Article cover image

Alexander Pushkin

katherine

Tour Guide, Odesa, Ukraine

| 4 mins read

Fragments of Travel Onegin.

(The translator - André Markowicz)

                              

            *

So I was a Odessite -

In the dust and the blue sky;

In Odessa; the success

Makes adventurous sailing;

There, lives only by Europe,

The south shines, vibrates and expands

Its rich barilée ardor;

This is Italian that is spoken

In the streets run the Slave

At the proud soul; Armenian,

The French, Greek, Egyptian,

The Spaniard and the heavy Moldavian

And the pirate Tripoli

Upon retirement, Morali.

               *

Toumanski knew verse sound

Paint Odessa, but our friend,

In this poem aue I love,

Had shown bias.

He landed, and poet,

Erra, armed with his glasses,

Alone on the shore; after this,

In charming verses he extolled

The parks and gardens of the city.

He did well, but, you see,

This is the bare steppe everywhere;

The young councilors their effort

Made just planted abrisseaux

A meager shade for summer.

                  *

Where was I, dear delusions? ...

In the dust, I had said;

In the mud, I could have said:

I would not have either lied,

Because for five or six weeks,

The city offered to perennial rains

Is swallowed up end to end,

Dark under mud tides.

The walls are stained; the crowd

Takes stilts to go

What once was the floor,

People and carriages run,

For drojkis, massive beef

Replaces winded horse.

                 *

But the hammer is already active

And paved armor

Will come soon cover the banks

For the city to be saved.

Yet in this humid city

There is a treacherous default;

And which, in your opinion? - It is water.

We need major projects ...

Now what? evil is not immence,

Given that the wine imported eest

No customs duty, and then summer;

Tthe sea; strike; indolence ...

Friends; what do you need?

It is a blessed country of fate.

                 *

I wake up and I above

The gunboat in the morning,

Back down the steep slope

To the sea for a swim.

Then, quickened by the stinging water,

I smoke a pipe burning

And Muslim in paradise

Drink coffee which thickens.

I walk out. Opens; helpful; 

Casino where the dealer

Scans still sleepy,

And draws noisily tables

Encor wet when two merchants

Already have their money.

                    *

And all saw; cheerful, severe,

People running in the wind,

Or busy with nothing to do

(Very busy usually).

Children of lucre and daring,

The merchant, across the square,

Go see him if heaven renvoent

His sailboat off for months.

What new goods

Are now recorded?

Is the promised wine in?

What war? of the crisis?

Where are the plague and the fire? ...

Who knows what is said.

                              *

But we whose rich recklessness

Taunting marine hazards,

We do not expect that hampers

We promised the Black Sea.

Oysters are delivered? The jubilation!

We see the youth greedy

Swigging their pearly prison

Embellished with golden lemon,

This vibrant and fat recluses.

Shouts and clatter ... The lightweight wine

As soon as the bishop is led,

Othon, jovial, comes and goes;

Time flies, heavy Account

Grows over our speech.

                *

The evening sky becomes dark blue

And the opera brings us together

Where Orpheus tames the shadows -

Sonne and radiates Rossini.

Deaf to the disdain of the problems wise,

Always new, toujoujours the mèmts,

Its sounds will spread, burn, boils,

You upset, char, nt, play;

Passionate kisses girl

While mixer, energy,

As arises the wine of Ay -

The jet; foam that sparkles ...

But what idea to compare

Wine and do-mi-fa-sol-re?

             *

And all the rest of delights?

And glasses of indiscreet?

Appointments backstage!

The primadone? And balet?

And the lodge where dazzling,

Trone young negotiating

At the languid air, indifferent,

Surrounded on soupirands blades?

She hears everything and remains deaf

For cavatinas; the sighs,

At his flatterers, its martyrs,

As for the husband, heavy breath,

Behind, he sleeps, he shouts "bravo",

Blinks, snoring again.

          *

Final - and suddenly the room

Empties; we go out in the crowd

Towards the lanterns, stars;

They shout in the street cumbersome.

The son of the happy Ausonian

Humming a cheerful aria

Reminisce a pattern;

We braillons recitative.

The night. The city sleeps, serene;

Nothing, not a breath, not a word;

Vibrant sky; in his halo,

The moon shines in the air

Lightness of whiteness ...

The sea runs its rumor ...

             *

So, I was a Odessite ...