[Carl Copeland]

One of Tsvetaeva’s best-loved poems was written 109 years ago today. Russians who don’t know the poem know the song, set to music by Mikael Tariverdiev for the 1974 film The Irony of Fate, a perennial New Year’s Eve favorite (which I don’t happen to like). Here’s a rendition of the song with shots from the 2013 biopic Mirrors (which I haven’t seen): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=prWg...tart_radio =1.


It’s nice to know that you don’t ache for me,
it’s nice to know that I don’t ache for you,
that never will the heavy globe slip free
and leave us, heels upended, in the blue.
It’s nice that I can laugh and be at ease,
let down my hair, not play with words or blush—
a stifling rush of crimson—if our sleeves,
in passing, momentarily should touch.

It’s nice that in my presence you feel free
to take another in your arms, nor do
you promise me infernal agony
because the one I’m kissing isn’t you.
It’s nice that you, my dearest, never say
my dearest name by day or night—in vain—
that never, in a church’s hush, will they
rain hallelujahs on us in refrain!

I’m thankful, as my heart and hand attest,
to know that—even though you’re unaware!—
you love me so: for nights of peaceful rest,
for twilight trysts so mercifully rare,
for strolls beneath the moon that weren’t to be,
for sunlight beaming on some other two,
for showing you don’t ache—alas!—for me,
for knowing I don’t ache—alas!—for you.

3 May 1915


Edits
S1L3: give way > slip free
S1L7: wave > rush


Crib

I like it that you’re not [love]sick over me,
I like it that I’m not [love]sick over you,
that never will the heavy globe of Earth
swim away beneath our feet.
I like it that I can be funny—
loose/unrestrained—and not play with words,
and not blush in a suffocating wave,
having slightly touched sleeves [with you].

I like it that you, in my presence,
can calmly embrace another,
that you don’t consign me to burn
in hellfire because the one I’m kissing isn’t you.
That my tender name, you, my tender [one],
don’t mention by night or day—in vain …
That never in the quiet of a church
will they sing hallelujah over us!

Thanks to you, both heart and hand,*
for—not knowing it yourself!—
loving me so: for my nighttime peace,
for the rareness of encounters in twilight hours,
for our non-strolling beneath the moon,
for the sun over not-our heads,
for the fact that you’re not [love]sick— alas!—over me,
for the fact that I’m not [love]sick—alas!—over you!


* To thank someone “heart and hand” is not a Russian idiom and seems to be a conflation of “thanking from the heart” and “asking for someone’s hand and heart.” The poem was addressed to Mauritius Mints, who couldn’t ask for Tsvetaeva’s hand because she was married and he was engaged to her sister.

The rhyme scheme, which I was unable to duplicate, is AbAbAbAb CdCdCdCd AbAbAbAb, lowercase letters being feminine rhymes.


Original

Мне нравится, что Вы больны не мной,
Мне нравится, что я больна не Вами,
Что никогда тяжелый шар земной
Не уплывет под нашими ногами.
Мне нравится, что можно быть смешной —
Распущенной — и не играть словами,
И не краснеть удушливой волной,
Слегка соприкоснувшись рукавами.

Мне нравится еще, что Вы при мне
Спокойно обнимаете другую,
Не прочите мне в адовом огне
Гореть за то, что я не Вас целую.
Что имя нежное мое, мой нежный, не
Упоминаете ни днем, ни ночью — всуе…
Что никогда в церковной тишине
Не пропоют над нами: аллилуйя!

Спасибо Вам и сердцем и рукой
За то, что Вы меня — не зная сами! —
Так любите: за мой ночной покой,
За редкость встреч закатными часами,
За наши не-гулянья под луной,
За солнце не у нас над головами,
За то, что Вы больны — увы! — не мной,
За то, что я больна — увы! — не Вами!



The only portrait done of Tsvetaeva during her lifetime (Magda Nakhman, 1913)

[Joe Crocker]

Hi Carl

This brought back some memories. I spent most of 1984 in Moscow and went to several of what they called estradnyy concerts. At the time, I was big into punk and new wave and these concerts were full of men in suits and women with bouffant hair singing sentimental schlock. My girlfriend of the time took me to see Alla Pugacheva. I felt mostly bored and embarrassed but my friend was tearfully moved by it all. The clip you linked to had a similar feel. So having established that I’m with Oscar Wilde in thinking “One must have a heart of stone to read the death of little Nell without laughing”, I did warm to your affecting translation. I’m going soft in my old age.

