To you – crown of thorns; of roses – to your fathers
To you – an empty jug, to fathers – wine.
For their transgressions you have fallen martyr,
O the dauphine tormented at the dawn!

Not rotten fruit – a flower, unlived, fresh one,
The people's anger stomped into the mire.
All children have the same expression:
Such inexpressible and tender eyes!

You've smoked as from a pipe, the heir, the prince, with
In your curls, skullcaps of the mutineers;
With ruddy wine the pinkish lips were filthy,
Shoemaker's fist was beating the dauphine.

Where is the proud shine of centuries gloried?
Everything vanished, into dust and soil!
For all of it the little children suffered:
A baby-prince and curly-headed girl.

The final moment of the parting's here.
Hold! Someone's song! It is the angel chorus...
And you spread out the arm that grow weaker
There where there's shelter for the travelers.

On distant journey credulously departing,
You understood, O prince, wherefore we cry,
And know, as you to a dear song you slumber,
That you'll awake a monarch in the sky.

By Marina Tsvetayeva
Translated from Russian by Ilya Shambat

On Monday, September 11, 2023 at 9:49:41 PM UTC, Ilya Shambat wrote:
> To you – crown of thorns; of roses – to your fathers
> To you – an empty jug, to fathers – wine.
> For their transgressions you have fallen martyr,
> O the dauphine tormented at the dawn!
>
> Not rotten fruit – a flower, unlived, fresh one,
> The people's anger stomped into the mire.
> All children have the same expression:
> Such inexpressible and tender eyes!
>
> You've smoked as from a pipe, the heir, the prince, with
> In your curls, skullcaps of the mutineers;
> With ruddy wine the pinkish lips were filthy,
> Shoemaker's fist was beating the dauphine.
>
> Where is the proud shine of centuries gloried?
> Everything vanished, into dust and soil!
> For all of it the little children suffered:
> A baby-prince and curly-headed girl.
>
> The final moment of the parting's here.
> Hold! Someone's song! It is the angel chorus...
> And you spread out the arm that grow weaker
> There where there's shelter for the travelers.
>
> On distant journey credulously departing,
> You understood, O prince, wherefore we cry,
> And know, as you to a dear song you slumber,
> That you'll awake a monarch in the sky.
>
> By Marina Tsvetayeva
> Translated from Russian by Ilya Shambat
This poem seems to have some mixed up facts, which we attribute to Ilya Shambat's translation. Google Translate says:
"For fathers a crown of roses, for you of thorns,
For fathers - wine, for you - an empty decanter.
For their sins you became the evening sacrifice,
O martyred Dauphin at dawn!"
Note that Ilya Shambat has "Dauphine," and there was no dauphine at that time. There was just the "Dauphin" (the oldest male heir). Louis XVI's oldest child was Marie-Thérèse Charlotte, and she eventually (1824) became the Dauphine of France. She was "Madame Royale" during Louis XVI's reign.
"Not rotten fruit - lifeless-fresh flower
The people's thunderstorm trampled into the mud.
All children have the same eyes:
Inexpressibly tender eyes!"
Ilya Shambat has "All children have the same expression: Such inexpressible and tender eyes!"
This doesn't make sense, since if they have the same expression, how can they be inexpressible?"
"Crown Prince, you started smoking from a pipe,
There's a rebel cap in your curls,
Wine polluted the pink lips,
The Dauphine hit the shoemaker with his fist."
Google Translate also says "Dauphine" here, which is incorrect since the line says "his." Dauphine is female. We are not sure who is hitting whom, since the original seems to say that the "Dauphine" hit the shoemaker, but Ilya Shambat says that the shoemaker hit the "Dauphine."
"Where is the proud splendor of illustrious centuries?
Everything has disappeared, disintegrated into dust!
Little children suffered for everything:
The little prince and the girl in curls."
We like "dust" instead of Ilya Shambat's "soil." There is also no inversion in the Google Translate. Evidently both children had curls.
"But then came the last moment of separation.
Chu! Someone's song! This is how the angels sing...
And you stretched out your weakening arms
Up there, where there is shelter for wanderers."
We are not sure what "Chu" is supposed to be, but at least Google Translate gives little Louis XVII two arms. Ilya gives him only one, plus he has "arm/grow," which is not correct.
"Trustingly embarking on a long journey,
You understand, prince, why we shed tears,
And I knew, falling asleep to my native song,
That you will wake up in heaven as a king."
Ilya Shambat has inserted a "wherefore" for some reason! He also has him waking up in the sky, which is a lot different from waking up in Heaven. Sheesh.
Here is the original Russian:
Людовик XVII
Отцам из роз венец, тебе из терний,
Отцам -- вино, тебе -- пустой графин.
За их грехи ты жертвой пал вечерней,
О на заре замученный дофин!

