"Письмо Татьяны к Онегину" в переводе разных авторов

ПИСЬМО ТАТЬЯНЫ К ОНЕГИНУ

Я к вам пишу – чего же боле?
Что я могу еще сказать?
Теперь, я знаю, в вашей воле
Меня презреньем наказать.
Но вы, к моей несчастной доле
Хоть каплю жалости храня,
Вы не оставите меня.
Сначала я молчать хотела;
Поверьте: моего стыда
Вы не узнали б никогда,
Когда б надежду я имела
Хоть редко, хоть в неделю раз
В деревне нашей видеть вас,
Чтоб только слышать ваши речи,
Вам слово молвить, и потом
Все думать, думать об одном
И день и ночь до новой встречи.
Но, говорят, вы нелюдим;
В глуши, в деревне всё вам скучно,
А мы… ничем мы не блестим,
Хоть вам и рады простодушно.

Tatiana's Letter

by Charles Johnston

I write to you - no more confession
is needed, nothing's left to tell.
I know it's now in your discretion
with scorn to make my world a hell.

But, if you've kept some faint impression
of pity for my wretched state,
you'll never leave me to my fate.
At first I thought it out of season
to speak; believe me: of my shame
you'd not so much as know the name,
if I'd possessed the slightest reason
to hope that even once a week
I might have seen you, heard you speak
on visits to us, and in greeting
I might have said a word, and then
thought, day and night, and thought again
about one thing, till our next meeting.
But you're not sociable, they say:
you find the country godforsaken;
though we... don't shine in any way,
our joy in you is warmly taken.

Why did you visit us, but why?
Lost in our backwoods habitation
I'd not have known you, therefore I
would have been spared this laceration.
In time, who knows, the agitation
of inexperience would have passed,
I would have found a friend, another,
and in the role of virtuous mother
and faithful wife I'd have been cast.

ИССЛЕДОВАТЕЛЬСКИЙ ПРОЕКТ НА ТЕМУ

«Переводима ли гениальность?

(НА ОСНОВЕ АНАЛИЗА ПЕРЕВОДОВ «ПИСЬМА ТАТЬЯНЫ К ОНЕГИНУ»)»

Автор:

Дмитриева Дарья

ученица 8 класса

МБУ «Школа № 70»

Tatiana's Letter

by Rosa Newmarch

I write to you . . . when that is said
What more is left for me to say ?
Now you are free (I know too well)
To heap contempt upon my head.
Yet if some sparks of pity dwell
Within your breast you'll surely not
Abandon me to my hard lot.
When first I saw you I desired
To hold my peace : my shame ('tis true)
Would ne'er have been revealed to you
Had life's conditions but inspired
One gleam of hope that you would come
To see us in our country home
From time to time, so that I might
Hear but one word, catch but one tone,
And live by dreaming on alone
Till our next meeting, day and night.
But then it seemed there was no hope;
Our rustic quiet bored you so,
Folk said you were a misanthrope;
And we—we do not make a show—
You found us narrow in our scope.

Why did you come to visit us
I n this forgotten quiet place ?
I need not have been tortured thus
If I had never seen your face.
My inexperienced heart maybe
Had grown resigned to this dull life,
And future years had brought to me
Some other love—my destiny
An honoured mother and true wife.

Tatiana's Letter

by Dennis Litoshik

I write to you -- what can be more than this?
What else to say could I attempt?
And now, I know, you may if you would please,
To punish me with your contempt.
But you cannot abandon me at ease
If slightest pity has been left
T' my fate of happiness bereft.
T' not say a word at first I wanted
Believe: about my shameful fall
You would've never learnt at all
If I still was by hope haunted
To have you come just once a week,
To see you here, listen how you speak
A couple words to you to tweet,
About one thing to think and then
All night and day to think ‘bout it again
Until next time when we will meet.
But people say you're not that out-going,
And here, in the countryside, you're bored
But we... we have no glitter brightly showing
And simply heartfelt welcome can afford.
Why did you come to our part of land?
I would've never met you nor I would've learnt
Such bitter torment in this settlement
By Lord forgotten in the back of the beyond.
And having pacified (who knows?) the Fronde,
Unrest of verdant soul as the time flies by,
I would've found a friend for heart, a mate,
A faithful wife I could've made,
A virtuous mother could be I.

Tatiana's Letter

by Vyacheslav Chistyakov

I write to you – what’s in addition? 
What else will I be able to say?
Just want to tell you my ambition – 
At me you now be mocking may!
Still in embarrassing position      
Your true compassion should be shown –      
You will not let me all alone!
I would not give you such a scope 
To learn my undercover shame, – 
Would go on to play the game
If only there was a hope
For me to see you at our place, –   
Somehow with you touching base, –    
To have a chance to hear you speaking,
To say a word, and later on
To think of you when you are gone
And wait for a subsequent meeting.
But they do say you are aloof,
And hardly bear backwoods here,
While as for us… we’re living proof
Of village people to be sincere.

Why did you visit our place?
In this back of beyond settlement 
Without you I’d never face
Up to this bitter disarrangement.
With time there would be some engagement,
And then without any strife
I’d leave all young soul worries rather   
To be for children a good mother
And for my husband a true wife.