Wondrous Moment: Selected Poetry

by Alexander Pushkin, Andrey Kneller (translator)

Alexander Pushkin (June 6, 1799 - February 10, 1837), is widely considered to be Russia's greatest writer.  He is credited with enhancing the Russian lexicon and introducing a language that, while bridging Romanticism with Realism, would become a foundation for Russian modern literature. His poetry, marked by innovative rhymes and rhythms, while, at the same time, maintaining natural tone and diction, has a very unique and distinct sound that is drastically different from anything written before him. His novel in verse, Eugene Onegin, has been recognized all over the world and translated into 86 languages, including at least 42 translations into English. This small, dual-language collection is an assortment of some of his best known poetry with some of the lesser known works.

Genres: Poetry, Russia, Classics, Russian Literature

88 pages, Paperback

Published October 20, 2008

About the author

Works of Russian writer Aleksandr Sergeyevich Pushkin include the verse novel Eugene Onegin (1831), the play Boris Godunov (1831), and many narrative and lyrical poems and short stories.

See also:
Russian: Александр Сергеевич Пушкин
French: Alexandre Pouchkine
Norwegian: Aleksander Pusjkin
Spanish:Aleksandr Pushkin

People consider this author the greatest poet and the founder of modern literature. Pushkin pioneered the use of vernacular speech in his poems, creating a style of storytelling—mixing drama, romance, and satire—associated ever with greatly influential later literature.

Pushkin published his first poem at the age of 15 years in 1814, and the literary establishment widely recognized him before the time of his graduation from the imperial lyceum in Tsarskoe Selo. Social reform gradually committed Pushkin, who emerged as a spokesman for literary radicals and in the early 1820s clashed with the government, which sent him into exile in southern Russia. Under the strict surveillance of government censors and unable to travel or publish at will, he wrote his most famous drama but ably published it not until years later. People published his verse serially from 1825 to 1832.

Pushkin and his wife Natalya Goncharova, whom he married in 1831, later became regulars of court society. In 1837, while falling into ever greater debt amidst rumors that his wife started conducting a scandalous affair, Pushkin challenged her alleged lover, Georges d'Anthès, to a duel. Pushkin was mortally wounded and died two days later.

Because of his liberal political views and influence on generations of Russian rebels, Pushkin was portrayed by Bolsheviks as an opponent to bourgeois literature and culture and a predecessor of Soviet literature and poetry. Tsarskoe Selo was renamed after him.

Reviews

[Flo · Rating 5 out of 5]

I can give you my loneliness, my darkness, the hunger of my heart; I am trying to bribe you with uncertainty, with danger, with defeat.
JLB, "Two English Poems"

Perhaps, one day, I'll learn to let you go.
Alexander Pushkin (1824)

I left a world of labyrinths, mirrors and spirals of time to visit the lands of the ultimate romantic poet. Turbulent waves of indomitable emotions reach this shore and leave me immersed in deep thought. A wandering shadow that carries the weight of praise. A benevolent will-o'-the-wisp that leads the reader to the safe path towards his art. Choose any poem and you will find him. Vocalize any verse and you will become a fortunate witness of his mind. The epitome of lyricism.
The essence of Russian poetry.

My days still linger, slow and rough,
Each moment multiplies the sadness
Within the heart of hapless love
And drives my yearning into madness...
(A Wish, 1816)

Love found, love lost. Unknown. A one-sided mourning, naturally. A profound sense of melancholy even in blissful times. So much yearning. So much existence. A fervent desire of holding on to a life that still leaves him submerged in gloom.

But, o my friends, I do not want to leave!
I want to be alive, to think and grieve.
And I predict that I will find some pleasure
Amidst anxiety, amidst the stress and pressure.
(Elegy)

Yet, the question that relentlessly lingers inside his mind when humanity becomes unbearable.

In sadness, lonesome, I await:
How far away is my demise?
(1821)

A most virtuous celebration to the poet's nature. Nostalgia emerges through the mist of lost years with an enchanting, rhythmic cadence that escapes any reasoning.
Time that will never return. Time wasted with unsaid words, hidden smiles, avoided glances; pride. On the contrary, Pushkin speaks. He reveals. There is a sincerity in his writing that leaves him on the verge of vulnerability. Inevitable. Humane. Regretful.

