06 October 2009

Edward Limonov, poet

The scent of autumn on the fields,
of royal British tea. It shields;
I place my hopes and dreams
on this liquid drawn from the streams.

I raise my cup and smile, thinking
I melt misfortune by drinking.
Because I know where bad luck goes.
And on my tracks, it slows.

Original version:

Осении запах и прерии
Чай из Британской империи
Я возлагаю надежды мои
На этого струя

Пью улыбаясь и думаю
Может убью я беду мою
Тем более знаю где и когда
Ко мне привязалась беда

Thanks to Tanya for help with the Russian and to Thierry Marignac for drawing my attention to the poem.

polaroid by Andrei Tarkovsky, via


  1. Beautiful translation,pal ! I wondering about mine now…
    The Insecure Translator.

  2. I stole from your translation hand and fist. Plus, since you made yours rhyme, like the original, I felt I had to make mine rhyme as well -- which was a bitch, but made it better in the end.
    That must be bullshit, though -- "the insecure translator"!!?? That's like Duran calling himself the insecure boxer.

  3. La poésie russe n'est pas un alcool,comme une trouée dans ce carnet.
    La photo de Tarkovsky, les mots russes et anglais, la sortie du sommeil et bientôt le jour qui se lève.
    Envie de films où la bande-son reprendrait les mots de Limonov, peu importe dans quelle langue.