Get a feeling of Nikolay Gumilyov’s poetry

Nikolay Gumilyov was a prominent Russian poet. In April of 1910 he married Anna Akhmatova.

I’ll tell you more about Anna and Nikolay in another post.

Below is one of his poems.

TO A POET

Let verse of yours be flexible, but strong,
Strong as a poplar under valley’s cover,
Strong as the earth under a plough, long,
Strong as a girl, who never knew a lover.

Reliably preserve severity at length,
Your verse need not be fluttering or booming,
Although the Muse has very easy steps,
She’s not a dancer, but a goddess, ruling.

Frolicsome din of interrupted rhymes —
Temptation for decline, so free and so easy —
Just leave for use by jokers in a dance
On city streets for people who aren’t busy.

And going out on the sacred paths,
Bring to melodiousness your chosen damnation.
You know, she’s a mistress of the mass,
She craves embraces, as a dearth — donations.

Translated by Yevgeny Bonver

Anna Akhmatova (introduction)

I thought long and hard how to describe life of a famous woman on this blog so that you could understand this woman, her problems and her decisions, her achievements and her tragedies.

I also want to show how government of the country can take away your freedom, your loved ones and totally control your life if you allow it.

Finally, I want to show that outstanding women did not fight for equality with men. They worked hard and often achieved more than men.

There is no doubts in my mind that live of every person can be a basis for a historical novel with wide specter of events, emotions, problems, choices and their results. 

However, a blog should use short posts as many bloggers follow hundreds of posts daily.

I also believe that in a blog characters and events must be painted with few words.

Now I want to remind you that recently I published the post GET A FEELING OF ANNA AKHMATOVA’S POETRY. If you missed it or forgot it please click on the title of the post and read it.

I want to add here one detail..

Anna Akhmatova’s ancestor was Khan Akhmat. From Wikipedia: “He was killed one night in his tent by a Russian killer-for-hire. Karamzin (Russian historian – JF) tells us that this marked the end of the Mongol yoke on Russia. …It was well known that this Akhmat was a descendant of Genghiz Khan.”

This explains how Anna Gorenko became Anna Akhmatova.

Get a feeling of Anna Akhmatova’s poetry

 

portrait by Petrov-Vodkin

From Wikipedia: ” Anna Andreyevna Gorenko, better known by the pen name Anna Akhmatova, was a Russian modernist poet, one of the most acclaimed writers in the Russian canon.”

She was born in Odessa (Ukraine) in 1889. I was born in the same city in 1934.

Her poetry loved by every Russian speaking person.

Anna’s life was very interesting and tragic. I am going to write about it later.

Below is one of her poems. It translated by Richard McKane.

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I taught myself to live simply and wisely,
to look at the sky and pray to God,
and to wander long before evening
to tire my superfluous worries.

*

When the burdocks rustle in the ravine
and the yellow-red rowanberry cluster droops
I compose happy verses
about life’s decay, decay and beauty.

*

I come back. The fluffy cat
licks my palm, purrs so sweetly
and the fire flares bright
on the saw-mill turret by the lake.

*

Only the cry of a stork landing on the roof
occasionally breaks the silence.
If you knock on my door
I may not even hear.

************************************************************************************

“I will not be young again…”?

Below is one of my favorite poems by Sergei Yesenin. He wrote it when he was 25 years old.

I am 80 years old now and I feel that I am still young. My views changed drastically since I read this poem first time and now I doubt that “I will not be young again”.

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I do not regret, and I do not shed tears,

All, like haze off apple-trees, must pass.

Turning gold, I’m fading, it appears,

I will not be young again, alas.

*

Having got to know the touch of coolness

I will not feel, as before, so good.

And the land of birch trees, – oh my goodness!-

Cannot make me wander barefoot.

*

Vagrant’s spirit! You do not so often

Stir the fire of my lips these days.

Oh my freshness, that begins to soften!

Oh my lost emotions, vehement gaze!

*

Presently I do not feel a yearning,

Oh, my life! Have I been sleeping fast?

Well, it feels like early in the morning

On a rosy horse I’ve galloped past.

*

We are all to perish, hoping for some favour,

Golden leaves flow down turning grey.

May you be redeemed and blessed for ever,

You who came to bloom and pass away…

Sergei Yesenin

*

My painting #13

“You don’t love me…”

Below is a poem of Sergei Yesenin written on December 4, 1925.

I read it many times when I was in school and college. There were several popular songs with this lyrics.

Only years later I understood the depth of this poem, the depth of his sufferings.

Sergei Yesenin died on December 28, 1925.

*********************************************************************************************************

You don’t love me and don’t feel compassion.

Don’t you think that now I look my best?

Though you look aside you’re thrilled with passion

As you put your arms upon my chest.

*

You are young, so sensitive and zealous,

I am neither bad nor very good to you.

