Translation of Poem by Vladimir Nabokov, Владимир Набоков, "Снег," SNOW

 

Снег

Владимир Набоков
(1899-1977)
 
О, этот звук! По снегу —
скрип,скрип, скрип —
в валенках кто-то идет.
 
Толстый крученый лед
остриями вниз с крыши повис.
Снег скрипуч и блестящ.
(О, этот звук!)
 
Салазки сзади не тащатся —
сами бегут, в пятки бьют.
 
Сяду и съеду
по крутому, по ровному:
валенки врозь,
держусь за веревочку.
 
Отходя ко сну,
всякий раз думаю:
может быть, удосужится
меня посетить
тепло одетое, неуклюжее
детство мое.
 
1930
Берлин
 
 
d
 
 
                                              Literary Translation/Adaptation by U.R. Bowie
 
 
                          Snow
 
Oh, that sound! Through the snow—
crunch, crunch, crunch—
someone is walking,
someone who’s wearing felt boots.

Thick swirls of ice,
sharp tips downward,
hang from the eaves of the roof.
The snow is squeaky,
scintillating.
(Oh, that sound!)

Behind you the sled
cares not to be pulled;
runs along on its ownsome,
banging against your heels.

I get on and take off,
down the steepness,
along the flatlands,
felt boots akimbo,
holding onto the cord.
                
Off to dreamland drifting,
the selfsame thought in my mind:
could be tonight’s the night
she’ll get around  
to visiting me again,
that warmly dressed
and awkward clomping
childhood
of mine.

 

Translation of Poem by VLADIMIR NABOKOV, "The Swallow (The Swift)" "Ласточка"

 

Владимир Набоков

(1899-1977)

Ласточка

Однажды мы под вечер оба
стояли на старом мосту.
Скажи мне, спросил я, до гроба
запомнишь вон ласточку ту?
И ты отвечала: еще бы!

И как мы заплакали оба,
как вскрикнула жизнь на лету…
До завтра, навеки, до гроба —
однажды, на старом мосту…

 

Literal Translation

 

The Swallow

 

Once toward evening the two of us

Were standing on an old bridge.

Tell me, I asked, to the grave

Will you remember that swallow there?

And you answered: Of course!

 

And how the two of us wept,

How life on the fly cried out . . .

Until tomorrow, for ages, to the grave—

Once on an old bridge . . .

 

d

 

Literary Translation/Adaptation by U.R. Bowie

 

The Swallow

 

One day close to gloaming’s first sigh, 

You and I on a bridge near the shore.

See that swallow, I said, that swooped by;  

In your mind till we die will she soar?

And you answered, She will; I swear!

 

With what fervor the both of us wept,

How the life-bird cried out on the fly!

Till we die and for eons windswept, 

On an old bridge at gloaming’s first sigh. 

d

 

Translation by Vladimir Nabokov

(with new bird in title role)

The Swift

One night between sunset and river

On an old bridge we stood, you and I.

Will you ever forget it, I queried,

That particular swift that went by?

And you answered, so earnestly: Never!

 

And what sobs made us suddenly shiver,

What a cry life emitted in flight!

Till we die, till tomorrow, for ever,

You and I on the old bridge one night.

 

 Nabokov reads the poem in Russian and English:

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tdn5SxFAMEg&ab_channel=JiffySpook