Translation into Modern English of Boris Pasternak's Russian Translation of Shakespeare Sonnet No. 73

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Boris Pasternak

(1890-1960)

 

Translation into Modern Russian of Shakespeare’s Sonnet No. 73

То время года видишь ты во мне,

Когда из листьев редко где какой, 

Дрожа, желтеет в веток голизне, 

А птичий свист везде сменил покой. 

Во мне ты видишь бледный край небес, 

Где от заката памятка одна, 

И, постепенно взявши перевес, 

Их опечатывает темнота. 

Во мне ты видишь то сгоранье пня, 

Когда зола, что пламенем была, 

Становится могилою огня, 

А то, что грело, изошло дотла. 

И, это видя, помни: нет цены 

Свиданьям, дни которых сочтены.

 

d

 

Literal Translation

 

You see in me that time of year (season)

When of the leaves only one or two,

Tremble yellow amidst the nakedness of branches,

And [silent] calm has replaced the sound of birdsong.

 

In me you see the pallid edge of the skies,

Where of the sunset [there remains] little but a memory [memorandum],

And, gradually achieving ascendancy,

Darkness seals them [the skies] up.

 

In me you see the burning away of a tree stump,

When cinders that were flame

Become the grave of the fire,

And that which warmed one has dissipated into ashes.

 

And seeing [all of] this, remember: priceless

Are the meetings [time spent together] of those whose days are numbered.

 

d

 

Literary Translation/Adaptation (into Modern English) by U.R. Bowie

 

You look at me and see that time of year

When withered leaves await their sad decease,

When yellowed, trembling, hang they on in fear,

And sounds of birdsong yield to silent peace.

 

You look at me and see the sky’s pale rim,

Where sunset’s light diminished fades away,

And gradually, as dimmer goes more dim,

Dark night seals up the doors of what was day.

 

In me you see a burning stump expire,

You watch the embers that just now were flame,

As they become the grave of what was fire,

And ashes victory over warmth proclaim.

 

And seeing this, remember, precious be

The time that’s all too short for you and me.   

 

                                                         Shakespeare Sonnet No. 73

That time of year thou mayst in me behold

When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang

Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,

Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.

In me thou see'st the twilight of such day

As after sunset fadeth in the west,

Which by and by black night doth take away,

Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.

In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire

That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,

As the death-bed whereon it must expire,

Consum'd with that which it was nourish'd by.

This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong,

To love that well which thou must leave ere long.

 

d

 

Modern English Paraphrase

(from website No Sweat Shakespeare)

 You may see that time of year in me when few, or no, yellow leaves hang on those branches that shiver in the cold bare ruins of the choir stalls where sweet birds sang so recently. You see, in me, the twilight of a day, after the sun has set in the west, extinguished by the black night that imitates Death, which closes everything in rest. You see in me the glowing embers that are all that is left of the fire of my youth – the deathbed on which youth must inevitably die, consumed by the life that once fed it. This is something you can see, and it gives your love the strength deeply to love that which you have to lose soon.