, too.

Here they are, the snowy clouds,
I can't take my eyes from all that:
Right now, shall merge our routs
In snows, so white and so dead.

Right now will be silently bound
And newly unbound our sleighs.
We'll hear the bell's common sound
In an instant of sadness and pains:

We'd heard: But we'll not any more
Have meeting in this hazy night:
In the circle of anguish and woe
I wander on my path of blight:

They faded, the last bands of reddish,
Like whispers of prayers in night,
O tale, such seductive and maddish,
What else do you want of this heart?

The Autumnal Romance Оригинальный текст     переводы Е. Бонвера

I watch you as coldly as never,
But can't keep this pine in my breast,
Today sun's in smoke of havens,
And sadness makes heavy a breath.

I know, I breed just a fable -
At least, trust to fables, -- but you?:
Like needless oblations, in alleys,
Leaves fall in the mournful hue.

We're joined by the fate that was blinded:
Would God join us 'there' - behind sky?:
Don't laugh, if in spring days, delighted,
You'll step on the lives that here die.

The Bow and the Strings Оригинальный текст     переводы Е. Бонвера

How dark and heavy's the delirium's embrace!
How they're turbid under moon - the heights!
To have touched Violin for so many years
And not distinguish those Strings in light!

Who craves for us? Who, insolent, has set
In flames two faces, yellow and vexed,
And suddenly the saddened Bow felt
That someone took them and forever merged.

'How long ago it was - as in a dream -
Tell me trough dark: are you the same one, else?':
And Strings pressed close, caressing, to him,
Ringing and tossing in their fond caress.

'Is that all true, that it's enough, God blessed,
That we shall never ever part again?
And poor Violin replied him always 'yes',
Though its heart was sinking in sharp pain.

Bow fell silent, understanding, then,
But poor Violin still echoed its complaint,
And what seemed music to the most men,
To both of them was everlasting pain.

The man didn't blow, till the night was gone,
The candles : And the Strings were singing, yet:
And they were found, drained of strength, by sun
On the black velvet of the sleepless bed.

The Candles Are Brought In Оригинальный текст     переводы Е. Бонвера

Don't you have the strange vision sometimes
(When a dark penetrates in a house)
Of another existence for us,
Where we live in the other life's phases?

There, a shade's softly pressed to a shade,
And such wonderful minute there hovers,
Where as if, through the beams by eyes sent,
We unite our bodies and souls.

We afraid that a word or a move
Would get off this magnificent instant,
As if one puts his ear above
And recalls us to listen at distance.

But as soon as a candle is kindled,
Second world would this minute retire:
And from eyes through the light's rays inclined,
Shades would run into pale-blue of fire.

Children Оригинальный текст     переводы Е. Бонвера

Has time come? I'm fully ready.
If we've sinned - there's no a chance:
We - to prisons, they - to gladness:
Give to children - sun and grass!

When one's child - the life's thread's thinner,
Days are shorter in that age:
Do not scold a little 'sinner',
Pet a child without edge.

You're a looser if whenever
Cannot understand your child,
Drew child's whisper - what's a shame there!
Bigger shame - to raise his fright!

But the sinless children's tears
Can't be dried, tho' you confess,
'Tis because they always bear
Jesus Christ in holly rays.

But they which live like in prisons,
Whose arms are the thinnest threads:
People! Brothers! Aren't these reasons
Why our peace is only death?

Ego Оригинальный текст     переводы Е. Бонвера

A week son of the dying generation,
I would not seek the roses of Alps,
I will not gain the beautiful sensation,
Not from wave's noise, nor from young tempests hums.

But I would see on fields of scarlet glass
The brilliant and forever crying highlands,
The faded flowers in whites of tables' vase,
The ornament, that flame of evening founds.

And when my head has sunk in nightly rest,
I read dreamed stories, lost of any real,
Forgotten words of books, burned in forgotten past,
In hazy sleep, I kiss with hot appeal.

Harmony Оригинальный текст     переводы Е. Бонвера

In midst of waves, there are the silver beads
And scraped by time paints of the white enamel :
I so like the morns which autumn breeds,
For their caress, so short and so gentle.