One possible nit. S3L3 “you love me so”. I can’t help reading this in the Perry Como sense of “And I love you so”, where “so” means “so much”, This rather contradicts the poem’s main conceit. I would guess the Russian “Tak” might be better translated as “thus” or “like this” or “in this way”. (But whatever Russian I once knew has long since rusted away.)

I’m off to find some tissues.

Cheers

Joe

[Carl Copeland]

Hi, Joe. I spent most of 1984 in Leningrad, so I know what you mean about the feeling of that clip. I’ve always liked Pugacheva, so I envy you that concert. She no longer performs and is living in self-imposed (and very comfortable) political exile in Israel with her husband, 27 years her junior. You’d be interested in this rendition of the song from the 1974 film: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kRGgwQ2x8JE. It’s less atmospheric, but the voiceover is by Alla herself.

[Joe Crocker]

Hi Carl
Tried to PM you but Eratoshphere says yur inbox is full. But here is what I said

Hi Carl

All a long time ago. I was in Moscow on a British Council Exchange Studentship. (I was studying intelligence in crows!). A complete non-russian speaker when I went, but the University did very generously provide lots of language lessons, so I did pick up fair bit of language. And finding a Russian girlfriend helped!

Although I wasn't a big fan of Alla Pugacheva, I did like the traditional folk songs and Women's choirs. I was also very fond of Zhanna Bichevskaya. Sadly she seems to have turned into a poster girl for the Ukranian invasion. Ah well.

Joe

[Carl Copeland]

Nice reminiscing with you, Joe. The crows here must be unusually intelligent for you to have come so far! I was doing a Russian-language program sponsored by the Council for International Educational Exchange (New York). I did like Pugacheva, but also bards like Okudzhava (though not so much Vysotsky) and also Bichevskaya. I know nothing about what she’s been up to recently, and I’m not sure I want to. I’ll have to clear out my mailbox later.

[Susan McLean]

Nice translation, Carl. I agree with Joe about "you love me so" in S3L3 giving the wrong impression. You could use "thus" or try something like "you love me that way: for my nights of rest."

Susan

[Carl Copeland]

Thanks, Susan. I can respond to your nit and Joe’s at the same time. If “you love me so” comes out in Perry Como’s voice, it could be a problem, but I actually went out of my way to get that “so” in, because I read irony here—in fact, irony on irony. The two apparently did have feelings for one another, but Tsvetaeva says how nice it is that they don’t—and, paradoxically, that he loves her so much that he doesn’t burden her with love.

[Glenn Wright]

Lovely work, Carl. I was unfamiliar with this piece and poet until you mentioned her in an earlier post. You did a great job of keeping the brave, deeply moving tone of the original, which, I think, results from the tension between the speaker’s attempt to seem nonchalant while revealing her tragic sense of loss. It reminds me of Pushkin’s poem, another eulogy for a doomed romance:

      Я вас любил, любовь ешё, быть может . . .

One possible alternative for S3L3 might be, “loving me in that way: for nights of rest.” That also eliminates the redundancy of “peaceful rest.”

Also, check the rhyme scheme you give. I think you are two lines short in each stanza.
Молодец, Carl!

[Carl Copeland]

Thanks so much, Glenn! I should know Tsvetaeva better than I do, because she’s one of the luminaries of the Russian Silver Age, always well represented in anthologies of Russian poetry. The poem is one I read long ago, probably as a student, and it has always stayed with me. The resonance you noticed with Pushkin’s most famous love lyric is very perceptive and no coincidence. Tsvetaeva, like Akhmatova, with whom she corresponded, was passionate about Pushkin.

I still think “you love me so [much]” is right, though your point about “peaceful rest” is well taken.

Right you are about the rhyme scheme, and I’ve corrected that. I guess octuple rhymes just didn’t seem plausible, though Russian case endings do help.

[Matt Q]

Hi Carl,

I like this. Thanks for introducing me to it.

I wonder why you don't have a B-rhyme in S1, but do in S2&3. I guess you could have "will the heavy globe swim free" (or "slip free"), though you already have "free" as a rhyme word in S2.

I also wonder why don't stick more closely to the crib. "ache" is different -- deeper, kind of more genuine, that "lovesick". Lovesick almost implies a certain teenage silliness, a giddiness at least, and liklely a passing phase. OK, I don't know the Russian, so maybe I'm reading too much into this, but you could go with:

I like that you’re not lovesick over me
I like that I’m not lovesick over you,
...
I like that I can laugh and be at ease,

and so on ... or maybe that gets too complicated at the close? Though I reckon the last two lines could maybe stay the same.

S2L2, the "nor do" at the end of the line seems weak to me. I wonder if there's a way end-stop the line? It'd be more song-like.

best,

Matt