Не сгнивший плод -- цветок неживше-свежий
Втоптала в грязь народная гроза.
У всех детей глаза одни и те же:
Невыразимо-нежные глаза!

Наследный принц, ты стал курить из трубки,
В твоих кудрях мятежников колпак,
Вином сквернили розовые губки,
Дофина бил сапожника кулак.

Где гордый блеск прославленных столетий?
Исчезло все, развеялось во прах!
За все терпели маленькие дети:
Малютка-принц и девочка в кудрях.

Но вот настал последний миг разлуки.
Чу! Чья-то песнь! Так ангелы поют...
И ты простер слабеющие руки
Туда наверх, где странникам -- приют.

На дальний путь доверчиво вступая,
Ты понял, принц, зачем мы слезы льем,
И знал, под песнь родную засыпая,
Что в небесах проснешься -- королем.

On Tuesday, September 12, 2023 at 12:18:11 AM UTC, NancyGene wrote:
> On Monday, September 11, 2023 at 9:49:41 PM UTC, Ilya Shambat wrote:
> > To you – crown of thorns; of roses – to your fathers
> > To you – an empty jug, to fathers – wine.
> > For their transgressions you have fallen martyr,
> > O the dauphine tormented at the dawn!
> >
> > Not rotten fruit – a flower, unlived, fresh one,
> > The people's anger stomped into the mire.
> > All children have the same expression:
> > Such inexpressible and tender eyes!
> >
> > You've smoked as from a pipe, the heir, the prince, with
> > In your curls, skullcaps of the mutineers;
> > With ruddy wine the pinkish lips were filthy,
> > Shoemaker's fist was beating the dauphine.
> >
> > Where is the proud shine of centuries gloried?
> > Everything vanished, into dust and soil!
> > For all of it the little children suffered:
> > A baby-prince and curly-headed girl.
> >
> > The final moment of the parting's here.
> > Hold! Someone's song! It is the angel chorus...
> > And you spread out the arm that grow weaker
> > There where there's shelter for the travelers.
> >
> > On distant journey credulously departing,
> > You understood, O prince, wherefore we cry,
> > And know, as you to a dear song you slumber,
> > That you'll awake a monarch in the sky.
> >
> > By Marina Tsvetayeva
> > Translated from Russian by Ilya Shambat
> This poem seems to have some mixed up facts, which we attribute to Ilya Shambat's translation. Google Translate says:
>
> "For fathers a crown of roses, for you of thorns,
> For fathers - wine, for you - an empty decanter.
> For their sins you became the evening sacrifice,
> O martyred Dauphin at dawn!"
>
> Note that Ilya Shambat has "Dauphine," and there was no dauphine at that time. There was just the "Dauphin" (the oldest male heir). Louis XVI's oldest child was Marie-Thérèse Charlotte, and she eventually (1824) became the Dauphine of France. She was "Madame Royale" during Louis XVI's reign.
>
> "Not rotten fruit - lifeless-fresh flower
> The people's thunderstorm trampled into the mud.
> All children have the same eyes:
> Inexpressibly tender eyes!"
>
> Ilya Shambat has "All children have the same expression: Such inexpressible and tender eyes!"
> This doesn't make sense, since if they have the same expression, how can they be inexpressible?"
>
> "Crown Prince, you started smoking from a pipe,
> There's a rebel cap in your curls,
> Wine polluted the pink lips,
> The Dauphine hit the shoemaker with his fist."
>
> Google Translate also says "Dauphine" here, which is incorrect since the line says "his." Dauphine is female. We are not sure who is hitting whom, since the original seems to say that the "Dauphine" hit the shoemaker, but Ilya Shambat says that the shoemaker hit the "Dauphine."
