Английский перевод Л. Наровчатской
Источник:
Наровчатская Л. Б. Первозванность. Поэтико-фантастическое эссе с приложением перевода древнерусской поэмы «Слово о полку Игореве» по римско-славянскому канону М.: Художественная литература, 1991. — С. 266—348.
- 1. Befitting,
Brothers,
Would it
Not be,
To begin
With time-worn
Words
This woeful
News
Of war,
And the ways
Of Igor,
Son of
Svyatoslav. - 2. So
Let
This song
Begin
With deeds
Of these days
Therefore,
But not
With bold ideas
Of old Boyan… - 3. Boyan the bard
By God inspired!
And true,
If he sought
In song
To praise
Some noble man,
His thoughts
Would sprout like
Budding branches
do,
Or like
Blue eagles
From the clouds - 4. Would scan,
Like grey wolves
Scour the
Meadows o’er.
«Recall,»
He cried,
«Old times
Of woe
And war!»
Then
Loose
Ten
Falcons
On a white
Swan flock.
To whichever
They wing,
That one
Is first
To sing
Its song
Of Yaroslav
Of old,
And
Mstislav
Bold,
Who slew
Rededya
In view of
The Kassog
Host!
Then of fair
Roman,
Son of Svyatoslav
He told. - 5. Boyan, though,
Brothers,
No falcons
Would loose
On some poor
Swan or goose™
He laid
Wise
Fingers
Upon
Each
Living
String,
And they
Of themselves
To princes
Praise
Would sing… - 6. Let us then,
My brothers,
Begin
The story clear,
From old-time
Vladimir
To our-time
Igor
Here:
He moulded
His mind
With all
His will,
Also
Sharpened
His heart
Which with
Courage - 7. Would fill
All his soul,
With valour
Would overfill.
Therefore he led
His fearless
Warriors
Thus,
Against the land
Of the Polovtsi,
And for the
Land of Rus. - 8. Then
Igor
Glanced
At
That bright
Sun –
And darkness
Saw!
From it
A shade
Fell over all
His men,
And shadows
Covered them! - 9. «Eh-eh-eh!»
Said
Igor
To them
Then – - 10. «Eh-eh-eh,
Brothers!
Eh-eh-eh!
My fighting men!
Better
Be buried
Beneath
Earth’s shade,
Rather than be
Captives made! - 11. We shall prevaill
Bestride,
My brothers,
Each
Bold
Fleet steed,
And let us
See blue river
Don, indeed!» - 12. Fired was
The Prince’s
Mind
With desire
That day!
The wish
Was a sign
To him
To act
straightway.
To taste
The mighty
Don,» - 13. Said he,
«lam
Full fain!
To splinter
A spear
At the end
Of the
Polovets plaid
With you,
O Russians,
Willi
Lay low
My head,
Or drink
A helmetful
Of Don
Water
Instead!»- - 14. Oh-oh-oh!
Boyan,
Eh-eh-eh!
The nightingale
Of that ancient
Day!
Were you
To sing –
Those paeans
Would itch,
All bewitching,
With praises
Fine,
Through the tree
Of thought
A-flitting,
Through your
Wise mind!
‘Neath the clouds
Would pour forth
Songs of praise
To both halves
Of these
Glorious days!
Trotting there
On Troyan’s
Trail
Over hill
And field
And dale - 15. Thus would you
Sing
Of Igor
Your songs,
The grandson
Who to Oleg
Belongs: - 16. «No storm
Has swept
The falcons on
Through wide
Fields –
These are
Crows!
Flocks flee
Cawing
To
Mighty Don!..» - 17. Should it
Not thus
Be sung
Of those,
O Boyan, who
Such stories tells –
Grandson of the
Old god Velles? - 18. Horses neigh
Beyond
The Sula
Praises
Throughout Kiev
Ring:
In Novgorod
Are blown
The bugles,
Banners
In Putivl
Swing,–
Igor
Waits
Brother
Vsevolod
Today… - 19. And
To him
Does
Buffalo
Vsevolod
Say: - 20. «One
Brother –
One
Light
So bright
I have.
O Igor,
We both
Are sons
Of Svyatoslav! - 21. So
Saddle,
Dear
Brother,
Eh-eh-eh!
Your fine
Fleet-footed
Steeds straightway! - 22. Mine
Are saddled
And ready,»
He said,
‘Waiting for us
At Kursk ahead!
Ah, my men, - 23. My Kursk-bred
Men –
Well-tried
Warriors,
Sharp of ken!
