Monday, July 21, 2025

Translations: The Bestest of the Best, SEVENTEEN, Igor Chinnov, Игорь Чиннов, OUR HEARTS WILL COWER

 


Игорь Чиннов

 

Igor Chinnov
(1909-1996)

 

Сердце сожмётся – испуганный ёжик –
В жарких ладонях невидимых Божьих.

Ниточка жизни – лесной паутинкой,
Летней росинкой, слезинкой, потинкой.

Листья в прожилках, как тёмные руки.
Время грибное, начало разлуки.

Лично известный и лесу, и Богу,
Листик летит воробьём на дорогу.

Вот и припал, как порой говорится,
К лону родному, к родимой землице.

Крыша, гнездо. И стоит, будто аист,
Время твоё, улететь собираясь.

Скоро в ладонях невидимых Божьих
Сердце сожмётся – испуганный ёжик.

 

From the collection Пасторали (Pastorals: Sixth Book of Verses), Paris: Rifma Publishers, 1976, p. 10

 

 

                                  Literal Translation
 
A [the] heart will cower—a frightened little hedgehog
In the hot invisible palms of God.
 
A thin thread of life—in a spider web in the woods,
In a summer dewdrop, a teardrop, a sweat drop.
 
The leaves have veins, like dark hands,
It’s mushroom time, the beginning of separation.
 
Personally known, both to the woods, and to God,
A tiny leaf flies like a sparrow onto the road.
 
And now he has landed, as it’s sometimes said,
On the native bosom (lap), on a dear spot of earth.
 
A roof, a nest, and standing, like a stork,
Is your time, getting ready to fly off.
 
Soon in the invisible palms of God
A [the] heart will cower—a frightened little hedgehog.
 
 
d
 
                                      Literary Translations/Adaptations by U.R. Bowie
 
                                           1
 
Our hearts will cower—frightened hedgehogs—
In the hot sweaty palms of the otiose gods.  
 
Thin thread of life, in a drenched cobweb’s wet,
In a dewdrop of summer, or a teardrop, or sweat.
 
At the mushroomy time when departures are planned,
The leaves bulge with veins, like a dark human hand.
 
A personal friend of the woods, and of God,  
A sparrow-like leaf flies out over the sod,  
 
Then softly drifts down in a sweep of pure mirth  
To the lap of the land, to his dear native earth.
 
A rooftop, a nest, and Our Time stands aloft,
Like a stork with a plan before long to fly off.
 
All too soon in the palms of the otiose gods
Our hearts will cower—frightened hedgehogs.
 

                                       2

Your heart will cower—frightened hedgehog—
In the hot sweaty palms of an otiose God.
 
Thin thread of life, in a drenched cobweb’s wet,
In a dewdrop of summer, or a teardrop or sweat.
 
At the mushroomy time when departures are planned,
The leaves bulge with veins, like a dark human hand.
 
A personal friend of the woods, and of God,
A sparrow-like leaf flies out over the sod,
 
Then softly drifts down in a sweep of pure mirth  
To the lap of the land, to his dear native earth.
 
A rooftop, a nest, and Your Time stands aloft,
Like a stork with a plan before long to fly off.
 
All too soon in the palms of an otiose God
Your heart will cower—frightened hedgehog.
 

 

 


 

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