And I do like the foam on the shore,
When it again is whitening in mire,
And, greedy, I am hiding here a store
Of hazy days, while skies are full of fire.

But somewhere there, they're roaming in flame,
The same ones as I am, without name and number,
And somebody's young being - just the same -
Instead of me, is ceasing in sad amber.

"I Thought That the Heart..."
I thought that the heart made of stone,
That it's fully empty and dead:
Though fire in it had been thrown,
It's not damaged or just upset.

And that's right: it was not tormented,
If - painful, then only a bit,
But, yet, it is better to end it,
Put out, while you can do it:

The heart is in darkness entire,
I've known: the victory's mine -
At last, we extinguished the fire:
And, yet, in a smoke I die.

"My Life's Burden..." Оригинальный текст     переводы Е. Бонвера

Le silence est l'ame des choses.

My life's burden's for me light and shone,
I won't you to be baffled or wound;
And not God, who had thought on a stone -
I do pity the stone he's found.

I do pity the violet, faded -
Just in vain - just forgot among pages,
And the mist, by which glass has been laden,
Then - dissolved by hot tears for ages.

Not the mad woman's pain, but the willow
Is awaking my heart's even sadness,
'Cause, while lulling this pain on leaves' pillows,
It was tired and cut by winds merciless.

The Old Barrel Organ Оригинальный текст     переводы Е. Бонвера

We almost lost our minds through that mad sky:
It blinds us with its fire or its snow,
And, baring teeth, like any beast of wild,
Old winter hides in April very slow.

No sooner has it fallen into sleep,
That has again its helmet over brows,
And those streams, gone into snow deeps,
Cease their song and freeze in deadly silence.

But all this is forgotten in the past,
The garden hums, and whitens vibrant stone,
And rooms look with opened windows' eyes,
At dark-green grass, over the road sown.

But only one - the barrel organ old
Shivers with cold in May of sunset's languor --
Can't ever grind all injuries recalled,
As it rotates the heedful shaft with anger.

This rusty barrel cannot understand
That all its work is void of any goal,
That any pain of old age extends,
On every pin and every turn, in whole.

But even if it once were to discern
Its own fate and fate of the street organ,
It would not ever cease to sing and turn --
'Cause every song is one of pain and moan.

The Pine Of Reminiscence Оригинальный текст     переводы Е. Бонвера

I see always the page that is filled on
By the muddy-black blotches of ink.
I am able from men to be hidden,
But to where could I run from night's brink?

All that live has become so distant,
That didn't come - so perfectly watched,
And forgotten lines merge from that instant
Till next dawn into many a blotch.

I'm all there - in impossible answers,
Where the letters of dreams loom in sight:
I like children to be in a house -
And these children to cry in the night.

Poetry Sonnet Оригинальный текст     переводы Е. Бонвера

The life's chance and creative spirit
United painfully in you,
And midst the beauty's hitting views
There's not so airy and exquisite:

In the world desert's sandy grounds -
Where all's a host, you fell in love
With cosmos of the different sounds
And flowers of troubled life.

Untouchable, transparent wholly!
We're pined by you, oh, goddess holly,
When, through pale slots, you, vaguely viewed,

Such grasp all our thought and body,
That if to fall in love with you -
Love will be mad for everybody.

Poppies Оригинальный текст     переводы Е. Бонвера

The gay day is ablaze: And in the languid grass
The poppies' patches burn like impotent desire:
Like lips that can allure or deathly poison us,
Or wings of butterfly, wide spread and red like fire.

The gay day is ablaze: But old and empty stands
This garden, long ago lost of the feasts and pleasure,
And poppies,weathered, like old women's heads,
Are warmly overspread by heaven chalice, azure.

September Оригинальный текст     переводы Е. Бонвера     вверх

The gardens full of gold and decay,
With lure of purple of the swelling ailments,
And tardy heat of sun in curves of sunbeam's remnants,
Unable to distil into the fragrant spray.

The carpets' yellow silk and traces, roughly laid,
And the avowed false of the preceding meeting,
And ponds of parks, extinguished, deep and sad,
And ready long ago for suffering and missing:

But ones' hearts only seek past beauty in decays,
Just the allurement of enchanted forces,
And they, who've tested the unearthly lotus,
Are thrilled by fragrance of autumnal days.