‘Neath
Trumpets
Swaddled,
‘Neath the
Helmets
Cuddled,
‘Neath
Spear-heads
Fed! - 24. – – –
- 25. – – –
- 26. Then
Igor
The prince
In his golden
Stirrup
Stepped –
Shook his reins
And out
On the plains
He swept.
T - 27. he darkened
Sun
Then crossed
His way
With shade! - 28. The night
To him
Its threatening
Groanings made! - 29. Polovtsian scouts
Perched
Like birds
In trees
Then whistled –
That Beast-tribe
Messengers
Ride
To Chiefs
In the rear,
And warn
All these,
On the distant
Volga,
The far sea-side,
The Sula’s banks,
Surozh,
And Korsun,
And you
Wilful idol
! Of Tmutorokan!
Through
Pathless lands
Igor’s host
Sped on,
Towards
The mighty
River Don. - 30. From Polovets
Carts
At night
Cries rose:
! Tell all tribes,»
Cried the Swans,
a: «Our foes
Are leading
Their forces on
Towards
The river Don! - 31. Already
Fate
Feeds them
Such fearful
Woe…
.
Bird-tribes
a With beating
Hoof-beats go,
Wolf-scouts
Growl threats
In wild
Ravines,
Eagles
Call
Beast-tribes
To bones
With screams!
Foxes
Yelp
At scarlet
Shields! - 32. Oh-oh-oh
You Russian
Fields!
Now behind
Fortress hills
You stand! - 33. Long
The night looms - 34. O’er the land
Sunset fires
Long since
Did wane.
Darkness
Dims the distant
Plain. - 35. Nightingales’
Trills
Are gone –
Cawing of Crows
Is done - 36. The Russians now
Are wide awake –
With scarlet
Shields
Creat
Fields
They stake.
They seek
Fresh honour
Themselves to win,
To their prince
More glory bring! - 37. At early dawn
On Friday horns
They trampled down
With utter scorn
The heathen hordes
Of the Polovets!
Eh-eh-eh!
Like arrows
Flying away
Upon the field
There whirled
Polovetsian
Lovely
Girls!
Ah-ah-ah!
With them
Their gold!
Eh-eh-eh!
And satins rolled!
Oh-oh-oh!
Rich samite
Untold! - 38. With fine caftans
And bright array,
And their cloaks
And jackets gay
They began
To bridge
The gaps
Over the marshes
And miry
Flats!
Eh! What grace!
Polovtsian
Patterns
Interlace! - 39. The crimson
Banner,
White gonfalon’s
Waft,
The crimson
Standard,
The silver
Staff –
For the bold
Son of Svyatoslav! - 40. On the field
Sleeps Oleg’s
Nest –
Braves
Of his…
Far have
They flown! - 41. They were
Not born
To stand
Offence –
From falcon,
Gerfalcon,
Nor you alone,
Black
Pagan
Raven!
Polovets host! - 42. Eh-eh-eh!
Through the land
Of wolf-packs grey
Gzak
Runs on:
For him
Konchak’
Has laid
A track
To the mighty
Don… - 43. On the
Next morn,
Early
Rising,
Blood-red
Dawn
Foretells
The day: - 44. Black
Clouds
From the sea
Come flying.
Trying
To hide
Four suns
Away!
There within
Blue
Lightnings
Play… - 45. Mighty
Thunder
Soon
Will roar!
Showers
Of arrows
Will strike
Don’s shore! - 46. Here
Will spears
Be shattered,
Here
Sharp swords
Be drawn,
Polovetsian
Helms
Be battered
On Kayala,
Near mighty
Don… - 47. Oh-oh-oh!
You Russian
Land!
Not behind
Fortress hills
You stand… - 48. Loud the
Wild winds sing –
Stribog’s
Grandsons bold –
From the sea
They fling
On Igor’s
Fighting wing,
Arrows, arrows - 49. Untold
Earth
Begins to rumble,
Rivers
Muddily flow,
Bloody dew-drops
Tumble
On the field
Below… - 50. Banners
Are proclaiming:
«Polovtsi are weP
From the Don
Now straining,
On our way
From the seal- - 51. Now beset
Complete,
Russian
Troops
Face defeat… - 52. Devil’s breed
Are these
Visible all round –
With wild cries
They seize,
Fortify
The ground!
Russian
Braves
Upon the field
Bar their way
With crimson
Shield! - 53. Fierce
Buffalo-bull
At bay,
Vsyevolod,
You go.
Stand amid
The fray,
Shower
Shafts
On the foe!