Tell me, did you pet a lot of gentle fellows?

You remember many arms and lips. You do.

*

They are gone and haven’t touched you any,

Gone like shadows, leaving you aflame.

You have sat upon the laps of many,

You are sitting now on mine, without shame.

*

Though your eyes are closed, and you are rather

Thinking of some one you really trust,

After all, I do not love you either,

I am lost in thought about my dear past.

*

Don’t you call this zeal predestination?

Hasty tie is thoughtless and no good, –

Like I set up this unplanned connection,

I will smile when leaving you for good.

*

You will go the pathway of your own

Just to have your days unwisely spent,

Don’t approach the ones not fully grown,

Don’t entice the ones that never burnt.

*

When you walk with someone down the alley

Chatting merrily about love and all

Maybe, I’ll be out, walking round shyly,

And again, by chance, I’ll meet you, poor soul.

*

Squaring shoulders, ravishing and winning,

Bending forward, with an air kiss,

You will utter quietly: Good evening!

And I will reply: Good evening, miss.

*

Nothing will disturb my heart and spirit,

Nothing will perturb me giving pain,-

He who’s been in love will not retrieve it,

He who’s burnt will not be lit again.

*

December 4th, 1925

Get a feeling of Sergei Yesenin’s poetry

Sergei Yesenin

I decided to write a short story about Sergei Yesenin, a great Russian poet. I love images and music of his poems from my childhood.

Once he met a girl. Her name was Isadora Duncan. Then his life drastically changed. I am going to write about it later.

In the meantime I want you to get a feeling of Sergei’s poetry

Below is one of his poem translated by Alec Vagapov.

Please let me know if you like it.

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We’ll depart this world forever, surely,

To repose in peace and quite. Oh, my Lord!

Maybe, I shall also have to duly

Pack my things preparing for the road.

*

Oh, my birch-tree woods! Amazing pictures!

Oh, my dear land! My sandy plains!

In the face of crowds of mortal creatures

I’m unable to conceal my pains.

*

I’ve been filled with love and admiration

For the things embodying the soul.

Peace to aspens, lost in contemplation,

Spreading branches, staring at the shoal!

*

I have thought in silence days and hours,

I have written songs. And I don’t grieve.

I am happy in this gloomy world of ours

To have had a chance to breathe and live.

*

I am happy, I have kissed a woman,

I have slept in grass and flower-bed,

And I never, like a decent human,

Hit a dog or kitten in the head.

*

The unknown land! No blooming pictures!

No amazing fields of wheat, so fine!

Hence, before the crowds of mortal creatures

I have always shivers down the spine.

*

In that land, I know, there won’t be any

Fields of wheat that shine like gold at night

That’s the reason why I love those many

Living with me in this country-side.

************************************************************************************************

We need more love today!

In a happy family love must flow in all directions. Communications are easy and honest between all generations as it is very important to understand needs of every member of the family.

In February 2013 I wrote in Russian a poem expressing feelings of my wife and myself. The poem written  for our children and grandchildren. Later some of our friends told us that it is applicable to all children and grandchildren.

Below is the poem in English and in Russian. I ask your forgiveness for the loose translation from Russian into English. I hope that you will understand the meaning of the poem.

********************  WE NEED MORE LOVE TODAY!  **************************

We were waiting for you when we were

Single. Then when we married.

We were waiting for you for years,

Then daily and every hour.

*

We loved you before you were born

And love you very much today
Thank you, Lord, for children and

Grandchildren, your gifts to us!

*

Our parents and older relatives passed

Away and their love is in our memories.

Some of our friends left this world too.

We miss their love very much!

*

You are our youth and light.

Our love to you grows every day.

Please love us more,

We need more love today!

*

Love us, show us your love!

There is no sense of hiding it.

Nobody knows how long we’ll

Be together. Hope many years!

*

*****************************  ЛЮБИТЕ НАС!  *********************

*

Мы ждали вас, когда мы были одиноки.
Затем когда уж было двое нас.
Мы ждали вас годами, месяцами.
Затем уж каждый день и каждый час.

*

Любили вас до вашего рожденья,
И любим безгранично вас сейчас.
Спасибо, Бог, за ваше появленье,
За то, что дал нам счастье любить вас!

*

Сегодня мы намного старше стали,

Сегодня дети взрослые у вас.
Родителей давно мы потеряли
И их любовь лишь в памяти у нас.

*

Ушли все те, кто нас постарше был.

Постарше был и крепко нас любил.

Ушли ближайшие друзья не раз,

Нам очень нехватает их сейчас!

*

Наша любовь растёт и процветает,
В семье ведь много больше стало вас.
Обратной же любви нам нехватает,
Дети и внуки, любите больше нас!

*

Любите нас, показывайте это,
Любви стесняться просто смысла нет.
Никто не знает, сколько будем вместе.
Надеемся, ещё немало лет!

