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2013

Translation Of Selected Poems By M. Stepanova

M. Stepanova

Sibelan E. S. Forrester , translator

Swarthmore College, [email protected]

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Recommended Citation
M. Stepanova and Sibelan E. S. Forrester , translator. (2013). "Translation Of Selected Poems By M.
Stepanova". Relocations: Three Contemporary Russian Women Poets. 106-175.
https://works.swarthmore.edu/fac-russian/168

This work is brought to you for free by Swarthmore College Libraries' Works. It has been accepted for inclusion in
Russian Faculty Works by an authorized administrator of Works. For more information, please contact
[email protected].
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: . .■;’V..' .: ,

Mapm CTEHAHOBA
•-«>',-■

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- - JK'.' - .f..- *>«»-, -r ,.

- • . r-A‘‘ -. .-i

■-■
Maria STEPANOVA

translated by Sibelan Forrester

HeCKOnbKO rionO^eHHH
(cTHXH Ha HOflK;iaAKe)

M nuiuy amu cmpOKu, ;ieaca.

B xenaoM naene. Ha tcmhom aoace.
HemH^e h c KpcMOM na poace.

^ HHIIiy 3TH CXpOKH, TJlSl}S,!l

He Hapyacy, bo ABop xexpaAH,
Hh - BOBHyxpb, xAe npn bccm napaAC,

HpHHapaaceHHbie, acHBbie,
Ha nycxbiHHbie mocxobmc
IIIaH AHBH3HH MOSXOBbie,
Ho — cK)Aa, B poAHO nepeHocbe,
Tao npoxoAHX HeapHMoii ocbk),
Baox 3a BbiAOx, OAHO-xoaocbe.

Bbi ac, ox xcMeHKa h ao naxKH,

Ho3bohkh, nepenoHKH, npaAKH,
Bee Meexa, xac xbocxom Bepxeaa,
Bee yxaw, xac Hxpaaa b npaxKH,
Jlo6HBascb, Hexo xoxeaa,
TexKa MoaoAoexb e xeAKoii xeaa,

Ho6biBaHxe-Ka oahhokh:
Hoe B noAyiuKy, b noABexH okh,
Horn B exopoHbi, pyxH b 6okh.
B He6HOM rpoxe, kbk exaAO, 3y6bi.
BeAbifi ao6. H epaMHwe xy6bi.
HoexpoMKH. HoayexaHKH. Tpy6bi.

eBepHyBuieeea b KyaaK.
Teaa enaipa hohhoh ryUAF.

[106] MAPWa CXEBAHOBA

Several Positions
(verses on the lining)

1.
I write these lines down, lying down.
In a warm plaid blanket. On a dim couch.
Negligee, with cold-cream on my mug.

I write these lines down, regarding

Not outward, at the yard of the notebook.
Nor inward, where with all due pomp.

Dressed in their finest, lively.

The divisions of the brain
Were hitting the deserted pavements.
But — hither, into the family nosebridge.
Where mono-phony runs through as an axis.
Inbreath by outbreath, intangible.

While you, from your head to your heel.

Vertebrae, membranes, locks of hair.
All the spots where you wagged your tail.
All the corners where you played hide-and-seek.
Managing to get what you wanted.
Auntie youth with the baby body.

So spend some time being lonely:

Nose to the pillow, eyes in the underlids.
Legs to each side, hands on your hips.
In the palate’s grotto, teeth like a flock.
White forehead. And nether lips.
Reins. Way stations. Trumpets.

The / in a fist, wrapped up tight.

Sleeping bodies are a Gulag by night.

MARIA STEPANOVA [107]

2.
R noeecmeyw o ;ik)6om cupomcmee,
3/ionaMflTCTBe, 6ecnaMHTCXBe, lopoflCTBe.

O c;iaflocTH h c;ia6ocTH, xmexe

H acape, o hcbchhoh Mcpaaoxe.

Ho Hxo, KOFfla PonaHflOB por ycabimaH,

H no floannaM axo, n no KpbiniaM

OxBexHoe n poAcxBennoe ox,

KaKOMy H oxflaxb nocneflHHH BSflOx?

... rioKa Mbi cnHM, KaK 6pax n 6pax, no xpyxy,

Kax capKO(J)ar, rse cnax pyxa o pyxy,

Cnax nofl xo^mom b xopoBax n xycxax,

C axpyccxoii cnax ynbi6xox) b ycxax —

JlK)6oBb Mana n xaacexcH 6oaoHxon,

H xoace cnnx, npoxanyxa nonocxon

EflBa flnHHHeii, hcm xy(|)aB c xa6aynxoM,

B nonnonnwH nac neacau^aa hhhxom.

Koxfla ac npocncMca n npocxynnx hbhocxb

H BCxancM cocxaBaaxb flByanxHH anyc

Ha axcnepHMenxaabHbiii noanron,
H BnepeflH— nocaeflHnn neperon, —

/[K)6oBb pacnpocxpannexcH, xax nbanna,

Bonna n roaofl.
H paflHO npn apnn naana
npn6aBHX roaoc.

[108] MAPna CXEnAHOBA

2.

/ tell the tale of any orphanhood.

Evil memory, lost memory, holy foolishness.

Of sweetness and weakness, vanity

And fire, of uneternal frozenness.
But what, when Roland s horn is heard
And echoes through the valleys, and over the roofs

Comes an answering and familial oh.

To which might one lend one’s last sigh?

... While we sleep, like brother and brother, round the circle.
Like a sarcophagus, where they sleep hand in hand.

They sleep under the hill in cows and bushes.

With an Etruscan smile in their mouths they sleep —

Love’s little and seems like a lapdog.

And also sleeps, stretched out in a stripe

Barely longer than a kitten-heeled slipper.

Lying face-down at the midnight hour.

When we wake up and clarity penetrates

And we get up to form a two-faced Janus

Onto the polygon of the experiments.

And ahead of us is the final chase —

Love spreads out wide, like a market square.

War and famine.
And the radio during Pagliacci’s aria
Will add its voice in.

MARIA STEPANOVA [109]

3-

JI max odna. HuKtno He nop.HUMaem

Hh Ha BepmoK, hh Ha em;e hcmho^ko,
XOTH H Bexep HBOH o6HHMaCT
H Bray6b cyex, kbk b xecHoe ;iyKoniKO,

Xoxfl CBoe cexoAHH oxxpoMa;ia

B CHopxaane CHHKpexHHecKoii npHpoflw,
Ffle odpaspw hsbccxkh h KpaxMana
Pa6oxaiox nafl 6yflyui;HM nopoflw,

Ffle Mope ox4)HHbxpoBbiBaex neny,

H pacaBHHHa Hapauj,HBaex haw,
H flmepHpw cnymaiox IIIoneHa,
KaK xpenepa, h Acnaiox, hxo naAO.

H yacHHex AHCxacHHaa Macca

FIoA Co6cXBeHHbIH pCBOAIOpbOHHblH XOHOX
ripH6aBOHHyK) cxoHMOCXb no MapKcy
H flapBHHa He ohhmhhhckhh onbix.

H aM(J)HxeaxpaAbHoio uiKaAoio
PaSBH- H paSBeXBAHIOXCH XBOpeHbfl.
X xaM 6biAa, KaK 4>Hxa hoa hoaok),
FIohxh xailKOM, KaK cxiCAeno Bapenbe:

FIoa AaMHOH, o6yHaiou],eH paaacaxbca,

BxoAHXb B seHHX, AoacHXbCH paBMHoacaxbCH,
Flo HHXHAeXKC B H03ax ApeXHHO
Pa6oxaxb habh h yKpamaxb KapxHHy.

SaxeM, Hxo hohb — Aeacypnaa anxexa, —

B cxeKAe, oxhhx h MeAHpeHCKHX cecxpax

[lio] MAPHH CXEHAHOBA

3-

I am so only. No one raises

By even an inch, nor by a little over,
Though the wind too hugs like a willow
And shoves deeper, like into a cramped basket.

Though today it limped through its whole route

In the gymnasium of syncretic nature.
Where exemplars of plaster and starch
Are working on the future of the breed.

Where the sea filters out its foam.

And the rust cultivates poisons.
And the lizards listen to Chopin
Like a trainer, and do what’s needed.

And the leafy mass clarifies

To the beat of its own revolutionary gallop
The value added according to Marx
And the unolympic experience of Darwin.

And like an amphitheatrical scale

Creatures devel- and ramify widely.
I was there, like a rude sign in a pocket.
Almost secretly, like stolen jam:

Under a lamp that teaches to unclench.

To enter the zenith, lie down to multiply.
Following a five-year plan in Aretino poses
To work the plan and decorate the picture.

Because the night — a pharmacy on call —

The rolodex of accessible versions

MARIA STEPANOVA [ill]

^ocxynHbix BapnaHTOB KapxoxeKa —
BeaaioflHbix, nioflHbix, o6oK)Aoocxpbix.

SaxcM Haxypa na ne bchkhh c/tynaH

Cyex nofl hoc aHbxepHaxHBHbi bham:
CKaaa-H-nHam;, h flCBa nepen xyneH
B aanncHHbix nxHpax 6ypH h oBhaw,

H nyuiKHH naAaex b roHydoBaxbm;

H Kxo HC>KaH B flOHHHe flaxccxaHa;
H xoHMbi saBonaKHBaex Baxoit,
Hxo6bi pbiflaxb HaA hhmh nepecxana,

nepeHHMana o6pas oropoAa

H He ropAHHacb acpeBneM eAHHbiM:
SaApaB KOHbe, CKaKaxb aa xochoahhom
Ha pyKOMbiumbi-MeHbHHAbi npHpoAbi

[112] MAPMa CXEHAHOBA

In the glass, the lights and the medusical nurses —
Unpeopled, crowded, sharp on both ends.

Then Nature, not just in case.

Sticks views alternative under your nose:
ClifF-and-cloak, and the maiden ’neath the storm
In the epaulettic birds of blizzard and hurt.

