It is difficult to find a Russian person who doesn't know by heart at least one poem by Sergei Yesenin (1895-1925), whose distinctive lyricism and lush rural imagery have indelibly imprinted themselves into the Russian consciousness. Second in popularity among Russian speakers only to Alexander Pushkin, Yesenin has received surprisingly little attention abroad, where he is best known for his brief marriage to Isadora Duncan. This bilingual edition (original Russian side-by-side with translation by Anton Yakovlev) is an attempt to rectify the relative scarcity of Yesenin's English translations and to introduce English speakers to many of his most beloved and iconic poems.
We act like children with our dead, Halyna Kruk writes as she struggles to come to terms with the horror unfolding around her: confused, / as if none of us knew until now/ how easy it is to die. In poem after devastating poem, Kruk confronts what we would prefer not to see: a person runs toward a bullet/ with a wooden shield and a warm heart... Translated with the utmost of care by Amelia Glaser and Yulia Ilchuk, A Crash Course in Molotov Cocktails is a guidebook to the emotional combat in Ukraine.
These stunning poems of witness by one of Ukraine's most revered poets are by turns breathless, philosophical, and visionary. In a dark recapitulation of evolution itself, Kruk writes: nothing predicted the arrival of humankind..../ nothing predicted the arrival of the tank... Her taught, lean lines can turn epigrammatic: what will kill you will seduce you first, or they can strike you like Lomachenko's lightening jabs: flirt, Cheka agent, bitch.
Leading readers into the world's darkest spaces, Kruk implies that the light of language can nevertheless afford some measure of protection. Naming serves as a shield, albeit a wooden one. The paradox is that after the bullets have been fired and the missiles landed, the wooden shield, the printed book, reconstitutes itself.
The outbreak of Covid-19 cut short Maria Stepanova's 2020 stay in Cambridge. Back in Russia, she spent the ensuing months in a state of torpor--the world had withdrawn from her, time had gone numb. When she awoke from this state, she began to read Ovid, and the shock of the pandemic dissolved into the voices and metaphors of a transformative, epochal experience. Her book-length poem Holy Winter, written in a frenzy of poetic inspiration, speaks of winter and war, of banishment and exile, of social isolation and existential abandonment. Stepanova finds sublime imagery for the process of falling silent, interweaving love letters and travelogues, Chinese verse and Danish fairy tales into a polyphonic evocation of frozen time and its slow thawing.
As a poet and essayist, Stepanova was a highly influential figure for many years in Moscow's cosmopolitan literary scene until it was strangled by Putin, along with civil liberties and dissent. Like Joseph Brodsky before her, she has mastered modern poetry's rich repertoire of forms and moves effortlessly between the languages and traditions of Russian, European, and transatlantic literature, potently yet subtly creating a voice like no other.
Her poetry, which here echoes verses by Pushkin and Lermontov, Mandelstam and Tsvetaeva, is not hermetic. She takes in and incorporates the confusing signals from social networks and the media, opening herself up to the voices of kindred poets like Sylvia Plath, Inger Christensen, and Anne Carson.
Osip Mandelstam's second collection of poems, Tristia, astonished Russian readers in 1922 with its daring verse forms and meditations on revolution, exile, death and rebirth. Thomas de Waal's new translation gives English-language reader the chance to experience the entire collection for the first time.