The Spring Romance Оригинальный текст     переводы Е. Бонвера

The river else doesn't wholly reign,
But pale-blue ice is drowned now;
And clouds are not blue again,
But sun had drunk the snow out.

Through a half-opened door,
You fret a heart with rustle; though:
You are not else in love; but lor!
You can't not fall in love tomorrow.

To the Poet Оригинальный текст     переводы Е. Бонвера

In different clearness of rays,
In addling amalgam of visions
We always live in world's things' reign
With its triad of space division.

And spreading borders of this life,
Or multiplying forms by fable,
To hide your I from not-I's eyes
You will be never-never able.

This power's your leading star,
It has your God and nature's law,
And before it, it's pale and far -
The Art, belittling things' great role.

You can not flee from slaving reign
To look for charms of airy smears,
The deepness is not verse's main,
But just a puzzle which it bears.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
So, love the clearness and rays,
In the aroma - their creation,
And cut bright bowls for the grace
And always integral receptions.

Two Loves Оригинальный текст     переводы Е. Бонвера

S. B. f-Shtein

There is such love that's similar to smoke:
If it is bound - it's intoxicating,
Receiving freedom - vanished, not awaiting:
Be like the smoke - but in young years locked.

There is such love that's similar to shade:
If it is day - lay by your feet - a hound,
If it is night - embraced you all around:
Be like the shade - together night and day:

You're Again With Me Оригинальный текст     переводы Е. Бонвера

You're again with me, my girlfriend autumn?
But through your net of the boughs bared,
Bluish tints were ne'er such pale and frozen,
And I don't recall the snow more dead.

I've not seen some sadder than your rabble,
And such black as all your lakes and streams,
In your skies - old, faded and unstable -
Yellow clouds of my painful dreams.

Just to see this all, while fully freezing:
How strangely new is this air cold:
Do you know, I thought, more dizzying
Is to see the empty deeps of words.



Alex Cigale, английский язык.

Источник: http://www.albany.edu/offcourse/issue41/cigale_translations1.html
Об авторе перевода, фото: http://www.blogger.com/profile/09879553998224020356

Among the Worlds Оригинальный текст

Among worlds shone, amid glimmers,
A single star whose name I repeat....
Not so that I may come to love it,
But because I am weary of the rest.

And if I find doubt a burden,
I seek only from her an answer,
Not because she shines brightly
But because with her I need no light.

Monday, 23 May 2011

Notturno To my friend, S. K. Bulich Оригинальный текст

Select a dark night and in a field, unpeopled, naked,
dip into gray twilight.... May the air, having fanned, becalm,
May the stars, winking, in the cold sky slumber on....
Tell the heart not to count its thumps....
Stop in mid-step and listen! You're not alone... The wings
of a bird, heavy, sodden, drift through the fog.
Listen:. it's the flight of a predator, a sovereign avian,
They call that bird T i m e, and on its wings is your will,
A passing dream of happiness, hopes' golden rags :

Sad country Оригинальный текст

Sad and made of copper
The symbol we are wed,
Even our comedies
End a little sadly:.
Our joyful neighbors
Wear their infernal
Hirsute fur coats:.
And that only: banal
Are our mangy bears
With prey trembling
In blood-covered lips.

*   *   *  Оригинальный текст

For what purpose, when dreams betray,
That words brim over with delusions?
For what purpose, on a forgotten grave,
Grass grows greener and emits a noise?

For what purpose these lunar heights,
If my garden is silent and dark?
And the tails of her plaits are untied,
And I hear their breath... for what?


Двуязычная антология русской поэзии From the Ends to the Begining. Weinberg College of Arts and Sciences, Northwestern University.
На сайте указаны три переводчика, но кто автор этих трёх переводов из Анненского -- не ясно.

Среди миров, английский язык. Оригинальный текст

Among Worlds

Among the worlds, the sparkling spheres,
The name of One Star only I repeat...
It's not because I love Her dearly
But just because I pine with others.

And when by doubt I'm troubled
I pray to Her alone for answers.
It's not because She gives off light,
But just because with Her I don't need light.