And Pushkin falls into the bluish;

And who lay in the vale of Dagestan;
And the hills are shrouded in cotton wool
So I can cease to sob over them,

I imitated the kitchen gardens image

With no pride in drawing a singular lot:
Lifting my spear, to gallop after the gentleman —
Against the hand-muscle-mills of nature!
3oo, )KeHiii;HHa, 06e3biiHa

Mko Mou cyttib ecu seepue dySpaenuu,

CKomu 8 zopax u eojioee.
ric. 50:10

300

... H imcz. Boccxaex, uiaxaHCt

Ha KOpHHHCBblX HepcHKax.
H MCABeflb aaflBHxaex spcHbe,
Kax 6bi xBoitHaa naxepHH.
H oaeHH KaacyxcH cxapme co6cxBeHHbix uixyp.
H nonapHbie cobw xpaxax cboh xopnocxaH.
H ABypBCXHbie yxKH bmboahx cboh rapHHSOH.
H fflByHOFHe flCBKH xopnax h3 cbohx nyaoK,
Bbinycxaiox flbiM BocKHHpaxeabHOH khohkoh pxa
H aeacax no cxaMeenKaM nHpaMH k ne6ecaM.

Ssecb Mbi He npocxo xax,

Mbi anecb no Acny.
Kax paaxoBop nepe« 6oeM, h aaecb CHsena.
Tennwii hchbox, hxo xonncxy,
Hepefl C060H xaxfl,
Kax B ocxpoBax oxoxhhx, h sAecb ry/nwa,
CnoBHO aanex, nonynana nonex h nacxy,
H60 nx)6oH y6oFHH
flByxpbinbiil, nexBepoHOFHH,
Sflecb o6pexaex sec, npeflXjBBHB ahxh.

[114] MAPMX CXEnAHOBA

Zoo, Woman, Monkey

For every beast of the forest is mine,

and the cattle upon a thousand hills.
Ps. 50:10

the zoo

... And the vixen ascends, staggering,

On all her cinnamon-colored fours.
And the bear shifts his vision forward.
As if its a hop-fingered hand.
And the deer seem older than their own skins.
And the polar owls waste their ermine.
And the bi-colored ducks send out their garrison.
And the two-legged girls stick up out of their stockings.
Exude smoke with their exclamatory mouth buttons
And lie around on benches facing the skies.

We aren’t here Just for nothing.

We’re here on business.
Like a conversation before a battle, I sat here.
Trundling my warm belly before me
Like a stroller.
Like a hunter in the islands, I strolled here.
Just like a bar tab, I received honor and flattery.
For any pathetic
Two-winged, four-legged being
Acquires weight here upon presenting a child.

MARIA STEPANOVA [115]

Sflecb ycneuiHO nopa6oTa/iH KOHBeiiepbi npHpofl.
y6eflHxenbHbie cepuu napoflOB h nopofl
Ha raaaax BocnpoHSBOAflTCH, hotomctbom o63aBOAHTCH,
HCB3HpaH Ha HCBOJIK) H HaMOpflHHK Ha HHu;e.
H HOKyAa bo3AC npyAa xopoBOAW xopoBOAHXCH,
Haxypa-no;iKOBOAHU,a, noxaxHHpa-aaBOAHHUia,
HoBbimaex noronoBbe h nnpyex na KpbiAbpe.

A H BcexAa 6bi;ia hpoxhbhhk o6H3axeHbHbix «ce3aM!»

H B noAcxaBHCHHbie KOHbpa noKaaaxenbHbix npwacKOB.
M KOXAa Haxypa-Aypa yAap^na no xaaaM,
^ 6biBaHa HenoABHXCHa ox BcpmKOB ao KopeuiKOB.
A KOXAa H poAOBoe HaKpwBano c xohobok),
H HOKa3biBano jmu,a, y6eacAaH noBxopHXbca
H HaKHHyxb napy nexenb na ceMeficxBeHHbie chhaw,
Ha ABa nanbpa — ho npoAAHXbca, npoxBHyxbca no och! —
PaBHOAyniHO h cnoKOHHo a xBepAHAa hm uepcu.

Ho HXO H3 3X0X0 BbinMO?

H HXO Mbi 3Aecb Ha6moAaeM?
HaA HCM CMceMca, Aynia, h xyAa pwAacM?
KaK MancHbKHH h nyaaxbiH, H3Ma3aHHbiH acnpoM 6o»cok,
(Ha3BaHHfl pa3Hbie, acho oaho h xo ace)
y 30ooxpaAbi nocnyniHbiH eM nnpoacoK,
H BBxaaABi npoxoacHX mok) noAHpyiox Koacy.

KyAa HAyx ApaaHHXbca h peaoBaxbca —

Ckaohhbuih yM, cexoAHa npranaa CAaBaxbca,

HHCXOCepACHHblM 3HaHbeM, nOBHHHOit HBKOii

Mecxo ce6e aapa6oxaxb, xax 6o6p h 3e6pa,
MeacAy ceaoHHoit aHHbKofi h 3HMHeii cnanKOH
BbixopoAHXb ce6e 6e3MaxeacHbiH yxoa,

[116] MAPMa CXEBAHOBA

Here natures’ conveyer belts have worked successfully.
Persuasive series of peoples and breeds
Reproduce before your eyes, equip themselves with descendents,
Regardless of the unfreedom and the muzzle on the face.
And as long as round dances dance round beside the pond,
Nature our regimental leader, indulger-and-procuress.
Raises the per capita tax and feasts on the terrace.

While I was always opposed to obligatory Open Sesamels

And demonstrative leaps through held-up hoops.
And when nitwit-nature would hit the gasses,
I would tend to be motionless from inches to roots.
But when the maternal covered me up to my head.
And showed me faces, persuading me to repeat myself
And toss a couple stitches on the family knitting needles.
Two fingers long — but continue, stretch out on the axis! —
Indifferently and calmly I asserted to them merd.

But what came of that?

And what do we observe here?
What do we laugh at, my soul, and whither do we sob?
Like a little fat-smeared and tubby god
(Names may vary; the thing’s one and the same).
By the waters of zoopolis I eat an obedient cookie.
And eyes of the passersby polish my skin.

Where they go to mock and kiss —

Lowering my reason, today I’ve come to give in.

With pure-hearted knowledge, with a guilty plea

To earn myself a place, like the beaver and zebra.
Between the seasonal molt and the winter sleep
To wall myself off an unrebellious corner.

MARIA STEPANOVA [117]

JleHb Ha 6eTOHHbiii no;i, noHio6HTb pemcTKy —
BepHbiil KapKac rpHAymero rnesAOBaHbH.
Sflecb H H SAecb cno^y cboh ynoBaHba.

SaCCB a H 6yAy BOC- H npO-H3BOAHXbCH

C KaaCAMM KOMKOM CAM H KpyaCKOM BOAHU,bI,
Teay AOBepHB npoHHOCXb h MHorosHaHHOCXb:
To jiH ABynHHHOcxb, a xo ah eAHHo6paHHOcxb.

Saccb, xac xopryrox uiapHKaMH h cokom,

Fac AOHcpeii Hecyx na naenax MyacHHHbi,

SaCCB MHC H BpCMB MCCXO SaHflXb no HHHy:
Hxo6bi Bocceaa Boaae «cailraK» h «coKon»:
JlHniHHH CBHACxeab npH onycxeBmcM rpo6e.

MaMKOii H HHHbKOH CHH HpH CBOCft yxpo6c.

[118] MAPM8 CTEHAHOBA

To lie down on the cement floor, to love the bars —
The faithful carcass of my imminent nesting.
Here I am and here I lay down my raptures.

Here I am and I’ll re- and pro-duce myself

With each lump of food and mug of water,
Entrusting firmness and many meanings to my body:
Perhaps two-facedness, or perhaps mating for life.

Here, where they trade in balloons and juice.

Where men carry daughters on their shoulders.
Here it’s time for me to assume my rightful rank:
So I can be enthroned beside “antelope” and “falcon”:
A superfluous witness beside an emptied grave.

Like nanny and nurse, sleeping over my own womb.

MARIA STEPANOVA [119]

JKCHmUHa

ripocTyiuKa-HiiTa b kbctkc narHuiOM:

JIhPO KyBbKOM, COCKH KapaHAaiuoM,
B Horax ahta h b ronoBax KopwTO.

H TO, HTO mepcTbio pbiaceio yKpwxa,

M TO, HTO Myaca paacero nacex,
Ee He ycnoKOHT, He cnacex.

H KpaneHaa xpanKa pnexa 6eac

noxeniHT yM, ho xoace ne cnacaex,
A HOByio Taxyio He HaiiAenib.
H AHH Hflyx, H rpysH o6BHcaiOT,
Kax napyca o6MaHyxbix HapeAC.

flHTH HO-npeacHeMy Hrpaex na nony,

K xe6e chhhoh; oho yace peBMpa
M xonex HpaBHXbCH b CBoeM yrny.
Box acH3Hb npouiHa, h Hexypa peBaTbCH.

A B KBexKe HanpoTHB ppyrHe, y hhx npHaoBbie Mecxa.

Box Kxo-xo 3a6eraBa, Cbina na nnenH napeB,
ripOBepHBa CKOpOCXH H flaBbH060HH0CXb XBOCXa.
A npoHHe npanyx CMyipeHHbie ahhhkh peB.

Hnbie yxopax na BepxHHe hoakh,

Koxopwe xax paAeKH.
H cxpoAX B yMe o6e3bHHbH naAaxbi,
Bepyx o6e3bHHbH hoakh.

[120] MAPMA CXEHAHOBA

the woman

Simpleton-Chita all naked in checks:

Face like a sack, nipples like pencils,
Children at her feet and a trough at her head.

And the fact that she’s covered in red fur.

And the fact that she herds her beefy husband
Won’t calm her down, won’t save her.

And the stolen rag, beige colored.

Will console her mind but also is no savior.
Though you won’t find another one like that.
And the days pass, and your breasts sag
Like the sails of disappointed hopings.

The wee one plays on the floor as before.

Its back to you; it is already a girl
And wants to be liked in its corner.
There life has passed, and nowhere to stick yourself.