On their helms
Around
Punishing swords
Resound! - 54. Where you,
O Bull,
Have cantered,
Where your
Golden
Helm
Gleams yet,
There
Around
Lie scattered
Heathen
Heads
OfPolovets. - 55. Hewn off
By tempered
Blades,
Avar helms
Lie around.
Struck by
Strong arms
Of braves,
At Buffalo’s
Shoulder found;
Vsyevolod
Stands his ground! - 56. Shedding
Wounds
Brothers,
On byways there,
Forgetting
Honour
And e’en!!
His life,
His city,
Chernigov so dear,
His sire’s
Gold
Throne,
His beloved
Wife!
Eh-eh-eh!
Dear as day,
Gleb’s
Charming
Daughter,
With
Winsome way! - 57. Gone are
Lost times
Of Troyan.
Yaroslav’s
Years
Are past.
Then Oleg
Campaigns began,
That son
Of Svyatoslav… - 58. What
A one
Was Oleg!
Feuds
He forged
With his sword,
And sowed
Arrows thick
Here on earth –
A horde! - 59. To his
Golden stirrup
He sprang
In the city
Of Tmutorokan. - 60. That very
Jangle
Then born
Was heard
By the great
Yaroslav,
The son of
Old Vsyevolod. - 61. In Vladimir
Every
Morn
Folk stopped
Their ears,
And in Chernigov. - 62. Then Boris,
Vyacheslav’s son,
By Vainglory
To court
Was led!
And when her
Judgment was done,
On Cain’s green
Shroud
He lay spread…
For his crime
Against Oleg,
..A brave
Prince,
Young
And bold… - 63. From Kayala,
That
Same stream,
Svyatopolk
Once rocked
His dead sire,
Two
Hungarian
Pacers
Between,
To Kiev –
St. Sophia’s
Spire… - 64. Then
In Cleg’s
Young days, «O
That Son of WoeT-C
Had sown
Internecine frays,
Speedily overgrown)
Then perished
The very life
Of Dazhbog’s
Grandsons so„.
Through the princes’
Feuds and force,
People’s lives
Ran
Their short course! - 65. Then
On Russian
So’d
Rarely
Ploughmen
Called,
But often
Then
Ravens
O’er
Corpses
Brawled.
Galician
People
Spoke
Their piece:
«Do you want,»
They asked,
«To fly
To the feast?..» - 66. From dawn
Until the evening,
From evening
Till the light,
Fly tempered
Arrows
Glistening,
Loud
Swords
On helmets bite.
The spiteful
Spears
Are splintering - 67. Upon the field
Unknown,
Among
Polovetsian
Hinterland
With scattered
Corpses sown…
The black soil
‘Neath the
Horses’ hooves
Is spread
With flesh
And bones…
With blood streams
Flowing in
Fields and groves…
On Russian soli - 68. What groans!
-.What is
That
Noisy rout?
…What
Rings,
…What
Puts
Me out? - 69. Prince Igor
Is turning
His troops about,
Before
The break
Of dawn…
Distressed
For his brother,
In painful doubt
For Vsyevolod
Has
Withdrawn! - 70. They fought
One day,
They fought
Another.
Then the third
Until
Full noon.
Then Igor’s
Banners
No longer fluttered… - 71. Here
Brothers
Were parted
Soon
Upon the
Swift
Kayala’s shore. - 72. Of the
Bloody wine
Tie’s still
Craved more! - 73. Here
The brave
Russians
Finished
Their feast:
Their kinsmen
Drink had given
At least…
Their heads
For then-
Russian land
Laid low… - 74. The grass
Bowed down
On every hand,
And
The trees
Bent down
To the ground
With woe… - 75. Already
So,
Brothers,
A sorry
Time
Set in.
Already
The wilderness
Covered up
Our host! - 76. Misfortune
Now arose
‘Mid Dazhbog’s
Kin-
The tribute-takers
To Troyan’s
Land
Swept in
And Sorrow
Splashed swan’s
Wings
Above
Blue seas,
By the Don,
And want
Brought
Plenteous times
Unease… - 77. In mutual feuds
The princes
Vainly
Died!
And brother
To brother
Then
Spoke out
With hate:
This here
Is mine!
That there
Is mine!»
They cried.
The princes
Out of spite
- Called small
Things great!..
And then
Among themselves
New feuds
They made! - 78. The heathens
From all parts
On every hand
Swept on
With victories
Over
Russian land… - 79. Oh-oh-oh!
Far did
The falcon
Thrust
To drive
The wild fowl
To the sea! - 80. Ah-ah-ah!
