Переводы из классики на английский

From “Eugene Onegin” by A. Pushkin: Но грустно думать, что напрасно...

It's sad to think, that it’s in vain
The gift of youth is wasted thus,
That we’ve betrayed it in the main,
That it has disappointed us;
That all the best of our wishes,
That dreams, exalted and delicious,
Decayed forever, in a rush,
Like fallen leaves in autumn slush.
It’s so intolerable to see
Long dinners, which are so rife,
To stick to a ritualistic life,
And with a crowd’s ascendancy
To go, not sharing with its fashion
Nor mutual points of view or passions.





What does my name reveal to you… - A. Pushkin: Что в имени тебе моем…

What does my name reveal to you?
It will be dead as a wistful sound
Of wave, that splashed a shore around,
As a noise of night in backwoods blue.

It will remain an obsolete sign
In memory’s album like a rough
And patterned looking epitaph
In any language undefined.

What is in it? Lost long ago
With new and passionate emotion,
To soul of yours it will not go
As a remembrance of love's potion.

But in a melancholy day
Exclaim it with a great relief,
Say, memories don’t pass away,
There is a heart where I still live.





A lonely sail: Парус - М. Лермонтов

A sail, shown white and lonely, stations
At sea in a bluish hazy band!..
What does it seek in foreign nations?
What has it left in its homeland?..

The wind is high, the waves are playing,
The mast on board both bends and scrapes;
Alas! It’s not for luck its praying,
Nor from its fortune it escapes!

Beneath it sky-blue squirts are foaming,
Above it, aureate rays release...
But it, rebellious, thirsts for storming,
As though a storm might bring forth peace!





A prophet: Пророк – М. Лермонтов

Since, from the everlasting judge,
Given the charisma of a prophet,
I read a list of sin and grudge:
As eyes of men are pages of it.

So I proclaimed love’s sanctity
And homespun truth of pure teaching:
The neighbors pelted stones at me
In violent passion for my preaching.

Having put ashes on my head,
I left all goods and chattels mine,
Stayed in the desert, life I led,
Like birds’, kept on by food divine.

Retaining heavens in my heart,
I am in charge of earthly creatures;
And stars, the listeners of my art,
Reveal to me their joyful features.

But passing through a noisy town,
I hurry up with some precaution,
Old men, when see me, always frown,
And share with children sly emotion:

"Look: that's a good example for you!
When dealt with us he was so proud:
Convincing us that it is true,
That through his voice the Lord speaks out!

Look, children, he is on the run:
How he is naked, pale, exhausted!
See, he is poorest and unposted,
How he is scorned by everyone!”





I am going up the road alone: Выхожу один я на дорогу… - Михаил Лермонтов

I am going up the road alone;
Through the mist, the flint is softly bright;
Still the night. The desert is God's own,
And the stars are talking at a height.

All the heaven is marvellous and glory! 
The whole world is sleeping in blue haze…
Why does suffering force me to feel sorry?
Is hope lost? Do I regret my days?

Life goes on with lack of expectations,
Yet I don’t regret my past at all;
Peace and freedom are my inspirations!
Into sleep, while dreaming, I would fall!

But it’s not the cold of grave that keeping…
Everlasting sleep would be the best,
Let me feel the force of life through sleeping,
Let my breathing softly heave my chest;

Let all day and night, my ear to cherish,
A sweet voice singing of love to me,
And above me, green and never perish,
Leaves would rustling in a grand oak-tree.





I love a storm the young May bringing: Весенняя гроза - Федор Тютчев

I love the early May storm’s coming,
When heard the first spring’s thunderclaps,
All romping, playing, full of charming,
Roar in the blue sky's rainclouds gaps

The claps of thunder are increasing,
The sprinkled rain is slashing dust,
The pearly looking drops are drizzling,
The sun is gilding squirts of gust.

A stream runs down the hill, in twisting,
The birds chirp in the wood around,
These uphill rumpus and birds whistling -
Both gaily echo thunders’ sound...

You’ll say, it’s Hebe windy-headed,
When fed the eagle of Zeus, has spilt
Her cup, with thunderstorms embedded,
From heaven on earth and laughed her lilt.





Be silent, move aside and hide…: Silentium - Федор Тютчев

Be silent, move aside and hide
Both dreams and feelings of your mind –
Let them, forever, rise and set,
Within your soul’s depth as yet,
In silence, as the stars at night, -
Admire them in solemn quiet.

How can a heart express its view?
How does a stranger know you?
Will he conclude what is your life?
A thought being told is just a lie.
Being troubled, springs are never bright, -
You’d better drink them - and be quiet.

Try to achieve an inner goal -
The real world is within your soul
Of thoughts, you readily rejoice,
That couldn’t stand the utter noise,
The daily fuss keeps off delight -
Just listen to them – in solemn quiet!..





A legend of Stenka Razin - Дмитрий Садовников

From behind a splendid island,
Coursing on the river stream,
Boats are floating, richly painted,
Tapered and broad in the beam.

On the first it's Stenka Razin,
A princess is by his side,
It’s the day of his new wedding,
He is proud and slightly tight.

Suddenly is heard a whisper:
“He’s exchanged us for his wife,
Just one night he has been with her,
Now he leads a female life”.

Oh, the Volga, dear mother,
Russian river, bright and strong,
Have you ever had a present
From the Cossack of the Don!

At one stroke he lifts the beauty
With no chance for her to save,
Just to throw her overboard,
To the swiftly running wave.

“Why, old guys? Aren’t you cast down?
Hey, dance, Phyla, take a role!
Let us strike up, boldly singing,
As a prayer for her soul”.