But the ones in the cage across, they have prize positions.
There someone’s started running, popping her son on her shoulders.
Tested the gears and throwing range of her tail.
While yet others conceal their embarrassed maidens’ faces.

Different ones go off onto the upper shelves.

Which are at such a distance.
And build in their minds monkey palaces.
Command monkey regiments.

MARIA STEPANOVA [l2l]

Hnwe onacHbi, hhmc ph6h.
Hnwe neacaT, KaK apcBecHbi rpH6bi,
Kax pwdHHbi wm pa6bi.
Hafl HHMH KanaioToi ;ioMCHonHaHbi,
H TCHH jioacaxcB Ha Ji6hi.

C BecHOii OHH ceiox cboh ccMCHa,

Ho BpCMH npOXOAHX, H HXO HO)«HHa?

H ACXH, H ACXH Han acaxBOH o6H;ibHOH

Jlexaiox Ha xaiviepe aBxoMo6H;ibHOH,
MeitbKafl B MyaccKHX h^h acencKHX spaHxax,
Ha KnexKy HanpaBJieHHwx cjiCBa h cnpaBa,
Cxapeiox 6eccMbicneHHO h BenHHaBO
Yace B MaxepHHCKHx pyxax.

H xbi ox/iexaeuib HCAaBHCfi san/iaxoH

Ox acHSHCHHOH XKaHH xyAOH H ycxaaoH,
^HBOxHaa aceHCXBCHHOCXb c xpanKOK) cmhxoh
H B aaAHeil aaAOHH Kax nacMepxb aaacaxoii —
XaoHHaxo6yMaacHOH, aanomcHHOH, BAaacHOii
TpHHHi;eK) MaacHbxoH, MaacHbxoii, Maaon!

A H Bce HAy X xe6e c ohhok) cxaBxoii,

Kax B nacnopxHbiH cxoa aa pemaxjuiieH cnpaBxofl,
CxoHXb, HOAcxaBaHB xe6e sepxaaa —
CxexafluixH ohxob, annapaxbi a^h c’bcmxh,
Cboh, co cacAaMH HCAaBHCH hohomxh,
HocacAHero naca xeaa h Acaa.

[122] MAPMa CXEHAHOBA

Some are dangerous, some are pockmarked.
Some lie there like tree ear mushrooms,
Like great big fish or slaves.
The pseudolianas sway above them.
And the shadows lie down on their brows.

Starting in spring they sow their seed.

But time passes, and what is reaped?

And the children, children above the abundant harvest

Go flying on an automobile cab.
Flickering in male and female pupils
Directed to the cage from left and right.
Already as they lie in their mothers’ arms
They’re aging senselessly and grandiosely.

And you fly off like a recent patch

From the thin weary fabric of life.
Animal womanliness with a crumpled rag
And clutched to death in the palm of your foot —
Like a cotton, worn-out, humid
Little rag, the small, the little one!

And I keep coming to see you eye to eye.

Like going to the passport office for a crucial permit.
To stand, holding mirrors up to you —
The glass chips of spectacles, the photographic apparati.
We’re one crew, with traces of a recent break.
The bodies and deeds of the final hour.

MARIA STEPANOVA [123]

oSesbHHu

Mo/iotohkh cxynax, noxaeHHwe xohkh ropax,

IloxoroHHbie uixyHKH saBOAflx ceaoH-KaACHAapb,
TaK Hxo MaMbi H AOHKH BbixoAflx Ha o6uj;hh napafl,
H oxpbl C CbIHOBbflMH SaBOAHX COBMCCXHblH 6yKBapb,
Ffle 6A6CXHX H no(|)bipKHBax, nnpKaex h saropa,
CoxHCH AoaceHCK B MCAKHx cxaKaHax Hxpaex c yxpa,
H eAHHCXBCHHbiH Bbiflox, KBK ccxb, o6x>acHBex Bpany,
Hxo yMa HCHOBCHbero Hccxb roiH a hc xony.

OxKpwBaeuib XBasa — h nopa 3a6Hpaxbca b kobhcx:

npndbiBaex BecHa, HaKpwBaH xc6h c ronoBOH,
npndBHacaexcH nex, Hacxynaex c BOCxoKa KonnaK
H pasflexbie HCMpbi Kax koabh cxohx hoa Mockboh.
H o6oApaHHbie, kak 6oKa, napxHsaHbi aecoB.
H y6HXbie bcxhhkh 6e3 Ko6ypbi h hacob.
Bee, Kxo AcaHo6bi KaccapHOHHbie cm.n. na 3aKax,
Bee, no kom, enoBHO kohokoh, 6hh H3biKOM aabokax —

H He Bbi6HH oxepoHKH. H roHAH, enoBHO Aeena,

rioexoHHbu,eB 3eMHH Bbinyexaex h3 exbiAHoro ena.
H OHH no npeAMeexbHM 3a nepnoH hohxoboh boaoh,
Coxpfleaa 3a6opbi, eBo6oAHO HAyx oho6oaoh.
Ho KyAa HH HOHAyx — eaM-eKo6oH aanHpaexefl ABepn,
JlHHib HOABexpeHHbiH nee noAHHMaex oboh eonoBbH.
Hah 3X0 myMHX 6e3'bB3biKaH maabh xBapb,
H acenaex nomaAw, h 6bexeH b npeAenbi oboh?

[124] MAPMA CTEHAHOBA

the monkey

The mallets tap, the secret gear teeth burn,

Sweat-provoking thingies crank up the season calendar
So mamas and daughters come out to the common parade.
And fathers with sons start reading the primer they share.
Where it flashes and snor-, chirrups and starts to bur-.
Plays all day like a hundred spoons in shallow glasses.
And a single exhalation, as it is, explains to the doctor
That the mind of the human is lacking, or I don’t wanna.

You open your eyes — and it’s time to tuck into the ark:
Spring is delivered, covering up to your head.
The Czech draws near, Kolchak attacks from the east.
And the ragged Germans stand outside Moscow like stakes.
And the forest partisans, ragged as flanks.
And the slain pilots without their holsters and watches.
All who filed their complaints of appeal at dawn.
All for whom the lawyer’s tongue swung like a bell-clapper —

And didn’t wring out a deferment. And naked as gums.

The earth releases its lodgers from shameful sleep.
And they in their suburbs go get black postal water.
Shaking the fences, canter freely through the canton.
But wherever they head — the door’s locked with two shackles.
Only their own nightingales lift the aired-out forest.
Or is it the tongueless little creatures making noise.
And wanting mercy, and throbbing in their own boundaries?

MARIA STEPANOVA [125]

B OaCHAEHbH aMHHCTHH, KEK ncpCfl CTpaiUHbIM CyAOM,
Tyx H H nocHacy y npyaa, npnoTKpbiToro nbAOM,
06e3bflHbH aaflOHH, KaK cboa, yKpbiBaiomHH cboa,
yaoacHB Ha >khbot,

Mto6m to, hto o6enj;aHO b tcmhom npocxpaHCTBC nycxoM,

KaK Ho6eAHbiH caaiox, oxHOCHAOcb h k HaM c acHBoxoM,
OxHOCHAOCb KaK BCXpOM, AOaCHAOCb B oBbflXbH CaMO,
CaOBHO B HmHK HHCbMO.

B KpacHO-6eaoM naabxo, b KpacHo-6eaoM uinpoKOM naabxo

riocHAHM y npyfla, noaoacHBniHCb Ha axo h xo,
BeapasMcpHoe O, KaK uiHpoKHH okohhhh npocM,
HaceaHH babocm.

[126] MAPMa CTEHAHOBA

Expecting an amnesty, as if facing the Last Judgment,
I too shall sit here by the pond covered over by ice.
Placing, like an arch that shelters another arch.
Monkey palms on my belly.

So that what is promised in dark empty space

Should apply to us and our bellies too, like a victory salute.
Should apply like the wind, lie down in its own embrace.
Like a letter going into a mailbox.

In a red and white coat, in a wide red and white coat

Let us sit by the pond, relying on this and on that,
A measureless O like a broad window opening.
Settling there two together.

MARIA STEPANOVA [127]

O nio4)epe

Box rpyaoBHK 3a6Hpaexca b ropy.

Box npoc3>Kaex no xcMHOMy 6opy.
Kpyxnx 6apanKy mo(|)ep nonyconnwH,
He oxxoHHH nexynne cohmm.
Hnan KOMapHHbifi, nHxymenbH k^hkh,
B HCApax MauiHHbi ApeMynee nenbe,
Cxenn cyxne n cxpanHbie 6nnKH
Oh He AOBOAHX ao xohkh KHneHba.

EAex H rpe3HX b xecHOH KaMope,

H nepeA hhm oxKpbiBaexca Mope.

HepHbiM H cepwM oho nonocaxo.

3a MopeM TypnHH. HnaacH nycxeiox.
Box OH CBepnex ko anaxoMOMy caAy
H oxneacHXCH b xo3bhckoh nocxe/ra.

CBepxoK yxyxan b nbHHHyio can(|)exKy,

CnoeM ^JO/rbXH aanenenyx,
Toncxoft 6yMaroH, aa Heft — nanHpocHOH.
Pbl6bl HAblByX H HnbiByx H He XOHyX.

H, o6Haacafl, 6yMara xpycxHx.

nxHU,bi yMonKAH. Haxypa npocxHX.

TaftHOH KapXHHKH OFHH H canioxbi,

Anbie CHonoxH, aenenwe aapeaa,
^HBbi HapoAHoft xonbie nnenn,
CBexAbie Bonocbi, xeMHwe 6poBH,
Horn B naaypHbix, aAcypnbix nyAKax!

[128] MAPM8 CXEnAHOBA

About a Driver

There’s a truck climbing up the mountain.

There it’s driving through a dark pine grove.
A half-sleepy driver turning the wheel,
Not driving off the flying multitudes.
The mosquitoes’ lament, the frogs’ calls.
The slumberous song in the vehicle’s bowels.
He doesn’t bring the dry steppes
And strange flashes to the point of boiling.

He drives and daydreams in the cramped cab.

And the sea opens out before him.

With black and grey it is striped.

Beyond the sea is Turkey. Beaches empty.
Here he’ll turn towards a familiar garden
And have a lie-down in the owners’ bed.

