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Velimir Khlebnikov

Kawi. Poems

My translations

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{VERSES & TRANSLATIONS}

Here you will find texts of three kinds:

1. My translations of Velimir Khlebnikov's poems into English. First I read his poems at the age of 12 and since that time they have been with me. When I was a student I translated one of his poems, Lice stupidly prayed godding me... [Вши тупо молилися мне...], into English. I am grateful to my university teacher, G.B. Bogorad, who supported me and my English friend, Simon Wickham-Smith, who was always ready to edit my English texts. I don't think my translations have much value for the English reader but for me they are important as any personal touch on the great Russian poet's verses.

2. My own selected poems in both Russian and English. Some of the poems are yet to be translated.

3. Selected poetical translations of mine from English and some other languages into Russian. Translations from Tibetan are available at the section Tibetan Studies.

Below goes the last update.

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{Velimir Khlebnikov}

Мне, бабочке, залетевшей
В комнату человеческой жизни,
оставить почерк моей пыли
По суровым окнам,
На стеклах рока.
Так серы и скучны обои из мертвых растений
Человеческой жизни; пылью своей
Быть живописцем себя
На стеклах рока, большеокого рока.
Вдруг увидеть открытую дверцу
В другой мир, где пение птиц и синий сквозняк,
Где мило всё, даже смерть
В зубах стрекозы.
О, улетевшая прочь пыль
И навсегда полинявшие крылья!
Окон прозрачное «нет».
За ними шелест и пляска
Бабочек любви стучится. Пляшет любовь
                    бабочек высоко в ветре,
Я уже стер свое синее зарево и точек узоры
Вдоль края крыла. Синее зарево.
Скучны и жестоки
Мои крылья, пыльца снята. Навсегда.
Бьюсь устало в окно человека.
Ветка цветущих чисел
Бьется через окно
Чужого жилища.

1922

Shall I, a butterfly who flew in
The room of the human life,
Leave a sign of my dust
On the stern windows,
On the glass of fate.
So grey and boring are dead plants, wallparers
Of human life; with my dust
Shall I be a painter of myself
On the glass of fate, large-eyed fate?
Shall I suddenly see the open door
Into another world with the singing of birds and blue draught,
Where everything's nice, even death
In the dragon-fly's teeth?
Oh, dust that flew away
And wings that faded forever!
Transparent "no" of windows.
Behind them the rustle and dancing
Of love's butterflies knock. The butterflues' love is dancing
                    high up in the wind,
I've already rubbed away my blue glow and patterns of points
Along the wing. The blue glow.
Boring and cruel
Are my wings, pollen is swept away. Forever.
I'm wearily beating against the wind of a man.
The branch of blossoming ciphers
Is beating at the window
Of somebody's home.

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