The first English-language study of contemporary Russian poetry and its embrace of freedom--formally, thematically, and spiritually
Since 1989 and the fall of the Berlin Wall, Russian poetry has exuded a powerful awareness of freedom, both aesthetic and political. No longer confined to the cultural underground, poets reacted with immediacy to events in the world. In The Freest Speech in Russia, Stephanie Sandler offers the first English-language study of contemporary Russian poetry, showing how these poems both express and exemplify freedom. This period was a time of great poetic flourishing for Russian poets, whether they remained in Russia or lived elsewhere. Sandler examines the work of dozens of poets--including Gennady Aygi, Joseph Brodsky, Grigory Dashevsky, Arkady Dragomoshchenko, Mikhail Eremin, Elena Fanailova, Anna Glazova, Elizaveta Mnatsakanova, Olga Sedakova, Elena Shvarts, and Maria Stepanova--analyzing their engagement with politics, performance, music, photography, and religious thought, and with poetic forms small and large. Each chapter investigates one of these topics, with extensive quotation from the poetry, including translations of all texts into English. In an afterword, Sandler considers poets' responses to Russia's war on Ukraine and the clampdown on free expression. Many have left Russia, but their work persists, and they remain vocal opponents of domestic political oppression and international violence.When Columns, a slim volume of poems written by an unknown young Russian poet named Nikolai Zabolotsky, appeared in 1929, it took the literary world of Leningrad [St. Petersburg] by storm. Zabolotsky was not part of the city's artistic elite, having arrived in Leningrad from the provinces only eight years earlier, but the privations and confusion he found in the city following the 1917 Revolution and ensuing civil war stimulated his poetic imagination. Zabolotsky's translator Dmitri Manin describes his poetry as portraying a worldview with no oppositions, no differences between the living and dead, abstract and concrete, naive and sophisticated, artful and artless, meaningful and meaningless, high and low, important and trivial, funny and sad. It's all mixed inseparably...
The early poems of Nikolai Zabolotsky present to us images of such stark and surprising vividness that they continue to stun nearly a century after their publication. Dmitri Manin's translations retain the freshness of Zabolotsky's vision - that of an imaginative outsider thrust into a world torn apart and remade, haphazardly, by a bloody revolution and civil war - as well as the solemn music that effectively counterpoints the poet's cavalcade of novel images. This book will change the way you see the world around you. - Boris Dralyuk
Today is a Different War is Lyudmyla Khersonska's striking portrayal of life from inside war-torn Ukraine. Masterfully translated into English by Olga Livshin, Andrew Janco, Maya Chhabra, and Lev Fridman, no other volume of poems captures the duality of fear and bravery, anger and love, despair and hope, as well as the numbness and deep feeling of what it means to be Ukrainian in these unthinkable times. If you want to know what's in the heart of the Ukrainian people, look no further than this stunning volume of poems.
Anna Akhmatova was born near Odesa in 1889. Christened as Anna Gorenko, she adopted her penname from the family of her mother. She attended school in Tsarskoe Selo and lived most of her life in Saint Petersburg, the city with which so much of her poetry is intimately connected. She frequented the Tower, the famous literary salon of the symbolist poet Vyacheslav Ivanov, and in 1910 she married fellow poet Nikolay Gumilev. Together they became associated with the literary movement know as Acmeism. The couple were divorced in 1918, three years before Gumilev was executed by the Bolsheviks for counter revolutionary activities.
Akhmatova achieved fame with her first collection of poems, Evening, published in 1912, and her subsequent collections, Rosary and White Flock consolidated her reputation as one of Russia's leading poets during the period preceding the October Revolution. After 1917 she took the decision to remain in Russia, rather than join those of her fellow writers who were opting to go into exile in the West. Between the publication of the second edition of Anno Domini in 1923 and the death of Stalin in 1953-with a brief reprieve during the Great Patriotic War-she found herself subject to censorship, and in 1946 she was expelled from the Soviet Writers' Union in the wake of the notorious speech by the Communist Party cultural boss Andrey Zhdanov, in which he described her as a 'cross between a nun and a whore'. Nonetheless, although she faced much personal hardship and a protracted exclusion from publication as a consequence of her decision to remain in Russia, she was also able to create Requiem, her great affirmation of solidarity with the victims of the Stalinist purges.
After Stalin's death in 1953 the restrictions on Akhmatova's work were gradually relaxed and a selection of her poems, entitled The Course of Time, was published in 1958. She died in Moscow in 1966.