A bundle is wrapped in a linen napkin.

Diapered with a layer of gilt.
Thick paper, with cigarette paper inside it.
Fish swim and swim, and they do not sink.

And, making naked, the paper rustles.

The birds fall silent. Nature will forgive.

The flares and salutes of a secret little picture.

Scarlet northern lights, skies glowing green.
The naked shoulders of a people’s wonder.
The blond hair, the dark eyebrows.
The legs in sky-blue see-through stockings!
CBaAb6a ripHHLi,a 4ap>ab3a h KaMHjmbi
riapKep-Boyjis b Hp^Mofi TpaHcnBii,HH
HeMeu,Koro Kanana RTL

Bhaho c AHBaHa, kohchh

TeCHO K AOKTHM nOflTHHyB,

Ru HHTKe npoAmTbCfl, BepxeTbCH Bepexeny.

CMOxpHM c AHBana, xaK xycH
Dihahx h3 nacxanbHbix KopsHH:
riepBbiH noAx>exaA, BxopoH Bce xhhcxca nHMyanH.

B 6cahom paftoHe HCMepKOM

CepApe nononex: ;ia-na.
BHAHiub, Ha Bo;ie AcpeBbCB Apy^ecxBCHHbie xena?
KaacAoe Moacex xe6e,
Exaa noAOHAex nopa,
MsBACHb xceny h3 pe6pa, poAHXb ahxh h3 6cApa.

Box OAHO — 3aMapauiKa, b BecnyuiKax oho hhh b noHKax?

B HCpBHblX y3AaX, B MOKpwX BCTOHblX HHaXOHKaX,
B XbICHHe MCHKHX XpCipHH, OCHHH HHH UIxpHXOB.
Ha 3XOM yxAy oho acAcx ce6e accHHxoB.
A R HCHaMHOxo CFO 6oxaHC.
H HXO MCHH OXHHHaeX ox?
Khohok SKpana b nycxoH KBapxHpe,
Hyacafl CBaAb6a b npHMOM 34)Hpe,
HoKa He KOHHHHacb nepcAana.
H noBecxb, rryxHyni;aH ox nnana,
KaK 6bi 6yMaacHHK urh schbox.

Box HaA BwHASopcKHM 3aMKOM (J)Har,

06ein;aiomHH 6paHHbix 6Hax.

[130] MAPMX CXEHAHOBA

The Wedding of Prince Charles and
Camilla Parker-Bowles, Broadcast Live
by RTL German TV

I see from the couch, knees pressed

Tight up to my elbows,
Whether the thread will run long, the spindle will spin.
We watch from the couch, the way geese
Gaze out of Easter baskets:
The first limo drove up, the second one’s still stretching.

In a poor German neighborhood

The heart mutters: la-la.
See the friendly bodies of trees set free?
Each one can.
When the time approaches.
Extract a wife from your rib, bear a child from your side.

There’s one tree there — the slob, is it freckled or budding?

In nerve knots, in wet green kerchiefs.
In a thousand tiny cracks, smallpox or brushstrokes.
On this corner it awaits bridegrooms for itself.
But I’m only a little richer than it is.
And what distinguishes me-from?
A scrap of screen in a vacant apartment.
Someone else’s wedding broadcast live.
Until the program has ended.
And the tale, swollen from weeping.
Like a wallet or a belly.

There above Windsor castle is a flag

That promises connubial blessings.

MARIA STEPANOVA [131]

BHflHuib: flBoe. A naM c to6ok) KaKoe Acao,
Paa H3 HHX HH OAHH HC 3MCH, HC rcpOH, He ACBa?
riycTb noxepToe xeno o6pHU];ex Apyroe xe/io.
fl 6bi xoace xoxe;ia xax, xo/ibKO xax 6bi a h xoxena:
rioA 3HaMenaMH BexxHMH — BMecxe — bo rpo6 jm, 6paK.

KpbMbH mJIHH HaA npHHOAHHXblMH 6pOBHMH.

Ha CKaMbHx hoa xopyxBHMH, KaK B ;iecy noA bcxbhmh,

ro;iy6aH h 6e;iaH, cepaH h OTaoBaa
HeHOBenecKaa nnexeHKa MHoroxonoBaa:
Hace npaBeAHHH h ;ik)ah KpoxKoxo Hpaaa —
H36exHH oxHB H BOAbi H B30Hi;iH HanpaBO.
H>Ke xpeuiHHpbi h anepbi oxwAe HancBO.
Bee noiox. Moothx oAHa KopoxceBa.

B OKeaHCKHx npoexopax aanera pyccKoe Bepyto.

H caMa HeBeexa c KpacHWM hhaom noMemHpbi,
C Ao6poxoK) no;iKOBHHu;bi h npaMoxoft expenna,
H caMa HeBeexa xoxce OACxa b eepoe,
H B yMe, KaK b nwra Bopo6bH, h esHexHx h nnemexea,
H expaHHpbi nepeBopaHHBaex pyKa

/KeHPExa.

noHeMy 3XOX 6paK

SaHHMaex He xaK,

KaK eoeeAHHH, ;ik)6oh h mhoxhh?

HeM H HeM aanoraaex nx[on];aAKy a'ih aHanoxHH?
Hxo OH 3HaHHX H MHe 3BeHHX,
BoeXOAH B 3ByKOBOH 3eHHX
HaA xapenKOH xeneBH3HOHHOH,

HaA KBapxa;iOM e;ienoH xookh,

PAe B ;ho6oh nepenjiex okohhhh

[132] MAPMX CXEHAHOBA

You see: a couple. And what business of yours and mine
If neither of them is a serpent, a hero, a maiden?
Let the worn body seek itself out another body.
I’d want the same. I’d want nothing else but that:
Under tattered flags — together — to the grave or to marriage.

The wings of the hats over lifted eyebrows.

On pews under banners, as if in the woods under branches.
Light blue and white, grey and purple
A many-headed basketry of people:
For they are righteous and folk of mild nature —
They have escaped fire and water and climbed to the right.
For the sinners and evil-doers went off to the left.
They are all singing. Only the queen keeps silent.

In the oceanic spaces they struck up a Russian Credo.

And the bride herself, red-faced like a landowner’s wife.
With a colonel’s wife’s good nature and a marksman’s straightness.
And the bride herself is also dressed in grey.
And in sound mind, like sparrows in dust, she both whistles
and splashes.
And the hand of the groom leafs through

The pages.

Why does this marriage

Interest us not in the way
A neighbor’s, anyone’s and many a one do?
By what and by what does it fill the square for analogies?
What does it mean and ring to me.
Arising to the auditory apex
Above the TV satellite dish.
Above the neighborhood of blind melancholy.
Where into any window binding

MARIA STEPANOVA [133]

Tpy6bi BnHuiyxcH saBOflCKH?
Ha CKaMbHx, rne CHAenbu;bi Hai;HH,
fleMOKpau;HH, apHCTOKpauHii —
PoflOBOii URH BHflOBOH,
JI,ej[eraTbi i^HBiMHaai^HH,
flexH Mya h ;iio6HMu;bi rpapHii,
Fonoca H3 HcapHMbix papHH
SaKHHHaiox: flaBaH-AaBaii!

Ho OHH — HHHero HHKOMy He Aaiox,

3xh ABoe.
flonoxonHoe amecme, Kaxoe norox,
(Ba;iHK nniomeBbiH hoa xo;ioboio)
Hm pa6oxaex uenxpoM, h cxbxom, h cchbio.
PaBHOMepHO HCXOAHX oxxyAa xpyxH,
FoAOBbie oxHCXbi, oceHHe-BeceHHHe
Ooxopanopxbi, CBCACHba h AOHeceHbH —
Hpo cxapeHbe ee h ero o6nwceHbe,
BcenapoAHwe, kbk HHpoxH.

Ha Bcex o6paau;oB, KaxoBbie aanocHx b yMW,

Hoa BexaMH Kpyxax, xnaAyx hoa noAyiuKH aHMbi
H aHMbi npoBOAHx b paccxaaax o xom h o xoii,
O >KHaHH HeHameH, HeHacxHoii, ho kak npoxcHxoii! —
C KapMHHHbiM o6peaoM, c ahxohobckhm 6enbiM 6ohkom.
Ha xex, no KOxopwM cuanadbi, kak 6a6bi, penyx,
Ha 6paHHbix 3M6ACM h xbohx, h nyacHx, FoOTHByA,
ScxexHK, noaxHK,
H 6 Bbi6pana axHx,
BexuiaiomHX, BSHyiAHX, b nexHX h acxsx,
Hxo aa pyxy Aepxcax h MaMy aoByx.

[134] MAPHH CXEDAHOBA

The factory chimneys shall be written?
On benches, where the spinsters of the nations,
Of democracies, of aristocracies — ,
Those of family or those of species.
The delegates of civilizations.
Children of muses and favorites of the graces.
Voices from invisible walkie-talkies
Incant; come-along-come-along!

But they — they give no thing to anyone.

These two.
The ancient together, such as they sing
(Resting my head on a plush cylinder).
Works with it as the center, and banner, and covering.
Circles expand from there in regular rhythm.
Annual accounts, autumno-vernal
Photoreports, information and denunciations —
All about her aging and his balding.
Nationwide, like pies.

Of all those models, the sort borne into minds.

They spin under the eyelids, lay winters under the pillow
And spend winters in stories of this man or that woman.
Of a life not-ours, intemperate, but how it’s lived!
With a lipstick edge, with an apple-white side.
From among those the syllables sob for, like old broads.
From emblems of marriage both yours and not-yours, Hollywood,
The aestheticist, the poeticist,
I would choose these.
Going to seed, wilting, in nays and children
Who hold you by the hand and call you mama.

