Archive for Oktober 10th, 2007
‘n Gedig, sommer net

Marina Tsvetayeva is in 1892 in Moskou gebore. In 1910 verskyn haar eerste digbundel. Tydens die groot hongersnood plaas sy een van haar dogters in ‘n weeshuis omdat sy nie meer vir hulle kon sorg nie. In 1920 sterf die kind in die weeshuis weens wanvoeding.
Stalin laaik haar niks. Na die rewolusie verlaat sy Rusland in 1922. Eers bly sy in Praag, later in Berlyn en ook Parys. Sy keer terug na Rusland in 1939 om haar by haar man aan te sluit. Net nadat sy teruggekeer het, word haar man vermoor, die Tweede Wêreldoorlog breek uit, en sy moet na Yelabuga vlug.
In 1941, alleen in Yelabuga en werkloos, hang sy haarself.
3 (Poems for Blok)
You are going west of the sun now.
You will see there evening light.
You are going west of the sun and
snow will cover up your tracks.
Past my windows passionless
you are going in quiet snow.
Saint of God, beautiful, you
are the quiet light of my soul
but I do not long for your spirit.
Your way is indestructible.
And your hand is pale from holy
kisses, no nail of mine.
By your name I shall not call you.
My hands shall not stretch after you
to your holy waxen face I shall
only bow from afar
standing under the slow falling snow, I shall
fall to my knees in the snow.
In your holy name I shall only
kiss that evening snow
where, with majestic pace you
go by in tomb-like quiet,
the light of quiet holy glory
of it: Keeper of my soul.
** Vertaal deur Elaine Feinstein