Zenkevich, “November Day” (1912)
 

November Day

Nicotine-filled lungs, a hazy brain,
creeping fog … How heavily you weigh—
baptized early by an icy rain,
now a whiny, yellow-swaddled day!

Narrow apertures let out white gasps:
sirens bawl, and foghorns, with a howl,
cloak the waterfront in inky wraps;
carters rattle buildings with their haul.

Hidden shamelessly from view, the slime
generated by the day is downed
sloppily by chomping, slurping swine:
murky cesspools lurking underground.

Now the soul pines anxiously again,
lest it fool itself as darkness looms:
flecks of gold that glitter in the pan
won’t redeem the day’s excess of ooze.


Edits
S2L1: release > let out
S2L2: wail > weep > bawl
S3L4 was: gloomy cesspools sunken underground.
S4L1 was: Now the soul grows anxious with a pang,


Crib

November Day

Fumes in the brain and nicotine in the lungs—
and fog starts creeping … Oh, how heavy/oppressive you are
after an icy, rainy baptism/christening,
a whiny day in yellow swaddling!

A narrow outlet for white choking/gasping—
all the sirens weep, and horns,
with a howl, dress the coastal area with India ink,
and draymen/draught horses shake buildings.

And more shamelessly hidden from view,
in underground gloom, impurities of the day
are devoured by the chomping hog
of sewage treatment cesspools/cloacae.

And in anxiety again the soul repines
so as not to delude itself before dark:
a particle of panned gold
will not redeem all the daytime muck/haze/murk.


Original

Ноябрьский день

Чад в мозгу, и в легких никотин —
И туман пополз… О, как тяжел ты
После льдистых дождевых крестин,
День визгливый под пеленкой желтой!

Узкий выход белому удушью —
Все сирены плачут, и гудки
С воем одевают взморье тушью,
И трясут дома ломовики.

И бесстыдней скрытые от взоров
Нечистоты дня в подземный мрак
Пожирает чавкающий боров
Сточных очистительных клоак.

И в тревоге вновь душа томиться,
Чтоб себя пред тьмой не обмануть:
Золота промытого крупица
Не искупит всю дневную муть.

Hi Carl,

I've not previously read anything by Zenkevich, and I really enjoyed this one. Thanks for posting it. I think a lot of this is working pretty well.

A question. Do you need to exactly match the Russian metre, since after all you're translating? I do think you'd have a much easier time of it if you wrote this in IP. I'm assuming the metre is more natural/easier when written in Russian? Starting every line on a stressed syllable seems at times to push you into difficulties and more-awkward phrasings than if you'd been writing in IP. Not that I think I'll change your mind, of course :) But I'm interested in why, and I'd also be interested to see this in IP (so maybe I should give it a go!). All that said, I quite like the sound of the metre. Terser and always pushing forward off the first stressed syllable.

From the crib, I first took the opening to be saying that N has nicotine in his lungs and fumes in his brain. Then the fog creeps in (I take this literally, not a mental fog, though possibly that's intended too). Then the "you" is addressed to the day: after the rain, it's now wrapped in fog -- since the rest of the poem can't easily be taken as self-address (which is how I'd first read the "you"). However, I guess it also could even be that "Fumes in the brain and nicotine in the lungs" is not referring to the N, but is instead (also?) figuratively describing the day.

Anyhow, I think it perhaps the translation is a little more confusing due to the inclusion of "creeping fog" in the initial list, since the nicotine and hazy brain (taken literally) are properties of humans, and creeping fog (taken literally) is a property of the day. But maybe you've grouped them this because you think first line is also addressed to the day? Or because the metre makes it hard to more closely echo the original. Still, in the original, the fog is separated out.

S1L3: "bapTIZED" is the only time you don't start a line with a stressed syllable. But presumably this is an acceptable substitution? Or do you say "BAPtized"?

S2L1 "let go" might be nicer sonically, than "release", I think, picking up the 'g' of gasp.

I guess you have "narrow apertures" because the metre prevents an easy way to have single aperture -- or an "outlet", for that matter, which has nice double meaning in English (and maybe in Russian too?). Still I'm thinking the idea/subtext is pressure, difficulty in release, and several narrow apertures still convey that, I think. And if the "outlet" in the poem relates to the sirens and foghorns (steam-driven?), as the translation seems to take it to be, the poem does then become plural with these.

S2L2 I wondered why the sirens wail, whereas in the crib they weep. Wailing is more conventionally associated with sirens, and absent the crib, the personification, and the connection to weeping (to weeping and wailing) is likely to be overlooked by the reader. Besides, "wail" rather duplicates "howl".

