A.S. PUSHKIN, "Дар напрасный, дар случайный" TRANSLATION INTO ENGLISH

School Facade Made to Look Like Bookshelf, Tyumen, Russia

Aleksandr Pushkin

(1799-1837)

Дар напрасный, дар случайный,
Жизнь, зачем ты мне дана?
Иль зачем судьбою тайной
Ты на казнь осуждена?

Кто меня враждебной властью
Из ничтожества воззвал,
Душу мне наполнил страстью,
Ум сомненьем взволновал?...

Цели нет передо мною:
Сердце пусто, празден ум,
И томит меня тоскою
Однозвучный жизни шум.

26 мая 1828

Literal Translation

Useless gift, gift presented by chance,

Life, why were you given to me?

Or why by some mysterious fate

Were you condemned to death?

Who by some inimical force

Summoned me out of nothingness,

Filled my soul up with passion,

Agitated my mind with doubt?

There is no goal before me;

My heart is empty, my mind idle,

And the monotonous hum of life

Torments me with depression.

d

Literary Translation by Robin Kallsen

Futile gift, so unexpected --

Life, why were you brought to me?

Rather, why are you subjected

To a brutal penalty?

What unfriendly power brought me

Into being from nothingness,

Filled my soul with passion, wrought me

Doubts and qualms and faithlessness?

No ambitions stand before me:

Empty are my heart and mind;

And I cannot flee the torment

Of this world’s drudging grind.

                                     Literary Translation by Natasha Gotskaya

Life, the gift so idle and random,

Why 're you given to me at all?

Or, else, why must you abandon

Me, condemned to deadly call?

What cruel force has called me, raising

From nonentity to light,

Filled my soul with passion blazing,

Stirred with doubt my eager mind?..

Void's my brain, and drained's my spirit.

No goals for which I strive.

I am sick to death of hearing

The monotonous buzz of life.

d

Literary Translation/Imitation by U.R. Bowie

Based on pure chance, a useless gift,

A life—why was it given to me?

And why does furtive fate so swift

All lives to end in death decree?

What power hostile in intent

Called me from Lethe’s mephitism, 

Made my soul's essence passion-bent, 

But roiled my mind with skepticism?

No goal I see in front of me,

My mind is idle, my heart numb,

And life’s nonstop monotony  

Drones on with wretched, endless thrum.    

                                           Portrait of Pushkin by Petrov-Vodkin

Mikhail Kozakov declaims "Дар напрасный"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?reload=9&v=Au65b5sGMY4