But Igor’s
Valorous host
Can never
Resurrected be! - 81. . Take them!»
Screamed
Kama,
Zhelya,
Riding
Over the
Russian plains,
Flinging
Fuming smoke afar
From their torches.- - 82. In rosy
Flames
Russian
Women
Wept and
Moaned; - 83. «Never
Shall we
Ever see
Our dear
Loved ones
More!»
They groaned,
«Not in
Thoughts
Nor
Reality…
Silver pins
And gold
Display
Will not
Fasten
Ojur fine array!» - 84. O’er them,
Brothers,
Kiev
Groaned,
Full of grief
Chernigov
Moaned
And distress
On every hand
Overflowed
The Russian land… - 85. Sorrow
Poured out
On the plain
Filled our
Russia with
Anguished pain. - 86. Meanwhile princes
In war-like mood
Between themselves
Forged many
Afoul
Meanwhile heathens
Freeh - 87. Despoil,
Over-nuining
Our Russian
Soil:
And for tribute
Now they come –
A silver
Coin
From every home-. - 88. Those
Same two,
Let it
Be told,
Valorous
Sons of
Svyatoslav –
Igor,
Also Vsyevolod,
Now
The dissention
Woken have,
Which folk say
Was put
To sleep
By their
Father
Svyatoslav,
Terrible, mighty
Lord of Kiev. - 89. He a-thundering
On his way
Made foes tremble
With awesome words.
With his warriors,
So they say,
With their
Stout steel
Spears and swords
They attacked
Polovtsian
Soil!
Trampled down
The gullies
And hills.
Set the rivers
And lakes
A-boil!
Dried streams
And marshes
Sound pagans
, Still…
Kobyak, then
From the sea-swept
Coast,
From the iron
Polovtsian
Host,
Swift as a
Whirlwind
They stole
Him away!
Kobyak
Fell
Captive,
On display
In Kiev,
In Svyatoslav’s
Great hall! - 90. Now
The Germans,
Venetians all,
Now
The Moravian
And the Greek
With high
Praise of
Svyatoslav speak.
They blame
Prince Igor
Out of hand,
That he plunged
The fat
Of the land
In the Kayala’s
Watery depths –
In the rivers
Of Polovets
Scatted
The Russian
Gold around… - 91. There
Prince
Igor
His golden
Saddle quit,
In the seat
Of a nomad
Did he sit… - 92. Gloom
Grew deep
In cities
All around.
Gaiety
Fading everywhere
Was round. - 93. But Svyatoslav
Has seen
A troublous
Dream… - 94. «In Kiev
Cm the hills
Last night»,
He said,
«At eve
They wound
Me
In a shroud
Of black,
And lay me
On yew branches
For my bed… - 95. They poured
Me
Sky-blue
Wine
With bitter
Wrack,
From empty
Heathen
Quivers
For me - 96. They spread
Large
Pearls
Upon
My breast, - 97. And
Pampered
Me..
Already beams
In gilt-roofed
Hall o’erhead
Lacked their
Main girder
Carved
Resplendently-. - 98. All through
The night
From eve
The blue-grey
Crows
Were croaking - 99. By Plesensk,
Enraging sore
The Kievan thickets
And tender
Undergrowth.
I couldnot
Drive them
To the
Blue
Sea shore.-» - 100. Then
The boyars
To the prince
Replied: - 101. «Now
Your mind,
O Prince,
Is full
Of woe. - 102. For
Two
Falcons
Have flown off
From your side,
From your
Golden
Throne
They wished
Togo,
-For to seek
The city
Tmutorokan,
Or to drink
A helmetful
From the Don…
Now those falcon’s
Wings are cupped
In span
By the heathen
With their
Sabres long!
Now those
Falcons’ feet
Are
Shackled
In steel…» - 103. And upon
The third
Day
Darkness
Fell:
Two
Suns
Dimmed,
Two
Crimson
Columns
Died!
With them
Two young
i, Crescent
Moons
As well:
Oleg
And
Svyatoslav
Were drowned
In night - 104. On the
Kayala…
Dark
O’erwhelmed
The light!»
Russian lands - 105. Already
Are overwhelmed
By the heathen
Hosts of Polovtsi,
As by packs
Of leopards’
Whining whelps!
We are
Drowning
In the
Deadly sea!