Бабочка газа, английский язык. Оригинальный текст

A Gas Butterfly

Tell me what's happening to me?
Why is my heart beating so fervently?
why has this madness, like a wave,
Broken through the rock of habit?

Is it my strength or just my torment
I'm too disturbed to tell:
From the shimmering lines of life
I extract a forgotten phrase...

Is it a thief who turns his lantern
Upon the crowd of dreary letters?
I can't help reading the phrase,
But haven't the strength to go back...

It really had to flare up,
But it only harries the darkness;
All night, like a gas-flame butterfly
It trembles, but cannot escape...

Смычок и струны, английский язык. Оригинальный текст

Bow and Strings

What heavy, dark delirium!
What dim and moonlit heights!
To touch the violin for years
And not to know the strings by light!

Who needs us now? And who lit up
Two hollow, melancholy faces...
And suddenly the bow felt
Someone take them up, unite them.

"How long it's been! Amidst this gloom
Just tell me this: are you still the same?"
The strings caressed the bow,
Rang out, caressed it slightly trembling.

"Is it not true, that we will never more
Be parted. It's enough..."
Yes, replied the violin,
But pain was throbbing in her heart.

The bow discerned it and grew mute,
The echo still continued in the violin...
What was a torture to them both
The people heard as music.

But the violinist didn't snuff
The candles out 'til dawn... The strings sang on...
The sun found them worn out
On the black velvet of their bed.


Среди миров Перевод на англ. О. Моисеенко и Маргариты Уэтлин, сопровождающие романс Ю. А. Шапорина. PDF



Библиография переводов И. Ф. Анненского на немецкий язык PDF, http://perelmuterverlag.de/page5.html
Любезно передана в собрание её составителем Ильёй Перельмутером. Он также прислал копии переводов

Иоганнеса Гюнтера из его антологии (2): Neue russische Lyrik. Hrsg. von Johannes Guenther. Fischer, 1960. S. 26-30;
Г. Баумана
из антологии (3): Russische Lyrik 1185-1963. Ausgewahlt und ubersetzt von Hans Baumann. Darmstadt, 1963;
Harry Сr. Fessler
и Annemarie Rau из антологии (4): Solang es dich mein Russland gibt. Russische Lyrik. Hrsg. von Roland
Opitz. Reclam, 1967, S. 70;
Bruno Goetz
из антологии Е. Эткинда (5): Russische Lyrik. Gedichte aus drei Jahrhunderten. Ausgewahlt und eingeleitet von Efim Etkind. Piper, 1987.

Wolkenrauch. Gedichte. Aus dem Russischen übertragen und herausgegeben von Martina Jakobson.
Hörby (Sweden): Edition Rugerup, 2010. Мягкий переплёт, 160 стр.



Переводы Жана Шюзевиля
Из книги: Jean Chuzewille. Anthologie des Poètes russes. Paris, 1914. См. о ней страницу В. Я. Брюсова

Среди миров. Перевод inconnu, фр. язык. Оригинальный текст

Перевод я нашёл на форуме "Ассоциации лексикографов Lingvo", http://www.lingvoda.ru/forum/actualtopics.aspx?bid=11где он открыт 10 ноября 2005 г.

Elle est la Seule dont je répète le nom
Au vacillement des étoiles lointaines:
Et mon amour vers elle n'est pas raison
Mais être avec des autres qui me peine.

Elle est la Seule qui donne du réconfort
Au cas où le malheur m'offense,
Et la lumière en elle est plutôt tort,
Mais c'est qu'elle fait briller l'ambiance.

Среди миров Перевод на фр. П. Люкэ, сопровождающие романс Ю. А. Шапорина. PDF



Анненский И. Тихие песни. Параллельные тексты на латышском и русском языках. Составил Янис Рокпелнис.
Рига, Лиесма, 1986 г. 104 с. (Серия: 1000 строк).



Эпиграф к сборнику "Тихие песни" Перевод: Любомир Георгиев Занев, болгарский язык.

Опубликовано 23.02.2006 на сайте журнала "Буквите". Оригинальный текст

От заветната фиала
върху думите пролята
е, уви, не красотата:
а скръбта по идеала.