***********************************************************************

PAINTING by JF

From a book “Irish Blessings”.

When this blog just started I published a post “I am not Irish”. You can read it HERE.

I mentioned in the post that years ago during an Irish Festival in Pocono Manor I bought a book “Irish Blessings” (1983, Random House) and I shared three blessings with my readers.

It is spring and very soon I am going to Pocono Manor again. Today I want to share with you two more Irish Blessings.

*******************************************************************************************

May brooks and trees 

And singing hills

Join in the chorus too,

And every gentle wind that blows

Send happiness to you.

*******************************************************************************************

Lucky stars above you,

Sunshine on your way,

Many friends to love you,

Joy in work and play.

Laughter to outweigh each care,

In your heart a song

And gladness waiting everywhere

All your whole life long!

Robert W.Service.

Yesterday I received an email from my friend. It said that he translated Robert Service’s poem “My Madonna” into Russian and asked what I thought about the translation. I looked at the original and the translation and answered that translation was good but required more work to become excellent.

I have to confess that before yesterday I did not know the poem and that I liked it.

For those of you, who don’t know or forgot the poem here it is:

**********************************************************************

My Madonna – by Robert W. Service

I haled me a woman from the street,
Shameless, but, oh, so fair!
I bade her sit in the model’s seat
And I painted her sitting there.

I hid all trace of her heart unclean;
I painted a babe at her breast;
I painted her as she might have been
If the Worst had been the Best.

She laughed at my picture and went away.
Then came, with a knowing nod,
A connoisseur, and I heard him say;
“‘Tis Mary, the Mother of God.”

So I painted a halo round her hair,
And I sold her and took my fee,
And she hangs in the church of Saint Hillaire,
Where you and all may see.

**********************************************************************

I also have to confess that I did not remember reading anything else written by Robert W.Service and I did not know anything about him. However, we live in a fairy tale era when we can get necessary information almost immediately.

Surely, I went to Google and found a big article about Robert W.Service on Wikipedia. I highly recommend you to read this article HERE.

I loved reading this well-written informative article about a wonderful creative man who had a very interesting life, met with many famous people, lived in many countries, wrote many poems and novels. 

It was especially interesting for me to read the following:

“He also visited the USSR in the 1930s and later wrote a satirical “Ballad of Lenin’s Tomb“.^[20] For this reason his poetry has never been translated into Russian in the USSR and he was never mentioned in Soviet encyclopedias.^[21]

Service’s second trip to the Soviet Union “was interrupted by news of the Hitler-Stalin pact. Service fled across Poland, Latvia, Estonia and the Baltic to Stockholm. He wintered in Nice with his family, then fled France for Canada.” Not long after, the Nazis invaded France, and “arrived at his home in Lancieux … looking specifically for the poet who had mocked Hitler in newspaper verse.”^[22]

These two paragraphs show clearly what kind of person Robert W.Service was.

I already started exploring Robert W.Service’s writings. Hope you’ll do the same.

WE NEED MORE LOVE TODAY!

This poem posted long time ago. I hope that new followers and guests after reading it will think about their relations with parents and grandparents, will think if they fully show their love and will try to make their parents and grandparents happier.

PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS

In a happy family love must flow in all directions. Communications are easy and honest between all generations as it is very important to understand needs of every member of the family.

In February 2013 I wrote in Russian a poem expressing feelings of my wife and myself. The poem written  for our children and grandchildren. Later some of our friends told us that it is applicable to all children and grandchildren.

Below is the poem in English and in Russian. I ask your forgiveness for the loose translation from Russian into English. I hope that you will understand the meaning of the poem.

********************  WE NEED MORE LOVE TODAY!  **************************

We were waiting for you when we were

Single. Then when we married.

We were waiting for you for years,

Then daily and every hour.

*

We loved you before you were born

And love you very much today
Thank…

View original post 233 more words

11 years of artist Sasha Putrya.

I was born in 1934 in Odessa, Ukraine. Forty three years later (we already lived in New York) Sasha Putrya was born near Poltava, Ukraine (360 miles northeast from Odessa).

Sasha Putrya lived only 11 years but she became famous in many countries.

Read about her life and see her paintings below.

EXTRAORDINARY ARTIST ALEXANDRA PUTRYA

“The woman who left you”.

I got an email and I want to share with you what is in it.

It has three parts: beautiful paintings, excellent poem in Russian “The woman who left you” and a small music clip below the first painting.

The artist is Konstantin Razumov. They call him on the internet “A Russian impressionist”. Look at the paintings and judge yourself.

You can listen to the music without problem.

If you don’t know Russian you can believe me that the poem is good or you can learn Russian. It’s easy!

Now just click here and enjoy!

KONSTANTIN RAZUMOV’S PAINTINGS