>
> "Where is the proud splendor of illustrious centuries?
> Everything has disappeared, disintegrated into dust!
> Little children suffered for everything:
> The little prince and the girl in curls."
>
> We like "dust" instead of Ilya Shambat's "soil." There is also no inversion in the Google Translate. Evidently both children had curls.
>
> "But then came the last moment of separation.
> Chu! Someone's song! This is how the angels sing...
> And you stretched out your weakening arms
> Up there, where there is shelter for wanderers."
>
> We are not sure what "Chu" is supposed to be, but at least Google Translate gives little Louis XVII two arms. Ilya gives him only one, plus he has "arm/grow," which is not correct.
>
> "Trustingly embarking on a long journey,
> You understand, prince, why we shed tears,
> And I knew, falling asleep to my native song,
> That you will wake up in heaven as a king."
>
> Ilya Shambat has inserted a "wherefore" for some reason! He also has him waking up in the sky, which is a lot different from waking up in Heaven. Sheesh.
>
> Here is the original Russian:
>
> Людовик XVII
> Отцам из роз венец, тебе из терний,
> Отцам -- вино, тебе -- пустой графин.
> За их грехи ты жертвой пал вечерней,
> О на заре замученный дофин!
>
> Не сгнивший плод -- цветок неживше-свежий
> Втоптала в грязь народная гроза.
> У всех детей глаза одни и те же:
> Невыразимо-нежные глаза!
>
> Наследный принц, ты стал курить из трубки,
> В твоих кудрях мятежников колпак,
> Вином сквернили розовые губки,
> Дофина бил сапожника кулак.
>
> Где гордый блеск прославленных столетий?
> Исчезло все, развеялось во прах!
> За все терпели маленькие дети:
> Малютка-принц и девочка в кудрях.
>
> Но вот настал последний миг разлуки.
> Чу! Чья-то песнь! Так ангелы поют...
> И ты простер слабеющие руки
> Туда наверх, где странникам -- приют.
>
> На дальний путь доверчиво вступая,
> Ты понял, принц, зачем мы слезы льем,
> И знал, под песнь родную засыпая,
> Что в небесах проснешься -- королем.
Marie Antoinette, where are you when we need you?

On Monday, September 11, 2023 at 5:49:41 PM UTC-4, Ilya Shambat wrote:
>
> To you – crown of thorns; of roses – to your fathers
> To you – an empty jug, to fathers – wine.
> For their transgressions you have fallen martyr,
> O the dauphine tormented at the dawn!
>
> Not rotten fruit – a flower, unlived, fresh one,
> The people's anger stomped into the mire.
> All children have the same expression:
> Such inexpressible and tender eyes!
>
> You've smoked as from a pipe, the heir, the prince, with
> In your curls, skullcaps of the mutineers;
> With ruddy wine the pinkish lips were filthy,
> Shoemaker's fist was beating the dauphine.
>
> Where is the proud shine of centuries gloried?
> Everything vanished, into dust and soil!
> For all of it the little children suffered:
> A baby-prince and curly-headed girl.
>
> The final moment of the parting's here.
> Hold! Someone's song! It is the angel chorus...
> And you spread out the arm that grow weaker
> There where there's shelter for the travelers.
>
> On distant journey credulously departing,
> You understood, O prince, wherefore we cry,
> And know, as you to a dear song you slumber,
> That you'll awake a monarch in the sky.
>
> By Marina Tsvetayeva
> Translated from Russian by Ilya Shambat

Excellent selection and translation/interpretation, I.S.