Don't ask me why, alone in dismal thought,
In times of mirth, I'm often filled with strife,
And why my wearied gaze is so distraught,
And why I don't enjoy the dream of life...
(To ***, 1817)

But people are fallible. And there was a time when fear brought silence.

That I am plagued with love:
Without you near – I'm feeling bored;
With you – I feel estranged now;
But I can't speak a single word.
(Confession)

Infinite Pushkin. His poetry. His stories. The works of a gifted mind.
Nothing compares to the wondrous moment when you find yourself in someone else's words.

Like I have said before, there is also an optimistic sunbeam illuminating some of his poems. Frail but present. He embodies a distressing dichotomy inherent to human nature. Existence and weariness. A hunger of living. An impatient wait.

These are not just poems about love (which, by the way, must have a certain language for me to actually be able to enjoy them), but about everything that constitutes a life. A life made of years, epochs, moments. Moments of joy, of grief, of doubt. Moments wanting to be. Those brief moments of ours in a place a little larger than an entire universe.



Dec 10, 15

* Also on my blog.
** This book also includes Pushkin's work in his original language. I spent some quality time not just reading, but looking for meanings, translations, comparisons. With such insufficient tools I tried to observe the remaining essence that deeply wants to prevail over the limits of the translating process but usually does not succeed. In this case, the translator gave shape to Pushkin's poetry maintaining rimes and forms but without taking too many liberties that would jeopardize this author's exquisite voice. The meaning was there, the poetic forms were there. A fine translation that flows more gracefully than the previous one I've read.

[Steven Godin · Rating 4 out of 5]

A fine collection. It's Puskin. Say no more.

[Angela Boord · Rating 5 out of 5]

I enjoyed this collection of Pushkin's poetry but I have a feeling I am missing a lot by reading it in translation. I did wish that his fairy tales were included in this collection.

[☾ Sarah ⋆⁺₊✧]

is it just me or was this rlly basic. like some lines were cute but i was underwhelmed. cuz like i know he can do better, i've read eugene onegin. maybe it's the translation or the selections?

[Alex · Rating 5 out of 5]

Late silence of dark night, disturbed by me in passion sweet surrender...
My voice, to you directed, languid is, while being both soft and tender.

My words of poetry to you - they flow babbling, into song they meld in my poetic candor.
Being full of love to you, as passion streams the flow of my words - to you from me, - by you enchanted sender.

In darkness of the room I see your shining eye, they smile to me, revealing their splendor.
Sad candle burns near my bed - its sparks sometimes your lovely image render.
...
...
And suddenly the sounds of your voice I hear in love's magic curse:
"My friend, my sweet, sweet friend - love you, I'm yours, I'm yours...


© Copyright: Принцалександр, 2018
Свидетельство о публикации №118051809040

[Stefani Akins · Rating 3 out of 5]

Sadly, my Russian has deteriorated to the point where I can no longer read Pushkin's poetry in the original language, but the translations seem carefully and faithfully done. Unfortunately, a lot of the love poems seem sappy and clichéd. Still, Pushkin is accessible even to those who are just beginning to discover poetry, and this small collection contains a few wonderful surprises.

[David Anthony Sam · Rating 2 out of 5]

Again, not being able to read the Russian, I can only go by the translation--the poetry seems very much of its time, somewhat pedestrian Romantic verse. There is little in the way of striking imagery or new eyes on the world. The collection is a decent selection of Pushkin's love and political poetry.

[Brenna · Rating 3 out of 5]

Ben says it’s pointless to pad out my books just to hit a silly goodreads challenge but What Does He Know

These were... fine

[Samira · Rating 5 out of 5]

Stunning! So many of the lines had me I'm a chokehold. 🥰

'To whom do you submit your soul's affection.'

'Don't ask me why my happiness has perished.'

'I've lived to see desire finish.'