Translation of Poem by Vladislav Khodasevich, Владислав Ходасевич, "Акробат," "Walking a Tightrope"

                                                                   Image by Ralf Gervink

Vladislav Khodasevich

(1886-1939)

Владислав Ходасевич
Акробат

(Надпись к силуэту)

От крыши до крыши протянут канат.
Легко и спокойно идет акробат.

В руках его — палка, он весь — как весы,
А зрители снизу задрали носы.

Толкаются, шепчут: «Сейчас упадет!» —
И каждый чего-то взволнованно ждет.

Направо — старушка глядит из окна,
Налево — гуляка с бокалом вина.

Но небо прозрачно, и прочен канат.
Легко и спокойно идет акробат.

А если, сорвавшись, фигляр упадет
И, охнув, закрестится лживый народ, —

Поэт, проходи с безучастным лицом:
Ты сам не таким ли живешь ремеслом?

1913, 1921

d

 

Literal Translation

The Acrobat

(Inscription on a Silhouette)

From roof to roof a cable has been stretched.

Lightly and calmly steps the acrobat.

 

In his hands holds a pole, he looks for all the world like a scales,

While way down below spectators crane their necks.

 

They jostle each other, whisper, “He’s about to fall!”

And each of them waits for something in agitation.

 

To the right there’s an old woman looking out a window,

And to the left there’s a gadabout with a glass of wine.

 

But the sky is transparent and the cable is tight.

Lightly and calmly steps the acrobat.

 

But what if the street performer breaks off and falls

And the hypocrite people let out a gasp and cross themselves?

 

Poet, walk past with an unconcerned [apathetic] look on your face:

For do not you yourself live by the same trade?

 

d

 

Literary Translation/Adaptation by U.R. Bowie

 

Walking a Tightrope

(Inscription on a Silhouette)

 From one roof to the next there’s a cable stretched taut.

The tight-roper strides, not the least bit distraught.

 

In his hands there’s a pole, it keeps balance in check,

Down below the rank populace cranes its pleb neck.

 

They push and they jostle, they whisper, “He’ll fall!”

Concerned they are, frantic, and having a ball.

 

On the right from her window an old woman peers,

On the left stands a swillbelly holding two beers.

 

Crystalline is the sky, and the cable is taut.

And the tight-roper strides, not the least bit distraught.

 

But what if he comes a bad cropper and falls,

And the hoi polloi crosses itself and oohs-aahws?

 

Feign indifference, O poet, pass blithely on by:

For poets, as well, walk on air in the sky.