20th May 2003, 02:43
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Hello everybody! I'm a french fan of Marina Tsvetaeva, but unfortunately I can read her only in french or english translations. One of my favourite poems by M.T is the one called "Homesickness" in english ("Mal du Pays" in french). My problem is that there are some huge semantical differences between the translations, especially concerning the 7th and the 8th strophses. Could any of you, russian poetry-lovers, help me with this? I need a simple LITTERAl english or french translation for this poem (or at least for these two strophes). I know this message might seem peculiar, but I'm sure you know - just like I do - how poetry matters my become urgent... Thank you in advance, Licorne licornes22@yahoo.fr 
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20th May 2003, 07:39
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When was it written? I found one in Russian whose title more or less matches the English "Homesickness", dated May 3, 1934. Is this the one? It starts something like this: Yearning for homeland, The type of craving exposed a long time ago! I do not care at all Where to be alone ... D.P.
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20th May 2003, 12:46
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Thank you so much for your efforts! This IS my poem (written by Tsvetaeva in 1934 in France). Dare I ask you to help me with the translation of the rest of the poem (especially the two so problematic strophes - the 7th and the 8th starting "A block of wood abandoned on the alley" etc)? And could you tell me what's the poem's title in russian (if there is one - in some of the translations I have the poem has no title). Yours, Licorne
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21st May 2003, 04:41
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Okay, my English is far from perfect, but I'll try. Here it goes (things in square brackets are my clarifications that don't exist in the original text; the numbers in brackets refer to my comments at the end): Craving for homeland [1]! The long ago Exposed ordeal! I absolutely do not care Where absolutely lonesome I am to be, what stones I am to tread on While lagging home carrying a market bag, Towards a house that does not know it is mine Like a hospital or a barracks. It’s all the same -- among what Faces I am to bristle like a captive Lion, from what society I am to be displaced – without fail – Into myself, in a dictatorship [2] of feelings Like a Kamchatka [3] bear with no ice Where not to get along (nor am I trying to) Or where to grovel – it’s all the same to me. Nor shall I be seduced by native tongue, Its milky call. It makes no difference to me in what [language] I am to be misunderstood by a stranger. [4] ( [The stranger, who] reads, and swallows tonns of newspapers, and preys on gossip [5]) He is of the 20th century, And I am from before time [6] [While I am] Dumbfounded like a log That remains of an alley Everything seems equally insignificant [7], But perhaps most valuable Is the past that is dearer to me than anything else. All patterns, all markings All dates have been removed from me [I am] A sole that has been born – somewhere. Thus my land couldn’t preserve me Just like a sharpest sleuth Could not find a birthmark On a sole – all of it. Every house seems strange, every temple seems empty And all seems equally meaningless [7] Except [when I see] a shrub along the road Especially a rowan-tree [8] ... Footnotes: [1] The Russian word ("rodina") doesn't have an exact equivalent in English. It's a noun derived from a word meaning "related by blood" or "very closely tied", i.e., "the revered native land". They frequently translate it as "Motherland" in English. [2] "Dictatorship", literally "the exclusive rule of". [3] "Kamchatka" is a place at the Russian Far East. [4] "... to be misunderstood by a stranger", literally "passer-by". [5] "preys on gossip", literally "milks gossip" [6] "I am from before time", literally "I am from before all centuries" [7] "Everything seems equally insignificant", literally "all is equal". This one is somewhat vague and therefore hard to translate, but I think "equally insignificant, meaningless, worthless, unappealing, unengaging, disintereting" is what she means. [8] "Rowan-tree" is a type of plant that is very common in Russia; considered to be distinctively Russian (along with a birch-tree). As for the title, this poem is listed by it's first line in the book where I read it: "Craving for homeland! The long ago..." ("Òîñêà ïî ðîäèíå! Äàâíî..."). Hope this helps, davlet [Edited by davlet on 21st May 2003 at 10:37]
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21st May 2003, 11:24
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Sorry for interruption. Davlet you did a great job! This poem i found at http://www.lib.ru/POEZIQ/CWETAEWA/sbornik_engl.txt.
Despair for homeland! Long ago Exposed torment! To me It is completely all the same Where completely lonely to be, By which stones on the road home With the bazaar knapsack to drag Home, not knowing, that it's mine, Like hospital or a barrack. It's same to me, among which faces Like an imprisoned lion to bristle, And from among which people's midst To be forced out - without fail - Into oneself, into individual feelings. As polar bear without ice floe Where not to live - it's the same to me (And I don't dare) - where to go low. I won't be tempted by the milky Call of my own native tongue. It is the same to me on which To be not sensed by meeting ones. (To reader of newspaper tons, To gulper, milker of rumors.) He Is of the twentieth century, And I - without a century! Grown petrified just like a log Remaining only of an alley, They're all the same, it's all the same, And maybe most the same - to me - Dearer than everything that was. All marks from me, all signs that were, All dates - brushed off as if by hand: Soul, that had once been born - somewhere. Thus my land did not keep me there, That the detective most keen Along the soul, across it all! The birthmark has not sought or seen! Alien is home, temple - empty, And all's the same and one to me. But if along the road a bush Rises, especially - ashberry...
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23rd May 2003, 02:47
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Wow! I must say I'm amazed. Your translation, davlet, made everything so clear and - above all - so beatiful. I'm glad that so many people had the oppurtinity to read it and I'm sure it's inspired more than one. Tommorrow I'll add an excellent - though somewhat problematic, but who isn't? - French translation that I found, for the sake of mes chers compatriotes who don't speak english. I'll keep on asking questions, if I may, while reading Tsvetayeva - and maybe others as well... it's so good to know I have such a warm address for russian-poetry matters! Thank you as well, Nastia,for the site. I'm not quite sure about the poetic value of these translation - it's too much of a colloquial american and not inspired enough to my taste - but it's important to know. à bientôt! see you soon!
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