intellectualwhores.com was happy to recently receive comments from Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin. His original Russian and my translation of his comments are both included below.
Ed. Note:Poetry is the most difficult to translate of all the literary arts. Many would argue that poetry is essentially untranslateable. However, since Pushkin was kind enough to honor our site with verse, I thought it only fair to make an attempt here. For further comments on the art and science of translation see Steiner's useful book, After Babel: Aspects of Language and Translation.|
Вы Даллас чмоб чего - же боле?
Что Я могу ешё сказать? Теперь же в вашей сучьей воле Меня презреньем наказать К своей же если срачной доле хоть каплю жалости храня Ты, чмо, послушаешь меня. Сначала промолчать хотел я Такогоб как вы бля стыда, никто не пиздил никогдаю когда-б надежду все имели чтоб бляб, от счастья видеть вас, вы всех избавили на раз. Но ты же блять не пропиздим. строчиш хуйнюю Что видеть скучно А думаешь: "как мы блестим!!" С тобой, уродб, мне в мире душно!!!" -- А.С. Пушкин |
Unlike this Dallas Lynn
I live in lonely desolation And wonder when my end will come. Thus on a naked tree-limb, blasted By tardy winter's whistling chill, A single leaf -- the Ladder Theory. May it sound its horn across the plains And stand steadfast like Russia, And unlike me who died for a woman When I was motherfucking Pushkin And could have had seven more just like her. Now that I know my heart grows lighter, Even though I am in God's Providence now my rage Is dissipated in cold fire -- I am a poor captive freed from the cage! --A.S. Pushkin |