MARIA STEPANOVA [135]

Hs CTbiflHbix ne;ieH flBycnHHHoro aAionbxepa,
Ta6nOHflHbIX CHHMKOB CO CnyTHHU;eiO HCBSpaHHOH,
Bcxaex ecxecxBO, aaKpwxoe, kbk KBapxnpa,
H B nape (|)paHHOH oho, ne b Ofleac^e dpannoH.
H necxb eiay hh npomenna, hh nopyxH,
Hh Bbinnxb BOflbi, hh Bbicnaxbca, hh HceHHXbca,
H uiepcxbK) noKpoioxcfl hoxh ero h pyxH
H naMHXb exo 3a6BeHHCM h nmeHHueH,

M Hexy CMy nomaflbi, h Hex orpasbi,

MaKaBuieMy xne6 HSMenw b bhho HenpaBflbi.

Ho Kxo HenoBeK, h kxo ero nacenHex,

Exo HaayBaex, haox aa hhm, xax aa nnyxoM,
Kax HceHCKoe xeno 6epeMeHHOCxb o6Hynaex,
06boahx xpHAymHH KOHxyp HeapHMbiM xpyxoM,
Hxo6 xecHOMy O exo nanyxpn aanoHHHXb,
A MHe H xe6e exo naBcexsa aanoMHHXb?

SanoMHH 3XOX anpenb h axy aceHHXb6y,

A 6onee Bpo^e nenexo h xcenaxb 6bi:
HeacencxBeHHbie, 6naHceHCXBeHHbie, 6onbniHe,
CxpennHeMbie b oaho, Kax nneno h mex,
C xoxopoH bhaho nexxo, Aaxexo h 6AHxce.
R xax Ha xe6x xnaacy — HHOXAa h BHXcy.

— A xxo HaM yxaacex nyxb h noxex opxa,

Foam cxexxa, BOAy b cxohx cxBOxa?

— ITpoBHHUHanbHax xnyM6a, neBHHHbiH ABex,

KpyxxbiMH BaxnxAaMH CMXxafl, xax 6axHcx,
He6o, aapocmee, xax Hoann Banxncx, —
CnpaBOHHHX, 6ea xaxoxo ne oBohxhcb.

[136] MAPHX CXEBAHOBA

From the shameful wrappings of a two-backed adulterist,
From tabloid shots with a plain-looking companion,
Arises an entity, shut up like an apartment.
And it’s in a tuxedo, not in wedding garh.
And it shall have neither forgiveness, nor hail.
Nor a drink of water, nor a good night’s sleep, nor a wedding.
And its arms and legs shall he covered with fur
And its memory with forgetfulness and wheat.

And it shall have no mercy, no boundary fence.

After dunking betrayal’s bread in the wine of injustice.

But who is a man, and who inhabits him.

Puffs him up, follows after him as if he’s a plough.
As pregnancy reduces the female form to zero.
Traces the coming contour with an unseen circle.
So its cramped O will be filled from within.
And are you and I to remember it forever?

Fix in memory this April and this wedding.

And more than that, it seems, nothing to wish for;
Unfeminine, blissful, big,
Enfortressable in one, like a shoulder and neck.
From which things are easily visible, far away and closer.
That’s how I regard you — and sometimes I see you.

“But who will show us the path and the eagle’s flight.
The years of glass, the water in the tree rings?”

“A provincial flowerbed, an innocent blossom.

Crumpled with round glances, like a lace hankie.
The sky, overgrown, like Johann the Baptist —
A handbook without whose like you can’t get by.”

MARIA STEPANOVA [137]

— A KTO HaM noKa^cT BHyxpeHHOcxb napHKa,
CoH CKOpHHKa, HCBCCXy XOTOCXBKa?
— ABxoBOKsan CO CKBopeuiHeio nocpcAH.
Pe6pa opeiuHHKa, chobho ncanxHpb b xpyflH.
^HKaa naoxb, co6paBinaHCB npopBCcxb —
JlyHUIHH COBCXHHK H3 XCX, HXO HCXy H CCXb.

B BeCCHHHH CyMpaK
Ilofl rpyaoM cyMOK
C CAOK), KynacHHOH BnpoK.
M MOii CO MHOIO, H MOH CO MHOK) CypOK.

... A KaK Bce 3X0 kohhhxcb, KaMHH cxonaxcH,

OxxoBopHx K poipHpa, H npopoHHpa,
ABX0M06HHH BXHHyxcH xapaacaMH,
Focxh — BOK3a;iaMH, 3a;iaMH, axaacaMH,
Illnanw — Kopo6KaMH, chm h CHxapbi — pxaMH,
Bce noMCKHroxcB inydaMH h MecxaMH,
B Hac, Koxfla 6yflex mo>kho Bce xo, hxo xohcxch,
C BexxoH eflHHofi-nTOXH oflexcflbi c6pocHB,
Hxo OHH CflCTtaiOX? CHHB y6op H3 KOJIOCbCB
C ^eHCKoil poflHoii ceAeiomeii roaoBw?
Jlflryx ;ie>Kaxb Kax new
H
Byflyx nexeaxb, xax nbBw.

[138] MAPM3 CXEDAHOBA

“And who will show us the inside of the wig,
The dream of a furrier, bride of a bachelor?”
“The bus station with the starling house amidst.
The hazel-grove’s ribs, like a psaltery in the chest.
Wild flesh, gathered together to flourish —
The best advisor of those who are not and are.”

In the spring twilight

Laden with handbags
With food, bought to keep in store.
And mine with me, and with me my own marmot.

... But that’U all end, the stones will wear away.
The little grove will resound, and the prophetess.
The automobiles will stretch into their garages.
The guests — by stations, halls, the floors of buildings.
The hats — to boxes, dreams and cigars into mouths.
Everyone will exchange fur coats and places.
In the hour when everything you’d like is possible.
Doffing the raiment of the worn-out one-flesh.
What will they do? doffing the wheat-ear decoration
From the woman’s dear graying head?
They’ll lie down to lie like dogs
and
They’ll lie like lions.

MARIA STEPANOVA [139]

U3 20 CoHexoB K M

KMcme

2.

Moh Apyr, Moii nyx, moh see - oxBOCBa/i.

C;iaraio pyKH, hto ohkobm AyacKH,
Ha acHBOxe, b CMHpeHHH cxapyiuKH,
KaKyio yac ne SBaxb na cenoBaa.
Ho acACM-noacacM, h npbir b raaaa HHBapb.
flBC acHan MbiniKH na oflHoii MaKyuiKC.
flBC BapeacKH, abc cxpyacKH, abc noApyacKH.
OAHa H3 HHx oxMeaeHa. ^Boab.

Eh Ha KOHe aBaaaca caMoaexHHK,

CbiH B03Ayxa B o6aHHHH Mbima.
C oxHCM B raaaax h KpwabaMH mypma,
Oh xohho Moab CKBoana na caMOBapaHK,
H, CMbicaa: noaeay h noaHio,
Paoxaa cxaKaHbi acapa h aaio.

6.
TaM npH CBeae, Kaonacb na noA3epKaabHHK,
Haxaa Mbiuib BbicaeacHBaex bha
Bc3aK)AHbix xaa3, ymeft HCMyabiKaabHbix,
MopmHHKH MaacHbKHX o6ha.
To Ha ce6a npHKpHKHCx, xaK naaaabHHK,
HepeMCHHexca, npHKpoa cxbiA —

[140] MAPMa CXEHAHOBA

from 20 Sonnets to M

to my mother

2.

My ghost, my host, my everything died at war.

I lay my arms down, like earpieces of glasses.
On the belly, in the calm of an old woman.
The kind no one will call into the hayloft.
But wait-we’ll-wait, and jump! January’s at hand.
Two mousies lived on a single summit.
Two mittens, two wood shavings, two girlfriends.
One of them has a mark. Jawohl.

To her a planeman appeared on a horse.

Son of the air in semblance of a mouse.
With fire in his eyes and rustling his wings.
Just like a moth he drafted to the samovar.
And figuring “I’ll fly off and I’ll repose,”
He gulped down cups of fever and of tea.

6.
There by candlelight, leaning to the mirrorsill,
A naked mouse is searching for the semblance
Of unpeopled eyes, of unmusical ears.
The little wrinkles of small hurt feelings.
Then she will shout at herself, like a boss.
She changes, making to hide her shame —
M, MopcM BcnflTb, OHa yxoflHT B cnanbHHK,
M Bflojib xBOCTa, KaK 6eper, cnHT.

— A HTO-nOHTO HeTHT XOnOAHOH MrnOH?

— Ynbipb KpbmaTbiii c MbiuiKOH Mo;iOflOH —
Ha 6paBHbiH nnp, na nnp BCHBaBbHbifi.
— A KTO-noKTO B SBCSflax H npH Jiyne?
— KpbijiaxbiH Mbim Ha xofi bohhc, BoiiHe,
Bohhc npom;anbHoeH, nenanbROH.

7-
— Bo3BbIXOHCy, KaK MCCHU, H3 XyMBHa,
n^biBy, KHBaa, no cxene.

R xox KoMy, KoxopoMy BHHMana,

O Mbinib, B HOHHOM H B XHHIHHe.
R nycxoxa nocneflHero KapMana,
R HOC, KynaeMbiii b bhhc,
flBOHHHK xHpana, 6esHOBHK poMana,
HacHCflHHK Koneit h rBHHeit.

To Hoxadene, nxo b xbocm noAMbinibe,

KaK 3HaK OXHHHHH, H aHbIM BbIHIbK),
CMCxaHHbiM ocxpoBOM B 6opn;e.
H 6yflemb xbi — papn ... H Bce acMHoe
R ABM xe6e, h nonexHM co mhoio
3a o6naKaMH, b xe neme ...

[142] MAPWa CXEHAHOBA

And, like tide turning, she goes to her sleeping bag.
And sleeps, like the shore, alongside her tail.

“And what is that, that flies like chilly gloom?”

“A winged vampire with a young little mouse —
To the wedding feast, to the feast of marriage.”
“And who is that who in the stars and by moonlight?”
“A winged mouse who’s at that war, that war.
The farewelling and sorrowful war.”

7-
I rise and emerge like the moon from mist,
I sail, nodding, along the wall.
I’m that To Whom to which I raptly listened,
0 Mouse, in the nocturnal and in silence
1 am the emptiness of the final pocket,
I am the nose dipped into guilty wine,
A tyrant’s double, poor draff of a novel
The heir of spears and Guineas.