Now to Khans
We pay
With bulls
Forsooth! - 106. Now has
Risen
The praise of
Shame uncouth! - 107. Now
Docs
Naked need
Free burst forth! - 108. Now
Do
Devilish scouts
Loom on earth! - 109. Now
The Gothic
Fair-haired
Maidens sing
On the
Blue sea
Shores
Rejoicing thus,
And with
Our good
Russian gold
They ring,
Telling of
The times of
Butchered Bus,
Nursing thoughts
Of vengeance
For Sharokan! - 110. But we
Thirst
For the feast,
Your
Fighting-men! - 111. Then
Great
Svyatoslav
Let fall
Words
Of gold
Mixed up
With tears: - 112. «Oh,
My nephews,»
Did he call,
«Eh!
Igor,
Eh!
You Vsyevolod,
I fear–
You
Too soon
Began
The fight
‘Gainst the
Polovetsian land,
With your swords
Began to smite,
Seeking fame
For yourselves
You planned!
But
No honour
Did you gain!
Not
With honour
Spilled
Heathen
Blood! - 113. Your
Brave
Hearts
Of oath
Are framed,
Tempered well
With
Daring
Mood… - 114. Have you
Done this
For my
Silvery
Hair? - 115. No more
Seel
The power
You have,
My brave
Brother,
With warriors
There,
Rich. id
Mignly
Yaroslav,
With your boyars
Of Chernigov,
With your chiefs,
And
With Tatrans,
And
WithShelbirs,
And
With Revugs,
And
With Topchaks,
mh
And
WithOlbers.
These
And
Those –
No shields,
But knives
In top boots –
Their foes
O’ercame,
With resounding
Battle-cries,
Ringing with their
Forebears’ name! - 116. But you said:
«We’ll
Dare
Alone!
Coming glory
We shall steal,
And past glory–
Not our own –
We shall
Share that
Fame as well!» - 117. What then,
Brothers,
Is the wonder?
Can the old
Grow young belikes? - 118. If
Some falkon,
Some great hunter,
Soars on high,
And wild
Fowl
Strikes –
Still, he lets
None harm
His
Nest! - 119. But this
Evil,
Princes mine,
Gives my
Body and soul
No rest!
Lacking help, - 120. What
A life
Is mine!..» - 121. There
In Rome the
Folk cry out
Under Polovetsian
Swords,
a– Wounded
Vladimir
Moans in doubt: - 122. «Woe to
Gleb’s son
From these
Hordes!» - 123. Eh,
You great
Prince
Vsyevolod!
Think you not
To fly
From afar,
And your father’s
Gold throne,
God wot,
Guard from those
Now making war? - 124. You
Could splash
All Volga dry
With your hosts
Of warriors’ oars.
You
Could even
Drink Don dry
From those warrior
Helms of yours! - 125. Oh!
Were you
But here
With your men,
A plague
Would you be
To Nogaitsi then:
You could
At nomads
Around Ryazan
Upon the land, - 126. Each fighting man,
Stretch living ranks,
Fling
Flying
Spears –
You boldest
Sons of Gleb –
No fears! - 127. Oh, oh
You Rurik,
Furious,
Bold!
Eh, eh
You David,
Brother good!
Were they not
Your helms
Of gold,
Swimming in seas
Of enemy blood? - 128. Are they
Not yours –
Those warriors brave
Who roar
Like bulls
When wounded sore
By furious blows
From tempered blades
Upon some unknown
Field or shore? - 129. Step you
In golden
Stirrups,
Good my lords,
And take revenge
For wrongs
Now going on,
And stand
For Russian land
Against these hordes.
Avenge the wounds
Of bold
Igor,
Svyatoslav’s son! - 130. Eight-witted
Galician,
Aye,
Yaroslav,
Aye-aye-aye!
On high
You sit
Upon your
Wrought-gold
Throne!
With iron hosts
You prop
Hungarian
Heights,
And to
There king
Have blocked
The passes
Known.
Upon the Danube
You locked
The double-door,
And hurled
Your heavy host
Among
High clouds!
Sitting as judge
As far as
Danube’s shore… - 131. Your thunder
Spreads
Through many
A land about!
You open up
The Kiev gates,
And from
Your father’s
Golden throne
You shoot at
Sultans
And at sheiks»
Beyond dominions
All your own! - 132. Then shoot
Konchak instead,
My noble lord,
And let that
Gadding heathen’s
Day be done…
And stand
For Russian land
Against his hordes.
Avenge the wounds
Of bold Igor,
Svyatoslav’s son! - 133. You too,
Owild
Roman,’
Eh-eh-eh!
And you,
Brave
Mstislav,
Aye-aye-aye!