"Смычок и струны".
Читают одновременно на двух языках Алёна Дубинская и Барбара Цурыло (автор перевода на польский язык).



Innokenti Annenski. Melancolia por lo fugaz: Antologia / prologo, traduccion: Natalia Litvinova. Madrid, Vaso Roto Ediciones, 2016. http://www.vasoroto.com/?lg=es&id=4&cid=1&lid=198

Это первая антология поэзии И. Ф. Анненского на испанском языке. Заглавие дано по стихотворению 'Тоска мимолётности' ('Трилистник сумеречный').

Антология собрала благожелательные и серьезные рецензии с интересом к творчеству незнакомого испаноязычной публике русского поэта:

Francisca Pageo. Innokenti Ánnenski. Pienso que tu corazón es recuerdo // La Revista Détour. Cine, literatura y arte; 29.06. 2016.
Eduardo Zambrano
. El llamado de Innokenti Ánnenski // La revista Levadura (México). 21.08.2016.
Diego Giménez. 'Melancolía por lo fugaz'. Reseña del libro de Innokenti Ánnenski // Revista de Letras. 12.09.2016.

Сообщение об этом опубликовано М. Ф. Надъярных (ИМЛИ РАН) в FB-группе "Анненская хроника" (октябрь 2016 г.). Она написала:

"Об авторе вводной статьи и переводчице всех текстов, вошедших в антологию: Наталья Литвинова / Natalia Litvinova (р. 1986, Гродно, Белоруссия). С 1996 г. Н. Литвинова живет в Аргентине; она издала несколько книг собственной испаноязычной поэзии, известна своими переводами на испанский язык поэзии С. Есенина, О. Мандельштама, А. Ахматовой. <...>
С переводами Анненского, созданными Натальей Литвиновой для Антологии, я пока знакомилась по цитатам из рецензий. Все они принадлежат к традиции перевода русской поэзии нерифмованным (белым / свободным) стихом. Пока могу сказать только одно: дух Анненского в этих переводах жив."

Melancolia por lo fugaz

El dia se va sin dejar rastro.
Amarillea y mira hacia el balcon
el disco nebuloso de la media luna.
Y en la desesperanza de las ventanas abiertas,
las paredes blancas, tristes e inexpresivas.
Ahora la noche vendra,
las nubes tan negras:
Siento pena por el ultimo instante de la tarde:
alli esta el pasado, el deseo y la melancolia,
lo que viene, la tristeza y el olvido.
Aqui la tarde es como un sueno: fugaz y cohibida,
pero para un corazon sin melodias, ni lagrimas, ni perfumes,
donde se han roto y fundido tantas nubes
parece mas cercano el crepusculo que un suave atardecer.



Вахушти Котетишвили (1935--2008) -- известный грузинский писатель, фольклорист, литературовед, критик, переводчик персидской, немецкой и русской поэзии на грузинский язык, доктор филологических наук, президент грузинского отдела Фольклорной ассоциации ЮНЕСКО.

"Сперва я перевел Иннокентия Анненского..." Источник


В. Котетишвили составил книгу своих переводов "Серебряный век + Бродский" (на груз. и русск. языках. Тбилиси, издательство "Арили", 2006), в которую включены переводы стихов Анненского.

Сообщил Давид Кокашвили, участник FB-группы "Анненская хроника".

"Издательство 'Тобалиси' выпустило второе, дополненное издание книги 'Русская поэзия. Переводы', объединившей семьдесят русских поэтов, начиная с пушкинской эпохи. книга посвящена светлой памяти Вахушти Котетишвили и Нико Гомелаури. Переводы выполнены пятью переводчиками, из которых наиболее широко представлен Котэ Кубанеишвили, он же составитель.
Виднейшей поэтессы серебряного века Анны Ахматовой учитель, тончайший лирик Иннокентий Анненский представлен стихотворением 'Среди миров' в переводе Вахушти Котетишвили. он отличается определенным мастерством, но заключительные строки двухстрофного стихотворения выглядят искусственно и не лучшим образом."

Эмзар Квитаишвили. Грузинские версии русской поэзии / Перевела Камилла-Мариам Коринтэли // Русский клуб. 2012, ? 2 (76). Февраль. С. 36 (Грузия). Источник


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