Monday, April 13, 2026

Translation of Poem by Bella Akhmadulina, Белла Ахмадулина, "Новая домна на К М К," THE NEW BLAST FURNACE

 


Белла Ахмадулина
(1937-2010)

                                                               Новая домна на К М К
Где вздымается новая домна,
так работа идет наверху,
словно этому парню удобно
хохотать и висеть на ветру.
 
Он небрежно идет по карнизу,
но, быть может, заметно едва
мимолетною завистью к низу
замутится его голова.
 
Он вздыхает привольно и сладко,
и ступени гудят невпопад,
и огнем осыпается сварка —
августовский ее звездопад.
 
В нем, конечно, отвага без меры,
и задор, и мгновенный расчет,
что девчонка высокие метры
между ним и землею сочтет,
 
У девчонок иные привычки.
Поглядит, не поняв ничего.
Что-то нравится ей, что превыше
высоты, подымавшей его.
 
Но, бывавшая в цирке нечасто,
напряженно подавшись вперед,
побледнеет она за гимнаста,
если тот по канату пройдет.
 
И, глубокой обиды не выдав,
на девчонок, забывших о нем,
он опять с независимым видом
смотрит сверху и брызжет огнем.
 
[from the collection Struna (Violin String), 1962]
 
d
 
                                                        Literary Translation/Adaptation by U.R. Bowie
 
                                                              The New Blast Furnace at the KMC
 
Where a blast furnace new is ascending,
they labor up high in the sky,
and it all seems routine (condescending?),
for one laughing and wind-surfing guy.
 
Nonchalantly he strolls down a girder in tow,
but, could be, though it’s barely apparent,
a transient yen for safe earth down below
will sober what looks like behavior aberrant.
 
His breath’s free and easy and artless,
while his footsteps sound ripe for a fall,
and the welding torch spatters out sparklets,
like a cascade of August star-fall.
 
He has, of course, daring unbounded,
and fervor, and inner conviction that some
of the girls looking up will be awed and astounded
by the heights that he navigates, feigning humdrum. 
 
But the girls view quite differently this death defyer.
She’ll gaze up befuddled, face blank but inspired. 
Something pleases her that’s so much higher
than the heights to which he has aspired.
 
Having been to the circus but rarely,
all tensed up as she gazes on high,
she goes pale in her fright for the rambler 
as his tightrope he ambles, tough guy. 
 
Careful to hide all his feelings offended
at the girls who’ve lost interest in him,
he looks down from above with insouciance splendid,
while the sparks spatter on with sheer vim. 

 

d

 

Translator’s Note

 

If you google the KMK of the Russian title today you come up with Кузбасский медицинский колледж, which translates as the Kuzbass Medical College, an important medical institution in Kemerovo, which is a major industrial city of Siberia. But the initials as used in our poem of 1962 apparently refer to the Kemerovo Metallurgical Combine. Did Akhmadulina visit the city of Kemerovo in the late fifties or early sixties? I’m not sure, but in Soviet times it was a common practice to send groups of poets and writers on visits to industrial sites, where they could commune with Soviet workers. In what seems now like a far-distant age, the time of the USSR, they were expected to write works of art glorifying the workers or peasants.

 The title of the present poem suggests that this is to be just such a work, the kind demanded of poets by the socialist state, but, as we soon learn in reading the poem, the action has little to do with the actual blast furnace of the title. The poet is, ostensibly, furnishing the government authorities with what they want, while, simultaneously, writing a more subtle and lyrical piece of her own.

 The subject matter of the poem is somewhat muddled. The central character featured is, obviously, the young construction worker who walks steel beams high in the sky, while showing off for the girls watching from below. As for those girls, we get a variety of takes on them. While Stanza 4 suggests that the worker expects the girls below to be impressed by his performance, Stanza 5 begins with a line that reads, literally, “But the girls have different habits” (or different ways of behaving and thinking than the daredevil worker).

 Switching in this Stanza 5 from “girls” in the first line to one particular girl in the rest of the stanza, the poet informs us that this one will “look up [at him] understanding nothing”—as if musing over what’s going on? The last two lines of the stanza are, literally: “Something pleases her that is far higher (loftier)/Than the height that has raised him up.” We wonder what this thing is that is so important to at least one of the girls below.

 Stanza 6 digresses from the present action to present a girl at the circus, looking on anxiously at the antics of a tightrope walker. There is an analogy made here between girls in two places looking up anxiously; a parallel is drawn between a circus performer and a worker “performing” on a high beam. Stanza 7 concludes the poem by describing the construction worker again. Now he is somewhat peeved (but hiding his displeasure behind “an independent air”) because the girls down below have “forgotten about him.” This strikes the reader as somehow odd. After all of the anxious looking up, no more anxiousness, no more awe at or appreciation of the performance. So what are the girls doing now? Could it be that the image of their awestricken observation of the construction worker is something that he himself has conjured up in his own imagination?

 Perhaps the key to the whole thing lies in Stanza 5, where at least one girl with a different take on things is introduced. I would suggest that this girl may be emblematic of the poet herself, she who finds much more elevated things to entrance her than someone showing off on a steel beam or walking a tightrope at the circus. The central lyric image of the poem appears both in Stanza 3 and in the final stanza. It is that of the welder’s torch as it “spatters out sparklets” that resemble a shower of falling stars in August. This may be the lofty, elevated something that the girl appreciates, an image of God’s perpetual beauty in the universe.

 I first came across this poem in The Penguin Book of Russian Verse, a lovely paperback edited by Dimitri Obolensky and published in 1962. Almost as a kind of afterthought, Obolensky includes this piece of verse, and only this one, as representative of Akhmadulina’s work; the poem appears on the last page of his book. When choosing a poem from this young poet, from her earliest collection—also published in 1962—Obolensky could not have imagined what a great poet was in the offing, what Bella Akhmadulina was to become in the years that followed.

 

 


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