Boldest notions
Bear your
Minds away
To great daring
Deeds
And actions
High! - 134. Furious,
Up you soar
To seek
Your prey,
Like a falcon
Wings spread wide,
On the wind,
Wishing
With fury
To conquer
Foes in the
Fray. - 135. With
Such iron
Panzers
Underpinned!
om . Battered
By Latin forts,
Host’s Earth
Gave
Way,
And
Many a
Land:
TheKhinov,
TheLitva,
Yatvyazi,
The Deremela,
Eh!..
Polovtsi
Their
Spears
In the earth
Stuck far,
Bowed
Their heads
Beneath
Steel sword-blades– - 136. Ah-h-h
Now
For
Prince Igor
The sun’s
Bright light
Has dimmed!
And from
A tree
Not sick
Leaves
FcU Ifi
Like ram!± - 137. And towns
On the Ross
And on
Sula
Foes
Have claimed.-
But
Igor’s
Valorous
Host
Won’t rise again! - 138. Don
Calls you,
Prince,
And to all
Others cries:
«To Victory!
Princes,
Now arise!» - 139. Sons of Oleg!
Princes bold,
Fly you timely
To fight
! In the fray? - 140. Princes Ingvar
And
Vsyevolod –
Three
Sons of
Mstislav–
Away!
Six-winged cherubs
Of no bad
Nest!
Victors o’er chance
- Did you
Take
Power
Here?.. - 141. Wherefore
Your
Golden
Helm
And crest…
Wherefore
Your Polish
Shield
And spear? - 142. Bar the gate
To the open
Plain
With keen arrows
Of steel,
Each one.
Guard our
Russian land
Again,
Avenge
Wounded Igor,
Svyatoslav’s son! - 143. Now
The Sula
No longer
Flows
To Pereslavl
In silver
Streams…
And the
Dvina
Through
Marshes
Goes,
To dread
Polotsk,
To heathen
Screams… - 144. Singly
Vasilko’s
Son,
Izyaslav,
Clanged
Upon
Latvian
Helms
With
His
Sword.
Frayed
The fame
Of his
Grandsire
Vsyeslav.
Lay
‘Neath
Red shield
On the
Blood-stained
Sward,
Cut down by
A Latvian
Blade… - 145. There he wished
For his
Dying bed… - 146. ’Your
Warriors
Meat
For wild beasts
Have made,
And sleep
‘Neath
The wings
Of crows!» - 147. One said.
No
Brothers
There –
Brachislav,
Vsyevolod –
Alone
He lost
The pearl
Of his soul.
From his
Brave body
It went
To God
Through the
Collar of gold
On his tunic
Stole… - 148. Now voices
Are quiet,
No gay words
Fall.
The trumpets
Travail
In Gorodno - 149. Oh!
Yaroslav,
Grandsons
Of Vseslav
All –
Sheathe
Your
Shamed
Swords,
Your
Banners
Lay
Low! - 150. You
Have sprung
Far
From your
Forefathers
Fame. - 151. By
Your
Feuds
You let
Heathens
Through,
Into our
Russian land
They came –
Into the life
Of Vsyeslav too! - 152. Your feuds
Brought violence
To hand
From the
Polovetsian
Land…
It was
Troyan’s
Seventh age. - 153. Vsyeslav
Saw
A glorious
Chance –
For full
Victory
His passion
Raged - 154. With great cunning
Took horse
At once –
Off
He hied
To Kiev
Hence,
Touched
Its golden
Throne
With his
Spear! - 155. Trought the land
Of Wild Beasts
He galloped
Thence –
Said:
«From Byelgorod
I!»
At the midnight
Hour-
Draped
In blue mists - 156. The morning
Arose
With winds –
The gates
Of Novgorod,
Battered,
Aside hurled he,
Shattered
Yaroslav’s famous
Name to bits! - 157. Rode through
Lands of Wolves
To the Nyemiga
From Dudutki…
…On Nyemiga
Like sheaves
Hewn heads
Were strown.
Threshers thrashed
With flails
Of punishing steel.
On the threshing
Floor were lives
Laid down,
Souls
Were winnowed
Well…
More befitting seed
Was then
Not sown - 158. On the river
Nyemiga’s
Bloody banks,
Which were strown
With warriors’
Flesh and bone –
Russia’s
Bravest sons,
Her foremost ranks. - 159. Vsyeslav
The prince
Judged people
Too…
With princes
In cities
Order made!
He himself
At midnight flew
On wolves’land
To scour
The glade.
