[Carl Copeland]

I’m going to cheat this week and post two poems. The second, “In vain do I now flee …,” was likely set aside unfinished, but it seems to have originally been intended for the cycle I’ve been translating and is frequently discussed in that connection. “The Desert Fathers …” is usually printed without a title, as in the manuscript, but Pushkin noted it as “A Prayer” in a list of poems he intended to publish in his journal “Sovremennik.”


The Desert Fathers and the sisters without stain,
to lift their heart to an invisible domain
and strengthen it in strife and tempests here below,
composed a multitude of sacred prayers, but no
devotions can inspire such tenderness in me
as one the priest recites in daily liturgy
throughout the mournful days of Holy Lententide;
more often than the rest, it’s on my lips and mind
and fills me, when I fall, with power from above:
O Lord of all my days, avert the spirit of
despondent listlessness and idle talk from me,
and lust for power, serpent lurking craftily.
But suffer me, O Lord, to see my own transgressions
and not pass judgment on my brother’s imperfections.
I pray you, quicken in my heart the spirit of
humility and patience, chastity and love.


Crib

The Desert Fathers* and chaste/unblemished women,
to soar with their heart to realms beyond sight,
to strengthen it among earthly tempests and battles,
composed a multitude of divine prayers;
but not one of them moves me to tenderness
like the one that the priest repeats/recites
on the sorrowful days of the Great Fast/Lent;
more often than all [others] it comes to my lips
and fortifies the fallen with unknown strength:
Lord of my days, don’t give my soul the spirit
of despondent idleness/sloth, love of power,
that concealed serpent, and idle speech.
But grant me, O God, to see my transgressions,
may my brother not receive judgment from me,
and quicken the spirit of humility, patience, love
and chastity in my heart.


* “The Desert Fathers were early Christian hermits and ascetics, who lived primarily in the Scetes desert of the Roman province of Egypt, beginning around the third century AD. … The desert monastic communities that grew out of the informal gathering of hermit monks became the model for Christian monasticism.” (Wikipedia)


Original

Отцы пустынники и жены непорочны,
Чтоб сердцем возлетать во области заочны,
Чтоб укреплять его средь дольних бурь и битв,
Сложили множество божественных молитв;
Но ни одна из них меня не умиляет,
Как та, которую священник повторяет
Во дни печальные Великого поста;
Всех чаще мне она приходит на уста
И падшего крепит неведомою силой:
Владыко дней моих! дух праздности унылой,
Любоначалия, змеи сокрытой сей,
И празднословия не дай душе моей.
Но дай мне зреть мои, о боже, прегрешенья,
Да брат мой от меня не примет осужденья,
И дух смирения, терпения, любви
И целомудрия мне в сердце оживи.


Note from Michael Wachtel’s Commentary to Pushkin’s Lyric Poetry, 1826-1836

The second half of the poem brilliantly renders in modern Russian the prayer of repentance attributed to Saint Ephrem the Syrian (fourth century), one of the fathers of the Eastern Orthodox Church. This well-known prayer, which Pushkin had once parodied in a letter of 23 March 1821 to Del’vig, is recited at services during Lent: “Господи и Владыко живота моего, дух праздности, уныния, любоначалия и празднословия не даждь ми. Дух же целомудрия, смиренномудрия, терпения и любве, даруй ми рабу Твоему. Ей, Господи Царю, даруй ми зрети моя прегрешения, и не осуждати брата моего, яко благословен еси во веки веков, аминь.” (“O Lord and ruler of my life, do not give me the spirit of idleness, of despondency, of lust for power, and of idle speech. Rather grant me your slave the spirit of chastity, of humility, of patience, and of love. Grant me, Lord King, to see my transgressions and not judge my brother, for you are blessed for eternity, amen.”)


***


In vain do I now flee to Zion’s lofty height;
rapacious sin pursues, hard on my heels in flight …
With gritty nostrils thrust in crumbling sand, voracious,
the lion tracks the fleeing deer’s strong-scented traces.


Edit
deer’s pungently scented traces. > fleeing deer’s strong-scented traces. (Thanks, Julie!)


Crib

I vain I flee to Zion’s heights,
avaricious/ravenous sin pursues at my heels …
Thus, having thrust gritty nostrils in crumbling sand,
the hungry lion tracks the deer’s pungent flight.


Original

Напрасно я бегу к Сионским высотам,
Грех алчный гонится за мною по пятам…
Так, ноздри пыльные уткнув в песок сыпучий,
Голодный лев следит оленя бег пахучий.



Mikhail Nesterov, “The Desert Fathers and the Sisters without Blame,” 1923

[Glenn Wright]

Hi, Carl—

Lovely job, unlike anything else I have read by Pushkin.

In line 4 of the longer poem, does the verb сложить mean “to compose,” as your crib says, or “to pile up?” Are these original prayers that the Desert Fathers compose or set prayers that they recite?

I notice you use “spirit of” in two imperfect rhymes: “above/spirit of” and “spirit of/love.” Is there a way to end all these lines with either stressed or unstressed syllables?

I thought I recognized a reference in the short fragment to a Psalm (or maybe Jeremiah or Lamentations), but I couldn’t find anything close. Is there a Biblical reference there?

Beautiful piece of art!

Glenn

[Carl Copeland]

Thanks, Glenn!

Originally Posted by Glenn Wright

In line 4 of the longer poem, does the verb сложить mean “to compose,” as your crib says, or “to pile up?” Are these original prayers that the Desert Fathers compose or set prayers that they recite?

The root meaning of the verb is “to put together,” but it can also mean “to compose” a song, prayer, etc. The word “compose” has a similar etymology. Here Pushkin is talking about monks and nuns in the early monastic communities who composed prayers that have since become part of devotional practice.

Originally Posted by Glenn Wright

I notice you use “spirit of” in two imperfect rhymes: “above/spirit of” and “spirit of/love.” Is there a way to end all these lines with either stressed or unstressed syllables?

I guess you hear these rhymes as imperfect because “of” isn’t naturally stressed. For me, it’s a promoted syllable that carries the stress, making a perfect rhyme. I agree that there’s something a little odd and perhaps un-Pushkinlike about ending a line with “of,” so I’ll think about it, but it’s the only way I could find to get the first “spirit” in.

Originally Posted by Glenn Wright

I thought I recognized a reference in the short fragment to a Psalm (or maybe Jeremiah or Lamentations), but I couldn’t find anything close. Is there a Biblical reference there?

No commentary that I’ve read has cited a specific biblical reference, though the fragment does sound biblical.

[Julie Steiner]

the lion tracks the deer’s pungently scented traces.
>>
the lion tracks the fleeing deer’s strong-scented traces.


(I think the image of the deer/sinner trying to escape the lion/sin is less clear if you don't include the crib's concept of "flight.")

[Carl Copeland]

Great, Julie! I like your version and am trying it out. It spoils the midline caesura, but that’s something I almost never manage to maintain throughout a hexameter poem. I think I like your “strong-scented” better than my rather ponderous “pungently scented.” One thing that no translation I’ve seen has captured is Pushkin’s interesting “strong-scented flight.” The problem is that everyone, including me, has felt the need for the “height/flight” rhyme in the first couplet. Another possibility for the last line would be: “The lion tracks the deer’s pungently fleeing traces.” “Fleeing traces” might be going too far, though. Thanks again, Julie!