A Journal of Translation
Original by Gregory Khasin Translated, from the Russian, by Anya Ezhevskaya The thyx is native to the great bushlings of Druzitain, which are prevalent in the Smorga Delta. This animal is a large thyxalia, greenish in coloration. It exhibits two …
Original by Marina Tsvetaeva Translated, from the Russian, by Aster Fialla & Lev Nikulin How could you live with someone new? Easily, huh? One row and – gone! Like a shore that shrinks from view How quick the memory sailed …
Translation by Azura FairChild You and Thou How sweet thou art How empty you are She slipped, and made a substitution And all the happy dreams In the soul that is in love, were aroused Before her I stand pensively …
Я человек, я человек, я человек Три раза повторив эти слова как мантру Пытаюсь разгадать их тайный бег, Который может быть понятен только сердцу. Я человек, твержу я вновь и вновь А значит я -смятение, Корабль, потерявший гавань берегов Сбив …
Once upon a time, there was a beautiful but surprisingly stupid princess, Ira, who had absolutely no idea of what to say and when. For example, when guests gathered at her mom and dad’s palace, stupid Ira would blurt out: …
The last four months of my life were spent in the magical Northern city of Saint Petersburg. Everyday, on my way to the metro station nearest my house, I passed this small but useful market — a stark white, concrete …
The ceiling above the chair was mirrored; that is why throwing my head back I could see myself fastened by belts, enmeshed by sensors with undulatory emitter cones aimed at my temporal lobe. The cones looked very unpleasant. They were …
Maria Rybakova, who balances a dual career as writer and professor of Classics and Humanities at San Diego State University, graciously volunteered a few moments of her time to answer a few questions about translation and her latest published work, …
Gnedich–Translator in Translation: An Interview with Maria Rybakova Read more »
She sings – the purling lyrics melt Like violet kisses on the lips; One glance – within her eyes are felt The welkin’s distant, swirling mists. And if she walks, her every move – Or breathes a word, its every …
Nighttime, the street, a pharmacy, A lamp. Its senseless, dusky flame. Live for another quarter century. All will, a cycle, be the same. You’ll die – again you’ll start anew. And all will, as of old, repeat. Night, water, icy …