That notabene tucked under your armpit

As a distinctive sign. I’ll stitch it scarlet.
With a sour-cream island in the borscht.
And you will be — tsars ... And all that’s earthly
I’ll give to you, and you’ll come fly with me
Beyond the clouds, into those cav...

MARIA STEPANOVA [143]

8.
BoflHu;a cnea c6eraeT Ha acHBOx.
ilsbiK o6nH3biBaex m;eKH.
M KpyaccBO nynKa caMO acHBex,
Bpacxaex b 6ok, cMcacaex okh,
H, KaK cocKH, npocHyaHCfl nopoKH
H HapaBHe npoxaxHBaiox pox,
H oropoH CBcpmaex o6opox
H ypoacaft poflHx na coanpencKe.

H HyMaenib: aancM He Haxxnraab

R xyxopcKoit, H 6es nponncKH xyxa?
SaaeM a sepxHKaabHO npoxHHyxa,
A Bor MCHH, KaK peKy, nacxHraa?
H a aoacycb b KaHasy k BopanoMy,
H a Kaacycb OKOuiKy caiopanoMy.

9-
Ecxb cxapHKH, H K HHM cxapyxH ecxb,
A K HHM OXOXHHHbH, C (J)a3aHOM, UiaaHbl.
LlepKOBHbi Kpecaa h eaoBw aanbi

H BaropHa, KOxopwMH He aeaxb.

CMeniHaa Mbiuib b naaxxe cxohx kbk nepcx.

B ee poxoHKe cbip. IIopapoK nanw.
Eipe B aBxo6yce XBaxaex Mecx.
H apana — na naabxo h3 apana,

Kyaa acBaxb Bac, aoKXH h naeaa.

H xae6 h3 xocxepa, aarpoxoaa,
Baaexaex a6oM, KaK 6bi rayxapb c aepHHKH,

[144] MAPHa CXEnAHOBA

8.
A dribble of tears runs down onto my belly.
My tongue licks off my cheeks.
And the lace of the stocking lives of itself,
Grows into my side, closes my eyes.
And, like nipples, vices have awakened
And each one sticks its mouth out equally.
And the kitchen garden takes a turn
And bears the harvest where the sun is baking.

And you think: why am I not a village

Nachtigal, and mulberry without a pass?
Why am I stretched out vertically.
And God has caught up with me, like a river?
And I bed down in a canal to the water spirit.
And I show myself to the mica window.

9-
There are old men, and old women to match them.
And, sewn to match, they have their hunting hats.
Church armchairs and fir branches
And hillocks you can t clamber up.
The funny mouse in a scarf stands up like a thumb.
There’s cheese in her little mouth. A gift from papa.
There are still plenty of seats in the bus.
And enough drape to make a thick wool coat.

Where you may be stuck, elbows and shoulders.

And bread from the toaster, staring to rumble.
Flies straight out, like a grouse from the brambles.

MARIA STEPANOVA [145]

H TH>KeTO, neraHH mc>k flepcB,
JIcTHT, ;ieTHT — HanpaB mm HajiCB.
... H TOCTepa ne noHHHHXH.

10.

Eme HCKaxb MwuiHHbix »cepe6poB?

DiHfleTbCH B nony3epKanbu,e 6oxHHKa?
O Mbic/tCHHaa MbiniKa, o KapxHHKa,
BjiHSHeu; h3 BeponxHwx Bjihshcliob.
BoKpyr ce6n Kpyacaca xax naacxHHKa,
CaMy ce6fl xaK AcpBHiu yxaHu;o-
-BbiBafl, BaiKHO BbirH6an cnwHKy —
H OCXaHOBHIUbCH nepCA KpbIAbU,OM.

— H MopreHiiixepH KaaaAca ell aBpopa.

H JIopeAHH Ha 3XHX 6eperax.
H Bce Ay6bi HOCAeAHero naBopa.
... Bes HAHioniKH, 6c3 CHa, 6e3 ryBepnepa..
H Bce coAAaxbi b CAaBHbix canorax.
To BCKaHb, xo HaB3HHHb. HaA H Ha CHerax.

EABa coHAy c BoxaaAa, h hoa awx

KyAaK B03AyiHHbill: Bce xo6oio cwxo,
LiBexbi B ropiHKax, h xe xoaobkh cwpa,
H BeAHbiH KpeHAeAb b cabakhx sanHXbix.
H xonexcA cxpaxHyxb ceBn, kbk b chxo,
TyAa — uihhohom o6ohaa hocxm, —

[146] MAPMA CXEHAHOBA

And heavily, snagging between the trees,
It flies, it flies — to the righ or to the lef.
... And that toaster is not to be repaired.

lO.

To search more for the mouses colts?

To regard myself in the shoe’s half-mirror?
O little mental mouse, o petty picture.
Twin from among the probable twins.
Around yourself spinning just like a record.
Dancing your own self silly like a der­
vish, pompously bending your little back —
And you’ll stop when you reach the porch.

“And she took the Morgenstern for the aurora.

And Lorelei on these banks here.
And all the oak trees of the final levy.”
... With no dear nanny, with no sleep, no tutor ...
And all the soldiers in their boots of glory.
First gallop, then fall face down. Over and on the snows.

11.

I’m hardly down from the station, and under my brea

An airy fist: it’s all sated with you.
The flowers in pots, and those little heads of cheese.
And the poor pretzel between its sugared commas....
And I want to shake myself, as if through a sieve.
Over there — to evade checkpoints like a spy —

MARIA STEPANOVA [147]

r^e Tbi, nonoHKOH nepHoio yKpbixa,
BjiaaceHHO AbiiuHiub b na^HXHx nycxwx.

Tenepb aepacy, Kax i^apcKyio, omyio,

BoTibuiOH Kanycxbi ronoBy 6oBbmyio,
XouMbi, Hafl6poBbH B aencHOH jihcxbc.
Ha 6;iiofle, xax no nnomann, nouiy n
Becb 3XOX K)x c X060K) na xnaae,
Becb 3XOX pan, hxo cxan xe6e — /ia4)ex.

15-
il naMHXHHK BOSflBHX, H -Ba, H -Hy.
B MbimHHOH HOpKe, B BCXXOCM >KHnHLU;e,
H Ha pHcxaaHme, h na KaaflBHme,
Ffle HH 6bina, xy^a hh noMHHy.
Xoxb sa pyxy OflHy, xBoro, poAHy,
flepacaxHCB na 3xom nenenHme,
Ffle Koe-nmo bo mhc HaxoflHx nnn;y,
A H ce6ii, xax nHnu,y, npoxany.

Kax nHUAbi paaBeacaBHiHHCH naHAma4)x.

Kax B cxenH — oBesyMeBninii nomax.
Kax B cexH — coilxa, h c xpbinbpa — HCBccxa.
BencHX boaa c Haropnoro nena.
Flycxbie my6bi npanyxcH b nynaH.
H MecxHOCXH MCHflrox Mecxo.

[148] MAPH8 CXEHAHOBA

Where you, concealed by a black horse-blanket,
Blissfully respire in fallow pastures.

Now I hold the big head of a big cabbage.

As if a tsar’s huge orb, in my left hand.
The hills, the overbrows in green foliage.
On a platter, as if through the square, I bear
This whole South with you in the vanguard.
All this paradise that’s become your headstone.

15-
I raised a monument, and do raise, and will.
In a mousehole, a fragivoluminous dwelling.
And on the field of honor, and in a graveyard.
Wherever I was, no matter where I mention to.
Though by the one hand, yours, dearest.
To hold on to atop this mound of ash.
Where a certain something in me finds nourishment.
And I hold myself out, like a slice of pizza.

A landscape run off in all directions, like pizzi.

Like in the steppe — a hinny that’s gone mad.
Like a jay in a net, and a bride off the porch.
The water runs down from the mountain’s brow.
Empty fur coats hiding in the storeroom.
And locations trading places.

MARIA STEPANOVA [149]

i6.
BsfloxHH o MHe, 6biBa7iaH oxpafla,
B 3BH>KeHHH cepflCHHbix ys
^HBonHcyiomeH cthhom noMaAH
JIhctw noflCxaB/ieHHbie ycx.
H OKO pacniHpflioui,eH ahh BsxjiHfla,
H flbimameH, xaK BoaMymeHHbiH Kycx,
H najibpeB HenocnyiunHBoe cxaflo
C>KHMaiomeH B Ky/ra^HbiH xpycx.

M TCJIO MHpa HSMCHHilOCb. MbI >K

C Xo6oii OflHH, O MblUIb MOB H MbllUb.
B BK)6HMbIH ropofl, CHHHii AbIM Khxbb,
B flaaeKHH Kpaii xoBapwip ynexax.
JIio6bie c/iacxH mobcho ynnexaxb.
H 6ec B pe6pe kbk sanHxaH.

17-
SacHcaceHHbiH, c BopoHofl na Hocy,
C FB03AHK0H nOfl ByxyHHOIO nBXOIO,
SI HcxyicaH Kax flCBOHKy necy
H Kax xpyAHyro xpyAHX) nHxaro.
C xycxoro He6a xonbpaMH nHxona
Oh pHHexcB b noByncHHOM nacy
M ynecex, BSHCcex cbok) xpacy
Kax MOBOxo Ha AOHbimxe 6HflOHa.

flBC BCHHH MbimXH, HO OflHa— C HCHaXXOH.

^BeBCHHH MbIHIXH, HO OflHa — OAHCH.
npHcxpacxHbiii BosAyx 6bin ee nepnaxxoH.

[150] MAPHB CXEHAHOBA

i6.
Sigh over me, O my former rejoicing,
In the movement of the cardiac fetters
Lifedrawing in the medium of lipstick.
The leaves of lips uplifted for a kiss.
And the eye of one who widens to regard.
And of a breathing one, like a shrub disturbed.
And the disobedient flock of the fingers
Of one who squeezes them in a fist’s crack.

And the body of the world has changed. While you

And I are alone, O my mouse and a mouse.
To the beloved city, China’s indigo smoke.
To the distant region my comrade flew aw.
Any sweets at'all may become involved.
And a demon in the rib like a comma.

