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

Right, my original version didn’t have “early.” I’ve fixed that.

Yes, that’s the quandary I’m in, and the anomalous IP line in my first version tipped me in favor of the new one.

Well, if you’re really, really interested, there are these too:

https://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=35902
https://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=35881
https://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=35757

I don’t advertise the latter two, because the poems are seriously twisted.

Carl, I think your translation of Tsvetaeva is lovely. I have read that poem of hers in a different translation, and yours is much better in my opinion. (Do you have plans to publish a collection of your translations of Russian poets? If you ever do, I would certainly be interested!)

Going back to Zenkevich, I meant to add earlier that I definitely do put stress on the first syllable of "baptized". I also noticed the conventionality of sirens that "wail" as opposed to the crib. "Bawl" is an improvement there, I think.

Like Matt, I'm not crazy about "with a pang" - it sounds a little too much like padding for the sake of rhyme and meter. What about "the soul's anxieties close in"? As in, the anxieties are encroaching on the soul? It's not completely literal, but it would give you a slant rhyme with "pan."

I’m so happy you liked it, Hilary. It may be Tsvetaeva’s best-loved poem. It was the first of hers I read many years ago and has always stayed with me. As for the collection, I’m taking preorders for the year 2043 or so.

I still like “pang,” but if the line gets a rewrite—and I will have to consider it—the new rhyme for “pan” should probably be “again,” since that word is actually in the Russian.

Thanks again, Hilary! There’s one more Zenkevich that I haven’t posted, so do stop by later in the week.

Well, "again" would be fine. Maybe "The soul suffers anxieties again" or something along those lines? I don't know, but I would keep playing with it.

If "again" works for you, then how about?:

Now the soul frets anxiously again

"Fret" gives you repine -- in English at least. Though from your list of synonyms earlier, maybe "yearns" would fit it better? The line then seems closer to the crib. The repining is clear, which I don't think it is in the current version, and the recurrence (the "again") is now mentioned.

What the current line says seems unclear to me, which I guess is makes it seem awkwardly phrased and hence rhyme-driven. Either a pang -- a sudden pain or painful emotion -- coincides with the arrival of anxiety, or the anxiety arrives in the form of a pang. I'm more inclined to read the latter, because otherwise no candidate for the pang is suggested, and normally one is. Read this way, though, the repining is lost. If read as the former, I'm guessing at what it's a pang of. Several of usual suspects -- loss, sorrow, longing -- would work with "repine", but others like guilt, jealousy, hunger etc. don't.

-Matt

By popular demand, I’m trying out a new version of S4L1 which is more literally accurate, though I thought “pang” captured more of the spirit. It may grow on me. Thanks, Hilary and Matt, for your persistence.

I like it. I think it reads much more naturally now.

I'm with Hilary on this. It does read much more naturally to me. And "pines" is a good choice, I think.

Just looking again at this:

gloomy cesspools sunken underground.

Is "sunken" being used correctly here? It doesn't seem quite right to me. Isn't it an adjective e.g. "The sunken ship", "her sunken cheeks"? Here it seems more like it's being used as a verb (past participle). In which case, wouldn't it be "gloomy cesspools sunk underground"? Or as an adjective, "gloomy cesspools, sunken, underground" or "gloomy, sunken cesspools underground"?

-Matt

Matt, I pride myself on being a stickler for grammar, so it’s great when somebody (usually you) finds something that never entered my head. A little research tells me that “sunken” is an old past participle that’s used today primarily as an adjective. I think I could probably defend it as an adjective here: it’s not an aboveground cesspool that has sunk underground; but a cesspool that is and always has been sunken underground. That said, I did feel a little uneasy about this wording, though I couldn’t put my finger on it. Maybe it was your point of grammar or the redundancy or both. Anyway, what would you think about replacing it with something like “lurking”?

You could, but I'd be on you like a ton of bricks, or some other mixed metaphor :)

Is it correct to say that it's a "cesspool that is and always has been sunken underground"? Doesn't that just make "sunken" work like it a past participle again. It is sunken, sure. And it is underground. But is it "sunken underground"? Or is it actually "sunken and underground"?

I guess that test would be: how does it work if I substitute another adjective, e.g.:

"gloomy cesspits dismal underground"

in that case, I think we'd want a comma or two otherwise dismal feels like it's being used as a verb. (Or maybe not. I've been thinking about it too much now to get a clear sense of it!)

Anyway, I'm arguing this for the fun of it, since you're planning to change it anyway.

"lurking" certainly revolves the issue I think exists with the existing line: its now very clear what part of speech it is. And it jibes with "hidden". There's maybe also "buried", which also jibes with hidden. Though since "hidden" is already in the stanza, I guess "stinking" might be an option too. Or "feeding"?

Rereading this:

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

I realise that its not that clear which is figurative and which literal. Are they literal pigs that are being likened to cesspools? The colon structure would normally suggest that I think. Whereas in the crib it's made very clear that it's the other way around.

-Matt

Pile ’em on!

My brain is beginning to get tied in knots over this too. On the one hand, I can’t think of an adjective (not derived from a verb) that would pass your test. On the other, “underground” is an adverb here, and adverbs can modify adjectives, so what’s wrong with it? If I can say “a deeply sunken cesspool,” why not “a cesspool sunken deeply”? Anyway, there is something that bugs me about the line, though it’s not as clear to me as it is to you.

All good suggestions. I’d use “wallowing” if it fit.

I don’t see why the colon favors one over the other, and I was hoping I could rely on readers to figure it out. If I listed

sirens
foghorns
steam/smoke
buildings
swine
cesspools

… and told you one of the last two items didn’t fit the picture, would it really be a problem? I’m not wedded to the colon, of course. Would another mark of punctuation do better? A backward-pointing colon maybe? ))

I don't know that it's necessarily the colon, as such, but the order. A comma doesn't seem to change anything, for example. Absent any words to clarify the relationship, it reads to me as if the pigs are being portrayed as cesspools, not the other way around.

And the poem does describes a scene from a former time, and also a waterfront. Literal pigs aren't out of the question. Well, OK, I did grow up in town that from the 1700s until my childhood was dominated by a huge bacon and pork pie factory at its centre, slaughterhouse and all, so maybe that's just me :)

Still, it can also be read that neither the cesspools or the chomping pigs are literal.

Anyway, yes, given time, a reader may well figure it out, but I don't know if that's the best endorsement.

I don't see any easy tweak that keeps the metre, but I reckon you have do other options if you rewrite. Here's a rough attempt at making the figurative relationship clear.

Hidden yet more shamelessly from view,
underground in gloom, the day’s excreta
fattens chomping hogs of cesspools through
orifices of sewage (spewing?) cloaca.

Ok, it's very slant B rhyme, and is maybe too scatological. And I've just realised that "cloaca" is singular so the rhyme doesn't work! Still, it might be worth having another crack at that stanza.

best,

Matt

Granted, but “literal pigs” seem much less likely to me, and I don’t think even “chomping hogs of cesspools” rules them out. It would have to be “chomping hoglike cesspools! I’ll think more on it. Thanks for keeping after me, Matt!