Translation of Poem by Anna Akhmatova, Анна Ахматова, "Помолись о нищей, о потерянной," PRAY FOR THE MENDICANT SOUL

 

Анна Ахматова
(1889-1966)

Помолись о нищей, о потерянной,
О моей живой душе.
Ты, в своих путях всегда уверенный,
Свет узревший в шалаше.

И тебе печально-благодарная
Я за это расскажу потом,
Как меня томила ночь угарная,
Как дышало утро льдом.

В этой жизни я немного видела,
Только пела и ждала.
Знаю, брата я не ненавидела
И сестру не предала.

Отчего же Бог меня наказывал
Каждый день и каждый час?
Или это Ангел мне указывал
Свет, невидимый для нас?

May, 1912
Florence

d

Literal Translation by Judith Hemschemeyer
(amended in brackets by URB)
 
[I ask you to, omit] pray for my poor, my perplexed [lost],
For my living soul,
You, always certain of your path,
Having seen light shining from the hut.
 
And then, sadly grateful,
I will relate to you
How the night of ecstasy exhausted me, [nothing about ecstasy in the original]
How the morning breathed ice.
 
I saw little of this life,
I only sang and waited.
I know I didn’t hate my brother
And I didn’t betray my sister.
 
Why then did God punish me
Every day and every hour?
Or was this an angel showing me
A world [a light] that none of us can see?

d

                                              Literary Translation/Adaptation by U.R. Bowie

Pray for the mendicant soul that is lost,
For my soul still alive in the bustle,
You, who walk paths that are never star-crossed,
Who discern specks of light in a hovel.
 
And feeling a smidgen of grim gratefulness,
I’ll tell you a tale not so nice,
How the fumes in my night breathed out balefulness,
How the morning air wafted sheer ice.
 
I’ve not seen a lot of this life,
I’ve sung, patience shown, weaved brocade,
But I’ve not hated brothers, sown strife,
And my sisters I’ve never betrayed.
 
Why does God punish me, chastise,
Every day, every hour of my days?
Or is that how his Angel shows slantwise
Those unseen specks of light in the haze?