TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL RUSSIAN, BY THOMAS B. SHAW, B.A. OF
CAMBRIDGE, ADJUNCT PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH LITERATURE IN THE IMPERIAL
ALEXANDER LYCEUM, TRANSLATOR OF "THE HERETIC," &C. &C.
We trust our readers will not blame us for the slightness of
construction and unimportant subjects of many of the minor pieces which
we have admitted into our present selection from Pushkin's lyrical
productions. It was our object to give the English reader, as far as
possible, a fair and just notion of the poet's peculiar turn of thought
and style of expression; and to do this completely, it appeared to us
indispensable to avoid confining our choice--however natural it might
have seemed, and however great the temptation to do so--to the more
ambitious and elaborate efforts of his genius. The true principles of
criticism have long ago established the doctrine, that the composition
of a beautiful song, or even of a perfect epigram, deserves to be
considered as difficult a task, and as rare an achievement, as the
production of an ode or of an elegy; and though it may be objected that,
for the purposes of _translation_, the song is generally much more
ungrateful than the more imposing production, yet we could not consider
ourselves as fulfilling our promise, (of holding up to our countrymen a
faithful mirror of Pushkin's poetry,) had we omitted to attempt versions
of the slighter and more delicate products of his poesy. It is true
that, in passing through the deteriorating process of translation into
another language, the lighter works suffer most, and are more likely to
lose that exquisite delicacy of expression, and that transparent
colouring of thought, which is the more peculiar merit of the song or
the fugitive poem--these tender blossoms run much more risk of losing,
in short, their finer and more evanescent aroma, than the more gorgeous
flowers of the tropical regions of poetical imagining; but at the same
time it must be remarked, that the danger in such experiments is not on
the side of the _author_, but wholly on that of the _translator_. That
we have determined--rashly, perhaps--to encounter this danger, must be
our apology for having introduced into our collection many of the
shorter and slighter pieces which will be found in these pages, and,
among them, the specimen which we are now about to present.
"ALAS FOR HER! WHY IS SHE SHINING?"
Alas for her! why is she shining
In soft and momentary bloom?
Yet all the while in secret pining
'Mid youth's gay pride and first perfume ...
She fades! To her it is not given
Long o'er life's paths in joy to roam,
Or long to make an earthly heaven
In the calm precincts of her home;
Our daily converse to enlighten
With playful sense, with charming wile,
The sufferer's woe-worn brow to brighten
With the reflection of her smile.
Now that black thoughts around me darken,
I veil my grief with steady will,
To her sweet voice I haste to hearken,--
To hearken: and to gaze my fill.
I gaze, I hearken yet, and never
Shall voice or form from me depart;
Nought but our parting hour can ever
Wake fear or anguish in my heart.
* * * * *
In the following spirited little piece Pushkin has commemorated an
incident which occurred in the reign of Peter the Great, and which is
probably sufficiently familiar to the readers of Russian history, to
render unnecessary a more than passing allusion to the circumstance.
Among the thousand traits of grandeur recorded of the Hero-Tsar, there
are few more affecting and sublime than that commemorated in the
anecdote of his indulgence to Menstchikoff, who had betrayed his
master's confidence, and committed various acts of peculation and
oppression. Peter pardoned his unfaithful but repentant minister, and
celebrated this act of generous clemency by a magnificent banquet, at
which he exhibited to his admiral every testimony of renewed confidence
and affection. This banquet is the subject of the following lines, in
which all the allusions are probably familiar to our readers, not
excepting the mention made of the imposing ceremony spoken of in the
third stanza; that is to say, the grand review of the infant Russian
fleet, at which the Emperor assisted in person, and in the rank of
Vice-Admiral. The whole squadron--recently created by the genius and
wisdom of the Prince, and freshly covered with naval glory, till then
unknown in Russia--was anchored in the Neva, and along its line slowly
passed, under a general salute of cannon, and accompanied by the
acclamations of the crews of the men-of-war, the old pleasure-boat, the
"baubling shallop," which had first suggested to Peter's mind the idea
and the possibility of giving Russia a navy. This small vessel, still
most religiously preserved in the fortress, and affectionately called by
the Russians the "Grandfather" of their navy, had been constructed for
the amusement of the Tsar Alexei, by Brandt, a Dutch shipbuilder, who
had visited Moscow during the reign of that prince--the father of the
great regenerator of Russia. The vessel, a small sloop rigged in the
Dutch manner, had remained neglected on the lake of Pereslav-Zalevskii
(in the province of Vladimir) till it was remarked by Peter, who, from
seeing it, not only conceived the idea of creating a navy, but made it
the means of acquiring for himself the first rudiments of practical
seamanship. As _a ship_ in the Russian language is a _masculine_
substantive, the familiar title given to this immortal little vessel is
"grandfather," or "grandsire," a word of which we have thought it
necessary to transpose the gender, in obedience to that poetical and
striking idiom in our tongue, by which a ship always rigorously
appertains to the gentler and lovelier sex. In our version, therefore,
the "grandsire" becomes--we trust without any loss of dignity or
interest--the "grandame" of the Russian navy:--