Translation of Poem by IVAN BUNIN, "Лес шумит невнятным, ровным шумом..."An even, hazy hum runs through the glade,"

       150 ЛЕТ СО ДНЯ РОЖДЕНИЯ ИВАНА АЛЕКСЕЕВИЧА БУНИНА: 1870-2020

Ivan Bunin

(1870-1953)

Лес шумит невнятным, ровным шумом...
Лепет листьев клонит в сон и лень...
Петухи в далекой караулке
Распевают про весенний день.
Лес шумит невнятным, тихим шумом...
Хорошо и беззаботно мне
На траве, среди берез зеленых,
В тихой и безвестной стороне!
1900

Literal Translation

The woods sound with an indistinct, even hum . . .

The rustle of leaves inclines one to drowse and be lazy . . .

Roosters in some far-distant sentry post

Sing out loudly about the spring day.

The woods sound with an indistinct, quiet hum . . .

I feel good and free of cares

On the grass amidst the green birches,

In this quiet and unknown land!

d

Literary Translation/Adaptation by U.R. Bowie

An even, hazy hum runs through the glade,

The rustling leaves to laze and drowse incline . . .

The roosters faraway in sun-specked shade,

Their vernal tidings sing, in crows benign.

A quiet, hazy hum runs through the glade . . .

To succor me and send my soul repose,

I lie midst birch grove green, my worries fade,

In this enchanted realm where stillness flows.

d

Variant of This Poem, Not Published in Bunin’s Collected Works in Nine Volumes, but Published in a Two-Volume Set of Collected Poetry in 2014 (First Two Stanzas Are Identical)

Лес шумит невнятным, ровным шумом…
Лепет листьев клонит в сон и лень…
Петухи в далёкой караулке
Распевают про весенний день.

Лес шумит невнятным, тихим шумом…
Хорошо и беззаботно мне
На траве, среди берёз зелёных,
В тихой и безвестной стороне!

Так привык я к горю и заботам,
Что мне странен этот ясный день,
Точно должен упрекнуть себя я
И за эту радость, и за лень.

Но укор в улыбке замирает…
Лес шумит, дрожит узор теней…
Убегает светлый лепет листьев,
Тихий лепет светлых детских дней!

1900

---

Literal Translation

The woods sound with an indistinct, even hum . . .

The rustle of leaves inclines one to drowse and be lazy . . .

Roosters in some far-distant sentry post

Sing out loudly about the spring day.

The woods sound with an indistinct, quiet hum . . .

I feel good and free of cares

On the grass amidst the green birches,

In this quiet and unknown land!

I have grown so used to grief and to troubles

That this clear day is strange to me,

As if I have to rebuke myself

For both this joy and for this laziness.

But the censure in my smile dies away . . .

The woods sound, the tracery of shade quavers . . .

The bright rustle of leaves runs away,

That quiet rustle of bright days of childhood!

d

Literary Translation/Adaptation by U.R. Bowie

An even, hazy hum runs through the glade,

The rustling leaves to laze and drowse incline . . .

The roosters faraway in sun-specked shade,

Their vernal tidings sing, in crows benign.

A quiet, hazy hum runs through the glade . . .

To succor me and send my soul repose,

I lie midst birch grove green, my worries fade,

In this enchanted realm where stillness flows.

So used I’ve come to live with grief and dole

That this clear lustrous day seems strange to me,

As if I needs must chide my self, my soul

For feeling joyful, light at heart and free.

But censure and rebuke on my smile fades . . .

The woods hum on, the lacy shadows laze,

The leaves’ bright hum dissolves, in flight abrades

The quiet rustle of bright childhood days.

                                                             Bunin Statue in Yefremov