From Kiev
Ere cock-crow
He sped
Into distant
Tmutorokan:
And before
Great god Khors
Ahead
On the land of Wolves
‘Cross his path
He ran! - 160. For him
In Polotsk
Early matins
Rang,
On St. Sophia’s
Booming
Bells!
But he
In Kiev
Heard
What they
Sang… - 161. Though the soul
Of a seer
In his brave
Frame dwelt,
Still often
Misfortune
Upon him fell! - 162. To him
Did seer Boyan
The wise
First time
Sing his song
To tell
Truth with meaning
In this guise: - 163. «Neither cunning,
Nor crafty way,
Nor curious wisdom,
With crafty play
Shall ever escape
God’s
Judgment Day!» - 164. Oh!
They will moan,
Our Russian
Lands,
Remembering all
Those first hard
Years,
And those
First princes’ - 165. Heavy hands!
That
Old
Vladimir,
It appears,
None could
Nail fast
To Kiev’s
Hills! - 166. Now here
His banners
Has
Rurik
- Raised,
With David’s
Stars
High heaven fills!
Thus these
Leaders
Plough
Different
Ways!.. - 167. On the Danube
Spears sing
Crazed!! - 168. .Yaroslavna’s
Voice
Is heard…
Like some lonely
Cuckoo-bird
In the early
Morn she sighs: - 169. I shall fly
Like a cuckoo,»
She cries,
«Down the river
Danube free, - 170. My dear love
To see…
shall soak
My arrow-shaped
Sleeve
In Kayala’s
Cooling stream, - 171. I shall wipe
Wounds
Bleeding
Fresh
On my Prince’s
Hardy
Flesh… - 172. Yaroslavna
Risen early
Wails
Upon Putivl
Walls,
Laments and
Weeps: - 173. «Oh-oh-oh,
You wind!
Eh-eh-eh,
You sails!
Why, my Lord,
Aye-aye-aye,
Blast
With
Powerful
Sweeps? - 174. Why hurl
Heathen
Arrows
With your
Wild wings
Upon my
Well-beloved
Prince’s
Host?.. - 175. Do they not
Suffice for you
Such things
As blowing
Woe
‘Neath the clouds
On little boats,
And rocking them
Upon the
Green-blue sea? - 176. Why then,
Lord, eh-eh,
Will you say
At last,
Did you bias
My joy, like
The feather-grass?» - 177. Yaroslavna
Risen early
Wails
Upon Putivl
Walls,
Laments
And weeps: - 178. «Oh-oh-oh,
You Dnieper!
So swift
You flow!
You bored,
I see,
Through
Mountains
Free,
Through
Stones and soil
Of Poloveta - 179. You rocked
I see,
On wild wwes
Free
Svyatoslav’s
Ships
To Kobyak’s
Tents!
So rock
And sway, - 180. Eh-eh-eh,
My loved one
Back to me
Today!
So that
I send
To him
No tears
At early morn
Upon the sea!» - 181. Yaroslavna
Risen early
Wails
Upon Putivl
Walls,
Laments
And weeps: - 182. «Bright Sun there,
Oh,
Thrice-bright
Sun!
To all
So warming
Up on high! - 183. So lovely, charming
To everyone!
Then why,
Eh, mighty Lord
Pray why,
Did you then
Spread your
Burning rays
Upon my
Beloved prince’s
Host?
Upon the shadeless
Waterless waste
With thirst
You withered
All
Their bows.
Their quivers
Tight
With woes
You closed…» - 184. The sea
Is splashing
Its midnight spray
By mortal
Mist-clouds
Spanned…
And
See:
To Prince Igor
God
Shows
The way
To escape
Polovetsian
Land,
And to return
To Russia again,
To his father’s
Throne
Of gold. - 185. The evening’s glow
Is on
The wane…
Is Igor
Asleep?
Igor
Wakes
Bold!
Then Igor
Measures
In thought
The plain:
From the river
Don, so great,
To lesser Donets - 186. One horse
Might strain!
Friend Vlur
At midnight late,
Then softly
Whistled
Across the stream,
And told
Prince Igor:
«Look!
A captive
You must
Not be –
Don’t dream!» - 187. The earth then
Rumbled
And shook.
The grasses
Sofly swayed
And swished –
The Polovtsi
Scouts were astir! - 188. But Igor?
The Prince
Like a weasel
Dashed
To the rushes
Waving there,
Like a fine
White drake
To the water
He flew,
And leaped
On his light-foot
Mare! - 189. And
Away he whisked!
That charger too,
In the Wolves’
Land
They took
From him there! - 190. And now
They flee
To Donets free,
To backwaters
Fresh and fair!