S3L2, there might be something more interesting/image-based than "generated". Something along the lines of "spewed/belched (up/out/forth)" might well fit with the chomping and slurping theme, if you can find a way to fit it in.

S4L1, "with a pang" strikes me as overly rhyme-driven. The line also seems closer to the original without it. That said, hard to see a rhyme for "pan". Could you work with "the soul grows anxious for a span", meaning "for a while"? The next line implies it's anxious for a period of time (before dark).

S4L3, again, plural rather than singular for the metre, but I don't think it detracts from the meaning. Would "specks" be an option? Suggesting perhaps an even smaller particle, and the 'p' picking up on "pan". I do like how you add a toilet reference with "pan" that (presumably?) isn't there in the original, but works really well in context.

Thanks for introducing me to this poet. I enjoyed reading your translation.

best,

Matt

Hi, Carl—

Very interesting use of rhyme. The perfect rhyme in S1 gradually becomes slantier, moving into pararhyme in S2 (howl/haul) and finally to mere assonance (looms/ooze). You do a fine job of capturing the wet, grimy ugliness of an urban November.

The horses that would have moved heavy materials at docks and warehouses 100+ years ago have given way to heavy machinery today. You may have chosen “carters” in S2L4 to evoke the period in which the poem was written. A more generic “truckers” or “drivers” would allow the reader to imagine a contemporary scene.

I like the comparison of the sound of water draining into a sewer to the noises made by feeding swine.

I wondered what the “particle of panned gold” in S4L3 might have been. A pretty girl? A beautiful line of poetry that occurs to the N?

Fine job!

Glenn

This may be a personal pet peeve, but the way the translation moves from full rhymes to increasingly loose ones bothers me. Does it work similarly in the Russian? I can see that there might be times where this particular effect of deteriorating rhyme is wanted, but I don't know that it really fits this poem, which is rather seedy right from the beginning. I'd rather all the rhymes were slant.

I also don't know if "slime" really conveys "impurities of the day"?

Otherwise, I enjoyed this. I have read a bit about Zenkevich in the context of other Russian poets but had not read anything by him.

Thanks, Matt, Glenn and Hilary!

It’s unsurprising that you’ve never read Zenkevich, since I’ve never seen any translations other than my own. Mikhail Zenkevich (1886-1973) has been called the “fourth Acmeist”—a distant fourth in terms of name recognition behind Gumilev, Akhmatova and Mandelstam. In the Soviet period, he published mainly translations, notably of American poetry. I’m impressed that Hilary has heard of him. A very well-read Russian friend of mine didn’t know the name, but immediately recognized Zenkevich’s brilliant Russian translation of Poe’s “The Raven.”

I think of a poem’s meter as its key signature or flavor and always try to match it. There are times when I’ve tried changing the meter and felt like I was switching from chocolate to strawberry. Recently, though, I’ve been getting some good results by trimming hexameter to pentameter. Hexameter is hard to pull off in English, and trochaic is too, I think. I did have some trouble with it here, and it’s possible I should have tried IP. Trochaic is easier in Russian, if only because there are no articles, so no problem of avoiding them at the beginning of lines. There are even three common prepositions that are single consonants and so can start a line without adding a syllable.

I wonder if “How heavily you weigh” is one of those awkward phrasings. My original version of S1 was:

Nicotine-filled lungs, a hazy brain,
creeping fog … Upon the heart you weigh
so heavy—baptized by an icy rain,
now a whiny, yellow-swaddled day!

It didn’t sound right to me without “so,” and that turns L3 into IP, but I don’t mind a bit of variation. I’d be interested in knowing what Glenn and Hilary think about this as well.

That’s how I understood it too, but it’s poetically open to interpretation.

Yeah, I guess you could call it a meter-driven condensation. I didn’t think it would be confusing, but I do see your point. I’m glad you called it to my attention, though I’m not sure any change I could make (e.g., “fog creeps in”) would make it crystal clear.

Interesting. I do say “BAPtized,” as do most Americans, according to a site I consulted.

I’ll make a note of that and let it sink in.

I must have been seduced by the conventional association. And weeping didn’t sound loud enough for sirens. But you’re right, and I’ll make that change.

You could be right, but since “generated” is really just filling space, I kind of liked the neutrality of it, rather than stuffing in even more of those sloppy, noisy words.

Hmm. I think “for a span” may sound even more rhyme-driven to me. I translated “repines in anxiety” by changing “anxiety” into the verb phrase “grows anxious” and turning the hard-to-translate Russian verb (repines, languishes, yearns, is sick at heart) into “with a pang.” That was the idea, anyway.

