Translation of Poem by Fyodor Tyutchev, "Хоть я и свил гнездо в долине," "I’ve built my nest in earthbound vale"

                                                               Levitan, Spring in the Alps

Fyodor Tyutchev

(1803-1875)

 

Хоть я и свил гнездо в долине,
Но чувствую порой и я,
Как животворно на вершине
Бежит воздушная струя, —
Как рвется из густого слоя,
Как жаждет горних наша грудь,
Как все удушливо-земное
Она хотела б оттолкнуть…

 

На недоступные громады
Смотрю по целым я часам, —
Какие росы и прохлады
Оттуда с шумом льются к нам,
Вдруг просветлеют огнецветно
Их непорочные снега —
По ним проходит незаметно
Небесных Ангелов нога.

 

1860 (?)

 

d

 

Literal Translation

Although I have built my nest in the valley,

I still sometimes feel as if

Up in the heights, with life-giving force,

A stream of air were flowing.

How our breast strives to burst out of the thick stratum,

How it thirsts for the alpine reaches,

How it would like to push away

All that is suffocating in its earthiness . . .

 

For hours on end I gaze

At the inaccessible mass of mountains.

What dews and cool freshets

Come rumbling down to us from there,

Suddenly their chaste snows

Will glisten as if in fiery colors;

Imperceptibly crossing them

Are the feet of heavenly Angels.

 

d

Literary Translation/Adaptation by U.R. Bowie

 

I’ve built my nest in earthbound vale,

But sometimes, still, it seems to be

That some benign sweet-tempered gale

Were blowing down from heights on me.

 

How our hearts thirst for alpine reaches,

How viscous muck we yearn to flee,

To pluck away the clinging leeches

Of carnal earth’s lubricity. 

 

For hours on end I contemplate

The massive mountains’ hideaway,

The dews that on high congregate,

The freshets that drift down our way,

 

Then all at once their snows so chaste

Go bright with opalescent fire;

That’s when God’s angels in their haste

Tip-toe across that white quagmire.