Translation of Poem by Nikolai Tikhonov, Николай Тихонов, "Мы разучились нищим подавать," "For greasing palms of beggars seems we’ve lost the knack"

                                                                  "Lemons," by Robert Papp

Nikolai Tikhonov

(1896-1979)

 

Николай Тихонов

Мы разучились нищим подавать,

Дышать над морем высотой соленой,

Встречать зарю и в лавках покупать

За медный мусор - золото лимонов.

 

Случайно к нам заходят корабли,

И рельсы груз проносят по привычке;

Пересчитай людей моей земли –

И сколько мертвых встанет в перекличке.

 

Но всем торжественно пренебрежем.

Нож сломанный в работе не годится,

Но этим черным, сломанным ножом

Разрезаны бессмертные страницы.

 

1921 г.

Строфы века. Антология русской поэзии.
Сост. Е.Евтушенко.
Минск, Москва: Полифакт, 1995.

 

d

Literal Translation

We’ve unlearned how to give [alms] to beggars,

To breathe the salt air high above the sea,

To greet sunrises and in shops to buy

For copper rubbish the gold of lemons.

 

Accidentally ships still drop in on us [to our ports],

And by force of habit the rails bring in freight;

Take a count of the people of my land—

And so many of the dead will show up in that roll call.

 

But we’ll gravely disregard all this.

A knife broken is of no use for work,

But with that black, broken knife

Immortal pages have been cut.

 

d

Literary Translation/Adaptation by U.R. Bowie

 For greasing palms of beggars seems we’ve lost the knack, 

Forgotten how to breathe salt air near seascapes sweep,

And how to watch the sunrise, how knapsack

To fill with lemons’ gold bought on the cheap.

 

By force of habit ships steam to our lands,

And freight cars still roll in on railway rail;

Ask of our landsmen for a show of hands,

Who’s live, who’s dead? the dead hands will prevail.

 

Nose in the air, we turn blind eye to all.

A knife that’s broken is no more of use,

But that defective, blackened blade withal

Are cut immortal pages, thoughts abstruse.