Одно из самых известных стихотворений Александра Сергеевича Пушкина «К ***» на русском языке и в трёх переводах на английский язык.
К ***
Я помню чудное мгновенье:
Передо мной явилась ты,
Как мимолетное виденье,
Как гений чистой красоты.
В томленьях грусти безнадежной,
В тревогах шумной суеты,
Звучал мне долго голос нежный
И снились милые черты.
Шли годы. Бурь порыв мятежный
Рассеял прежние мечты,
И я забыл твой голос нежный,
Твои небесные черты.
В глуши, во мраке заточенья
Тянулись тихо дни мои
Без божества, без вдохновенья,
Без слез, без жизни, без любви.
Душе настало пробужденье:
И вот опять явилась ты,
Как мимолетное виденье,
Как гений чистой красоты.
И сердце бьется в упоенье,
И для него воскресли вновь
И божество, и вдохновенье,
И жизнь, и слезы, и любовь.
1825
Александр Пушкин (1799-1837)
To…
O wondrous moment! There before me,
A radiant, fleeting dream, you stood,
A vision fancy fashioned for me,
A glimpse of perfect womanhood.
Through all life’s sadness, all its wonted
And hopeless flurry and unrest
Your lovely face my spirit haunted,
Your tender voice my ear caressed.
Swift storms struck; o’er me wrathful breaking,
They fast dispelled the dreams of yore.
Your image blurred, my heart forsaking,
Your voice caressed my ear no more.
In cold and gloomy isolation
The years sped by, the lonely years,
’Thout deity, ’thout inspiration,
Bereft of life and love and tears.
And then — O bliss! — time’s flight defeating,
You came again and ’fore me stood,
A vision radiant and fleeting,
A glimpse of perfect womanhood.
My heart is filled with sweet elation,
Anew it craves, anew reveres,
And is awake to inspiration,
Awake to life and love and tears.
Alexander Pushkin
Translated by Irina Zheleznova
To ***
The wondrous moment of our meeting…
I well remember you appear
Before me like a vision fleeting,
A beauty’s angel pure and clear.
In hopeless ennui surrounding
The worldly bustle, to my ear
For long your tender voice kept sounding,
For long in dreams came features dear.
Time passed. Unruly storms confounded
Old dreams, and I from year to year
Forgot how tender you had sounded,
Your heavenly features once so dear.
My backwoods days dragged slow and quiet —
Dull fence around, dark vault above —
Devoid of God and uninspired,
Devoid of tears, of fire, of love.
Sleep from my soul began retreating,
And here you once again appear
Before me like a vision fleeting,
A beauty’s angel pure and clear.
In ecstasy the heart is beating,
Old joys for it anew revive;
Inspired and God-filled, it is greeting
The fire, and tears, and love alive.
Alexander Pushkin
Translated by Genia Gurarie
Романс М.И. Глинки на слова А.С. Пушкина «Я помню чудное мгновенье…» исполняет Дмитрий Хворостовский.
Анна Петровна Керн (1800-1879)
To ***
I still remember that amazing moment
You have appeared before my sight
As though a brief and fleeting omen,
Pure phantom in enchanting light.
Locked in depression’s hopeless captive,
In haste of clamorous processions,
I heard your voice— soft and attractive.
And dreamt of your beloved expressions.
Time passed. In gusts, rebellious and active,
A tempest scattered my affections
And I forgot your voice attractive,
Your sacred and divine expressions.
Detained in darkness, isolation,
My days would slowly drag in strife.
With lack of faith and inspiration,
With lack of tears, and love and life.
My soul attained its waking moment:
You re-appeared before my sight,
As though a brief and fleeting omen,
Pure phantom in enchanting light.
And now, my heart, in fascination
Beats rapidly and finds revived:
Devout faith and inspiration,
And tender tears and love and life.
Alexander Pushkin
Translated by Andrey Kneller
To ***
I remember the marvellous moment
you appeared before me,
like a transient vision,
like pure beauty’s spirit.
Lost in hopeless sadness,
lost in the loud world’s turmoil,
I heard your voice’s echo,
and often dreamed your features.
Years passed. The storm winds scattered,
with turbulent gusts, that dreaming.
I forgot your voice, its tenderness.
I forgot your lovely face.
Remote in my darkened exile,
the days dragged by so slowly,
without grace, without inspiration,
without life, without tears, without love.
Then my spirit woke
and you, you appeared again,
like a transient vision,
like pure beauty’s spirit.
And my heart beats with delight,
and ecstasy, inside me,
and grace and inspiration,
and tears, and life, and love.
Alexander Pushkin
Translated by A. S. Kline
To…
I still recall a wonder vision.
The moment you before me shone,
A fleeting Genius apparition,
A perfect beauty paragon.
Through hopeless sorrow that oppressed me,
Through life’s alarm and senseless schemes
That caring voice and soul caressed me,
And that dear face would fill my dreams.
Years passed. The stormwinds whirled against me,
Scattering former dreams of grace,
And I forgot your voice caressed me,
Forgot your beatific face.
In wastes, away…in isolation
My days dragged on through quiet years,
No sense of God…. no inspiration
No sense of life… no love… no tears.
The soul awakened to a vision.
Before me once again you shone:
A fleeting genius apparition,
A perfect beauty paragon.
The heart now bounds in exaltation.
In resurrection reappears
The sense of God… and inspiration
And sense of life… and love… and tears
Alexander Pushkin
Translated by A. Z. Foreman
