Translation of Poem by ANNA AKHMATOVA, "Я научилась просто, мудро жить" "Now I've Learned Simply and Wisely to Live"

                                             Nathan Altman Portrait of Akhmatova, 1915
                                    In the Collection of the Russian Museum, St. Petersburg

Anna Akhmatova

(1889-1966)

Я научилась просто, мудро жить,

Смотреть на небо и молиться Богу,

И долго перед вечером бродить,

Чтоб утомить ненужную тревогу.

Когда шуршат в овраге лопухи

И никнет гроздь рябины желто-красной,

Слагаю я веселые стихи

О жизни тленной, тленной и прекрасной.

Я возвращаюсь. Лижет мне ладонь

Пушистый кот, мурлыкает умильней,

И яркий загорается огонь

На башенке озерной лесопильни.

Лишь изредка прорезывает тишь

Крик аиста, слетевшего на крышу.

И если в дверь мою ты постучишь,

Мне кажется, я даже не услышу.

1912

Literal Translation

I’ve learned to live simply, wisely,

To look at the sky and pray to God,

And just before evening to wander about for a long time,

In order to tire out my needless anxiety.

When burdocks rustle in the ravine

And a cluster of yellow-red rowan berries droops down,

I compose merry verses

About transient life, transient and lovely.

I return [from my walk], and my fluffy cat

Licks my palm and purrs very nicely,

And a light burns brightly

On the tower of the lakefront sawmill.

Only infrequently is the silence broken

By the cry of a stork flying down on the roof.

And if you knock on my door,

It seems I won’t even hear you.

                                          Rowanberry Cluster, Late August, 2004, Helsinki

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Literary Translation/Adaptation by U.R. Bowie

Now I’ve learned simply and wisely to live,

To look at the sky and to pray unto God,

To wear down the worries and old hurts forgive,

In a wander each evening on a long restless plod.

Where burdocks are rustling in woodsy ravines,

And yellow-red berries on rowans droop down,

I compose merry verses in light blues and greens

About life’s evanescent but lovely playground.

Licking my palm when I’m back from the walk,

My fluffy-puff cat lets out legions of purrs,

While a light on the tower near the sawmill lake dock

Brightly burns and then fades into faraway blurs.

The silence is broken just once and not more

By a stork who alights on the roof with a cry,

And even if you were to knock at my door,

I doubt that I’d notice you had ever come by.

Masha Matvejchuk declaims the poem in Russian 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F24r6Pty5pA