He flew
Like
A falcon
Beneath the haze,
And struck down
Swans and geese
For breakfast,
And dinner,
And supper
Those days… - 191. And if
Through
Falcons’ land
He flees,
Then Vlur
Through Wolves» land
Speeds on too,
Shaking the blades
Of glass,
And sprinkling
All around
Cold dew:
Thus they
Winded
Swift
Steeds
At last… - 192. см. фрагмент 193
- 193. «O Prince Igor,’
Says
Donets,
«No small
Glory
Now
Have you!
But Konchak has
Great distress!
While our Russian
Land anew
Now has great
Enjoyment too!»
. - 194. см. фрагмент 195
- 195. «O Donets,»
Prince Igor
Says!
«No small
Praises
Now Have you!
You have rocked
Upon your breast
An escaping
Prince, it’s true,
And for him
Have spread
Green
Grass
There upon
Your silver
Shores. - 196. Draped
Him
In warm robes
Of dark,
Shaded
By green trees
Of yours.
Guarding bravely
Him you saved
With the drakes
Upon your streams,
With the gulls
Upon your wave,
With black hawks
Upon the breeze. - 197. No such
Waters,»
Then said he,
«Has the lean
And mean Strugna!
Though it
Swallows up,
Maybe,
Heathen
Streams
And boats, ah-ah!
Where
Its estuary
Grows wide…
There
Prince
Rostislav
Was drowned-.
On the Dnieper’s
Shady side
Weeps - 198. His mother
For him,
Reknowned…
For the young
Prince Rostislav - 199. All the flowers
Pitiful fade,
And the trees
Such grief
They have,
Bend to earth
Above
His grave…» - 200. There
No chattering
Magpies woke
All along
Prince Igor’s track,
And the ravens
Did not croak –
Here comes Gzak,
With him Konchak! - 201. Magpies
Did not chatter
Nor call,
And the jackdaws
All were still, - 202. Only
The grass-snakes
Crept
And crawled…
Only
The woodpeckers
Tapped
At will,
Told the river’s
Direction right,
While gay trills
Of the nightingale
Still foretell
The coming light –
Above the darkness
Dawn breaks bright! - 203. Then did
Gzak
Say
To Konchak: - 204. «See,
The falcon
Flies
To its
Nest!
Let us keep
Upon his track,
Shoot
His fledgling –
Gilt arrows,
Our best!» - 205. Then
Konchak
To Gzak
Replied: - 206. «When the falcon
Flies
To its nest
Let’s snare
His fledgling
With a bride –
A fair
Young maiden –
That were best!»
- . Then answered - 207. Gzak again
Unto Konchak: - 208. «If
We snare
The
Fledgling
With
Fine
Fair
Maid,
We
Shall
Then
Keep
Neither,
Alas!
And
Alack!
Even
The birds
, Will peck us
In Polovets
Glade!..» - 209. Thus spoke
Khodin
And bold Boyan –
Prince Svyatoslav’s
Own bards,
Of ancient
Days of
Yaroslav,
Of Oleg
Who ruled Kogan: - 210. «Though
Hard it is
For you,
The head,
To fly
From the neck,»
They said,
«Harder for you,
The body too,
To live
Without the head!»
And woe also
To Russian
Land,
Where Prince Igor’s
Not at hand! - 211. The Sun
Is shining
In the sky!
Prince Igor
In Russian lands
Stands
High! - 212. They sing
Of slaughter now
On Danube’s shore…
And voices
Cross
The sea
To Kiev
Once more… - 213. Prince Igor
Rides
Through
Borichov –
To the
Mother of God
In Pirogoshch. - 214. The land cries,
Glad of voice.
The cities,
All rejoice! - 215. We have
Praised
The princes
Of old,
Now let’s praise
Young princes
Bold! - 216. Glory
To Igor,
Svyatoslav’s son!
To the
Buffalo-bull –
To Vsyevolod!
To young Vladimir,
Prince Igor»s son!
All praise
To princes!
To every one!
To men-at-arms – - 217. We glorify them!
Let us fight
For Christ
Against heathens
Then! - 218. All praise
To princes
To every one!
All glory
To men-at-arms!
Amen!
The end.
Ссылка
Если вы используете корпус в научной работе, пожалуйста, сошлитесь на эту публикацию:
Орехов Б. В. Параллельный корпус переводов «Слова о полку Игореве»: итоги и перспективы // Национальный корпус русского языка: 2006—2008. Новые результаты и перспективы. — СПб.: Нестор-История, 2009. — С. 462—473.