17-
Covered in snow, with a crow on his nose.
With a carnation beneath his iron heel,
I carry the idol like a little girl
And breast-feed it like a nursing infant.
From the thick sky in a python’s spiral
He lunges at the hour of noon
And will carry off, carry up his beauty
Like milk on the very bottom of a milkcan.

There lived two mice, but one — with a special seal.

There lived two mice, but one of them was aloner.
The prejudiced air was a glove for her.

MARIA STEPANOVA [151]

B TyMaHe CHrapexHbi aBxoMaTbi,
Kax flBe pyKH, ho 6hh>khhh — poHHeil.
M AepcBa iiyHHHOio KOCMaxbi.

i8.
Die Seek fliegt, kbk Wolkchen nepes xyn.
CKy/[bnxypHLi,eio hobhw naBHcaflbi.
rioBbiine BHHorpaflHHK noBocaxbiH,
Kax 6bi Maxpac, npoBecHBuiHitcH c xpyn.
A CBbiiue, aanaBemeH napycaMH,
CaM-caMoaexHX oxoto ^exyn,
Kax cepbiil bobx rpeMyHHMH ;iecaMH.
H, onHpaacb Ha HesepHbiH jiyn,

Bcxaex 6onbHoil co CBoero oapa.

M B cepflpe BbiHflex oxo;io pe6pa,
Kax B aaMXH, danke.
M Meflcecxpa b BocxpecHOM napnxe,
Kax nou,e/iyH, ocxanexcH b apanxe
HaBexH aaiviypoBana, xax b xanxe.

19-
IlHXHaflpaxoe, noxoxb HHBapa.
Bananbi na xeneacxe MaraaHHHOH.
Cefl HOC H pox, odHXbie pesHHoil,
Kax flBa nponoHu,bi, rayxo roBopax.
Box 3X0 CHer, hxo6 noxoflHXb na SHMbi.
Ero cocxaB hhxxo ne npoBepaa.

[152] MAPHa CXEnAHOBA

In the haze of the cigarette machine,
Like two hands, but the close one was dearest.
And the matted trees forming an abyss.

i8.
Die Seele fliegt, like Wolkchen through the clouds.
The palisades are full of a sculpturess.
Higher up is the striped vineyard.
As if a mattress, hanging off the cliffs.
And from higher, curtained with the sails,
A pied pilot is airbornely around.
Like a grey wolf through the rumbling forests.
And, leaning onto an uncertain ray.

The sick one stands up from his bier.

And the danke, just like in Go Fish,
Comes out in the heart around the rib.
And the nurse in the resurrected wig.
Like a kiss, will remain in the eye’s apple
Walled in forever, like inside a tank.

19-
The fifteenth, the elbow of January.
Bananas on the barrow at the store.
This nose and mouth, with rubber upholstered.
Are speaking muffledly, like two dead drunks.
This here is snow, to make it resemble winters.
No one has made sure of its composition.

MARIA STEPANOVA [153]

riaay H H B OTKpbiTbie ABepa
H Ka6;iyKaMH 6yAy ynocHMa.

Ho (J)OKCTepbep bcaom no caeny nncbio,

Honsex nopon, npoHyHBaex nncTbH,
M, Abi6oM BcxaBuiH, yanaio,

KaK 4>aBHa ahk »hboh h ocTpoyxHii,

C AHCTBOH na ronoBe — aepKan bo 6pioxe —
Bonbrnyio roxtOBy cboio.

20.

flBe yKwm mmuikh bo oahom xasy.

KaK H H H, KaK Mma h xac ace KpyacKa.
Fony6Ka Mbiuib, nopyniKa Mbinib ... H KpbiuiKa.
H fl OAHa no HHXOHKe nonay.
Flnnapb, n ne6o ne CMorao — rpoay,
Hh Bbirnaxb nxHA na ncBnyio onyniKy,
H Bce, nxo h snoacy b yniKO n yniKO,
Cyxb KopHAop, KoxopwH nporpbiay.

[154] MAPna CXEBAHOBA

I’ll fall too into the open doorwaze
And be carriable away by passing heels.

But the fox terrier leadable on a fox path,

It crawls through the lair, it smells right through the leaves.
And, standing up on end, I recognize.

Like a fauns visage, living and sharp-eared

With foliage on its head — in the mirrors’ belly —
My own big head.

20.

There lived two mice in a single basin.

Like I and I, like gloom and where the mug.
A dovey mouse, a little-nest mouse ... And the end.
And I alone am crawling on a thread.
January, and the sky couldn’t manage — thunder.
Nor chase the birds out to the singing verge.
And all that I put in my ear and the needle’s
Are the corridor, which I’ll gnaw through.

MARIA STEPANOVA [155]

Cappa Ha BappHKa^ax

1.

Toji; TbiCHHa acehtbcot khtb.

B Konbi6ej[flx yace He cnflxb.

OxKpbiBaioT raaaa, paaysaiOT pyHOHKH,
PaaesaiOT 6e33y6bie pxbi
Te, Kxo B BaxoHe, kbk Fehaoh b 6oHOHKe,
Ax Hex, KaK cenbSH b cenbflHHOM 6oHOHKe,
rioKaxflx B aaiLbHHe cbipxw.

Hafl HHMH B TaM6oBe h EftcKe

B xoHCxax oflHHaHbix nopxbep
BsAbixaiox xyMaHHbie MaMbi eBpeficKH
(HeMeu,KHe pyccKHe noHbCKHe hhh ...)
H nepeneHb AexcKHX (J)aMHHHH
Kax CHHCOK BOCHHblX Hoxepb.

Hx 6yflyiH;He flaMOHKH nonpyacKH

riepenoHHHiox fleAOBCKHe npecna,
B HxonbHbie aaxHHAbiBaiox yniKH,
Beflymne b HeBe^oMbie Hpesa.

(CMeuiHOH aecoK Boxpyx CMemnoro cpaMa

KypnaB, xaK paMa.
Hafl HHM BHxaiox aanaxH sanaxha,
O HHX MonnaxH.
EH],e — xyMaHbi cyna h Kjioaexa.
H aaroHOBKH 6Hp>KeBOH raaexbi,
Oahh 3BOHOK, BaroH Bxoporo Macca,
Cneaa h KHHKca.)

[156] MAPMX CXEHAHOBA

Sarra on the Barricades

The year nineteen-oh-five.

In cradles they’re no longer slipping.
They open their eyes, unshoe their wee hands,
Yawn wide their toothless mouths.
The ones in the train car, like Guidon in the barrel.
Ah no, like herrings in a herring barrel.
Will roll off to the distant syrts.

Above them in Tambov and Yeysk

In the canvases of feral portieres
The foggy mamas sigh Jewishly
(German Russian Polish or ...)
And the roll-call of children’s last names
Is like a list of war casualties.

Their future little dame girlfriends

Overfill their grandfathers’ loins.
Glance into the eyes of needles
That lead into ineffable wombs.

(The silly grove around the silly genitals

Is curly, like a frame.
Above it soar the odors of conception.
One must say nothing of them.
Besides — the fogs of soup and the WC.
And headlines of the stock report.
One bell, a second-class train car,
A tear and an inkblot.)

MARIA STEPANOVA [157]

R 3Haio, a 3Haxb 6m hc Hano,
Hto 3TH Bceo6m,He poflM,
PHTMHHHbie, KaK KaHOHafla —
RBJieHHe HOBOH nopoflbl.
Hto b 3TH 6eccoHHbie aio;ibKH

3hHIOT OTBCpCTbie JIIOKH.

Hto b ACMorpa^JHHHOM npH6oe
Khhht h matctch nio6oe.

JlK)6aH 6y;ibBapHaH Mapxa

Hmccx noxoacHC CKnajiKH,
rioA Ka>KAOK) k)6koio Kapxa —
YcxynHHBblH, o6AaHHbIH, XAaAKHH
JIaHALua(J)x, yxoAHLAHH noA aca
Ha FOAM H foam BnepcA.

HoBepx noAaFaroxcH KaAbKofi

Caoh noBpeMCHHbix co6mxhh,
CneKxaKAeii h KpoBonpoAHXHH;
Ho cepAPy hacx napoxoA
Ha xpHApaxb acbaxofo FOAa.
A B FopAC — h/6 — 6appHKaAa.
Ha Koeit npa6a6yiuKa Cappa
— a FAa3, HaKaHyHe noA6HXbiH,
noBH3aH KpyacKOM no-nHpaxcKH —
H CaHbKa, H Cappa CBepAAOBa
cxoAx 3a pa6oHHH HapoA.

[158] MAPMA CXEDAHOBA

I know, but better not to know,
That these omnicommon births.
Rhythmic as cannonades.
Mean the appearance of a new breed.
That in these sleepless cribs
Split-open hatches gape.
That in the demographic breakers
Anything at all boils and thrashes.

Any main-street Martha

Has reminiscent wrinkles.
Under each skirt a map —
A yielding, overcast, smooth
Landscape, departing under the ice
For years and years in advance.

Layers of temporary events.

Performances and blood-lettings
Are applied on top like tracing-paper;
A steamship goes along the heart
From nineteen thirty-nine.
And in the throat — wh/b — the barricade.
Whereon great-grandmother Sarra
— with her eye, blackened last night,
bandaged by a piratical circle —
both Sahka and Sarra Sverdlova
stand up for the working folk.
2.

Hao 6cex e aemne neMaw,ux, aanpoKunye no6,

Pent) MOW 6 yme depMatu,ux CK603b cochoouu epo6,
UepecunaHHUx kuk Mauxa e danxy xcecmMHy,
B zopodcKOM cady uepax, eu6epy odny:

B GejiOK mnane, c noflpyra h npyr,

Ha a;ibnHHCKOH xpone,
Fac CTOACTbe cropaex KaK xpyx,
HccHKaex b xoAne;
JlexHHM ahcm b JIioKceM6yprcKOM caAy,
Fac MapHB Cxioapx,
Fac h h Hepes bck nocxoio
H CACAbi He cxHpaxb;
Shmhch HOHbio BHab(J)paHma-ciop-Mep
HpoBOAcaa oxhh.
B Hexep6ypxe b xiopbMe,
Box, B3XHHHH.