Yeah, “flecks,” like “apertures” is plural for the meter (as is “swine” for the rhyme). At the moment, I prefer “flecks,” but “specks” is certainly an option, and I’ll keep it in mind. No, there’s no toilet reference and no “pan” in the original. The Russian word for “panned” is literally something like “washed out.”

Thanks, Matt; I always learn from your comments.

Thanks, Glenn. Interesting that you and Hilary both noticed the “deteriorating rhyme.” The Russian rhymes are pure, to answer her question, and I go slant when I can’t manage pure, so it’s just the way it came out. No design.

Either would fit the bill. I read it as any glimpse of beauty he found in the muck of the day.

Well, of course, I chose “slime” for the rhyme with “swine,” but the Russian word, literally “impurity,” can mean “sewage,” among other things, so I think it’s slimier than the English word. I hope I can get away with it.

Thanks, Hilary. I’m glad you’ve jumped in here. This forum doesn’t get a lot of traffic, so I hope you’ll keep looking in.

I’m amazed the name rings a bell at all. I hadn’t heard of him myself until I was referred to one of his poems as the possible source of a strange phrase in Mandelstam. If you and Matt are interested in reading a little more Zenkevich, check out these:

https://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=35848
https://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=36010
https://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=35866
https://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=35891

I'm currently reading Roberta Reeder's biography of Anna Akhmatova, and she goes into a fair amount of detail about the Russian literary scene of that time period. I found Akhmatova's poems (in translation) a couple years ago by accident, and then I found Mandelstam, and then it turned into something of an obsession. It's hard to find English translations of the lesser known poets from that time. I have a slim volume of Aleksandr Blok.

I will definitely check out those other threads later when I have time. Thank you!

That would explain it. Akhmatova was actually the first Russian poet I fell in love with, long before my obsession with Pushkin, and now I’ve returned to the Acmeists. I’ve translated a few poems by Akhmatova, Mandelstam and Zenkevich, and I need to look at Gumilev, Narbut and a few others. Since you’re interested in the Russian Silver Age, you might like my only translation from Tsvetaeva: https://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=35728

Hi, Carl—

I like “How heavily you weigh” in S1L2 and do not find it at all awkward.

I wonder if you could solve the problem of separating the day’s “creeping fog” from the N’s nicotiney lungs and hazy brain by returning to the original Russian punctuation. Use an em-dash at the end of S1L1 and a comma at the end of S1L2. The “creeping fog” reminded me of Eliot’s “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” and the line, “The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the windowpanes.” Although much grittier and dirtier, Zenkevich’s poem also recounts the thoughts of a poet walking through a city. I wondered if Zenkevich and Eliot knew each other. Eliot wrote “Prufrock” in 1910-11 and published it in 1915, around the same time that Zenkevich was working on this poem. (Pretty tenuous, I suppose.)

I wonder if “sirens bawl” in S2L2 might be an alternative to the much-too-soft “sirens weep” or the predictable “sirens wail.” “Bawl” also picks up the reference to an infant from S1 and is close in meaning to плачут.

I very much like the “deteriorating” rhyme, as it parallels the decline and deterioration of the city.

Upon re-reading, I noticed that the poem encompasses a whole day. It begins with a reference to baptism of the infant day swaddled in yellow, which suggests the first gleam of sunlight in the clouds and also reinforces the filthiness by suggesting urine stains. It ends with looming darkness, which implies that the gold particle is the last gleam of sunlight as well as whatever small bit of beauty the poet can distill from his depressing surroundings.

Very fine work, Carl!

Glenn

I thought of playing with the punctuation, but didn’t think it would do much good. It’s worth another look, though.

An intriguing connection, but I don’t suppose Zenkevich would have seen a prepublication copy of “Prufrock.” Interestingly, he translated at least five Eliot poems in the 1960s (not “Prufrock,” though).

That’s pretty brilliant, answering both my concerns and Matt’s and yielding an internal rhyme as a side benefit. Thanks!

Nice interpretation!

I'm guessing you intended to lose, "early", as it's redundant? Otherwise L3 is hexameter. I do think it's better without "early".

I don't think "how heavily you weigh" sounds awkward in itself, but it does rather raise the question, "on what?". I think the version above makes it clearer as to who "you" is -- that it isn't self-address. It does seem more awkward though, with that inversion. And shouldn't it be "heavily"? Though I think this construction is more acceptable in the US.

Thanks for the links. I found a few of his poems online, too.

Matt