Pa36HpaflCb B 6ioBape
Ha MOCKOBCKOii KBapxHpe.
Ha HoKpoBCKOM 6yAbBape.
B KOMMynaAbHOM copxHpe.
B 6oAbHHHHOH HaAaxe
B 6enoM xanaxe —
OcymecxBAflfl npHCM.

Tenepb — xoAbKO b nepene xecHOM mocm.

C AOHKOH.
C BHyHKOH.
C npaBHyHKOH mhoh.
OeMHHHCxcKoro CBOAa AacxoHKa xyHKa.
KoBHera acchckoxo Hoii.

[160] MAPHa CXEHAHOBA

2.

Of all those lying in the earth, foreheads tipped back,

Who hold my speech in mind through the pine casket,
Poured like farina into a can of tin.
In the city garden playing I’ll choose one:

In a white hat, with girl and boy friend,

On an alpine path.
Where a century burns out like tinder.
Scatters in the crowd:
On a summer’s day in the Luxembourg Garden,
Where Mary Stuart stands.
Where I too a century hence will stand for a bit
And the traces shall not be erased;
On a winter’s night Villefranche-sur-Mer
Following the lights.
In the prison in Petersburg,
There, take a look.

Sorting through the blotting-pad

In a Moscow apartment.
On Pokrovsky Boulevard.
In the communal cesspool.
In a hospital ward
In a doctor’s white gown —
Realizing the rounds.

Now — just in my own cramped skull.

With her daughter.
With her granddaughter.
With her great-granddaughter me.
The stormcloud swallow of feminist skies.
Noah of a female ark.

MARIA STEPANOVA [l6l]

H Korfla OHa BennaeT 6appHKafly,
H He 6y^y o6HaacaTb efi pyKH-rpysH,
Ho H cJ)HaroM npHKpbiBaxb ee He 6yny,
HoTOMy HTO Hex xaKoro 4>-^ara.
H HH KpaCHblH pBeX, HH CHHe-6e/IbIH
He roAHTCH saa xaKoro fleaa.

Tenepb na ne6ecax aaBOAHx pasHO

CBo6oAa, dappHKaaa, neMOKpaxHa.
H Cappa FHH36ypx hm — kbk AeMOHCxpau,Ha
(BosMoacHO, HaanaaenHa hooshh?)
Xoxa aio6aa noA3a6opHaa aKai;Ha
flaa 3XHX Aca AOCxynneH h noaeanee.

... HO Hx yace hohxh He paaanaHXb.

H ecaH Gappy nepecxaBHXb b BOAy
HaH aKapHeft aaBecHXb dappHKapy —
Oaho HHcao (HCHHcaeHHoro ropa)
B KOHpe aaaaaHHKa HMeeM noayaHXb.

[162] MAPMa CXEHAHOBA

And when she crowns the barricade,
I shall not bare her arms and breasts,
But neither will I drape her with a flag.
Because there’s no such flag.
And neither the color red, nor the white and blue
Are suited to such a task.

Now in the heavens they turn on Radio

Free Europe, there’s a barricade, democracy.
And to them Sarra Ginsburg’s like a demonstration
(Maybe, of the point of poetry?)
Although any acacia under a fence
Is more useful and accessible for such purposes.

... but now you can hardly tell them apart.

And if Sarra is put into a vase
Or the barricade is curtained with acacia —
We are to receive one date (of a totaled
year) at the end of the workbook.

MARIA STEPANOVA [163]

^eHCKan Paa^eBa^fiKa K/ry6a «ri/[aHeTa OHTHec»

06u];ero HHHero, KpoMe xenna h raepcxH,

OflHHaKHX K;iIOHeH H flCBAXH OXBCpCXHH,
HanonHfleMMX hcm? BjiaroH, cnacxbio, xobhom;
HaKpbiBaeMbix pxoM; aaKpwBaeMbix chom.
BbincKaiomHx: xpoBb, cnesbi, flexeii h cepy.
OKpyxcaiomHx: cyxb vum nyacyio nnoxb.
O flCBAXH CBOHX R 3axo:»cy H ce;ia
CHHXb. riocxoHJia 6bixb. H HanpaBHHiocb nnwxb.

Po30Bbi H >KeOTbi, KpynHbie kbk MnaflCHpbi,

FonbimoM — naxHuioM — no yum b nonoxenpe —
CxaHKH flCBOAepcB nepeccKaiox non.
Kancfloe bxoahx b nym, xomho CKnonna cxBon.
Hyncno, kbk bhaw bhh h copxa KyponaxoK,
To nn KnaccH(J)Hu;H, xo nn nonio6onbi:
Box nnacxHHbi Kmonnu;; box napyca nonaxoK.
Hyxcno 3anecxb b peecxp KancAbiii noflx>CM cxonbi.

Cxopo xaKHX He cxanex. Cxopo flocxaBHX CMeny.

Sflecb nepexHHyx 6apxax, xaM nepecxpoax cuieny,
Ha conexanbe kocxh, Koncn n nepHbix koc
Bynyx AHBHXbCH rocxn, ne npana cnea.

BnpOK MOnOAOH-KpaCHBblH
Hnn flypnoH-xopomnn
B flexcKOM easy nrpaex:
Tporaex xbok) cnHBy,
npnnamaexcH rpyme,
Bony pxoM co6npaex:

[164] MAPHa CXEnAHOBA

The Womens Changing Room at “Planet Fitness”

There’s nothing shared, besides the warmth and wool,

Identic keys and the nine openings,
Tillable with what? with damp, delight, and shit;
Covered with the mouth; closed up with sleep.
Clotted: blood, tears, children and sulfur.
Surrounding: the essence or a stranger’s flesh.
With my own nine I drop by and sit down
To strip. Stood to be a bit. And I set off to float.

Rosy and yellow, plump as infants.

Bare — naked — in a towel down to the ears —
The flocks of tree-maidens slice through the floor.
Each goes into the shower, languidly drooping its trunk.
It needs, like types of wine and breeds of partridges.
Either a classifica-, or just curiosi-:
There the collarbone layers; there the shoulderblade sails.
Each lift of the sole must be logged in the register.

Soon there’ll be no more such. Soon they’ll find a second shift.

Here they’ll stretch velvet across, there they’ll rebuild a stage.
For the collocation of bone, skin and black plaits
The guests will marvel, not hiding their tears.

Benefit for the young-handsome

Or the ugly-good
Plays in the kindergarten:
Touches your plum.
Communes in the pear.
Collects water in its mouth:

MARIA STEPANOVA [165]

Be3CB«3Haji, pe3Hafl nacneAyex 3HMa,
M 6paxa ne yanaer acHBOxHoe yMa.
3xox cxo;i6 boahhoh MO»cex cxaxb bcabhoh,
PaayM aapaaoH h B03Ayx raaoM,
rony6KH-JIlo6KH COMKHyXOK) CXCHOH
SaMapiuHpyiox no naBaaaM.
M ABepb, Hxo oxKpwBaAacb na nnaBaxenbHbin Ky6,
OxKpoexcfl na Manocxb, KaK annnep na 6oKy.
M BbicxynHM h3 xanoK, KoponoK n nacoB,
Ms cononoacHbix xpanoK, Horxen n xobocob.

M B H03Apn, pxbi H yum, KaK c nailHHKa abimok,

To/mon noBanax AyinH.
CopBaBmne 3aMOK.

Ho, KaK B mKO/ie ucchoh, Bce ace myianx naanmeK

KpeMOB, ycx h bouoc, Mbimi^ h noAMbimeK.
Asxoaaxap n cxma, cbobho ancHAbi nop,
Ha noBepxHOcxb xeaa xnaA^x b OKyaapw nop.
Ho, KaK B CKOXCKOM BaxoHe, XAe b xecnoxe n MaxoM,
BpoAHx KBaApaxbi napa n Aournn boh,
Henpecxynnoe, ne6o cxanoBHxca 6paxoM.
H Kxo-xo noex b AynicBon.

B nnonepaarepax, b chhhx xpycax moaa.

To ynnpaacb, xo noAHHMafl (|)aax,
HepBoe a, nacynaennoe, KaK nyaa,
,ri|eaaex nepBbin max.
H XMypa neilaaac, KaK MHyx b KyaaKe 6yMaxy,
Hohxh ne6ecaMH raaacy na nexo. H aary,
KaK xa mapoBaa Moanna, na noaa —
B OAHH o6opox pyaa.

[166] MAPna CXEnAHOBA

Incoherent, whittled winter will inherit,
And animal reason won’t recognize its brother.
This watery column can turn to ice.
Reason to infection and the air to gas,
Lovey-Doveys in a close-ranked wall
Will start to march through the sheds.
And the door that used to open on the swimming gob.
Will open a wee bit, like a zipper on the hip.
And we’ll step out of slippers, crowns and watches.
Out of our complaced rags, nails and voices.

And once they’ve torn off the lock, a crowd of souls will pour
into our nostrils, mouths and ears
like a steampuff from a teapot.

But, like in forest school, the excess of creams.

Mouths and hair, muscles and underarms keep rustling.
Shame and the autotan, just like a vixen’s lair.
Regard the body’s surface through lenses of pores.
But like in a cattle car where, cramped and with profanity.
Quadrants of steam and the long wail wander.
Untrespassing, the sky becomes a brother.
And someone in the shower room sings.

In Pioneer camps, in the indigo shorts of July,

First dipping, then lifting the flag.
The first I, brow-knitted, like a bullet.
Takes the initial step.
And squinting the landscape, the way a fist crumples paper,
I regard him almost like the skies. And 111 lie down.
Like that ball lightning, on the fields —
With one turn of the wheel.

MARIA STEPANOVA [167]

HeTHHK

Korfla OH BepHyncH oxxyAa, Kyna,

Bo cHe OH KpHHa;i h 6om6uji xopofla,
H AyxH KasajiHCb eMy,
KypHXb OH BcxaBan, h okho oxKpbiBa;i,
CoBMecxHbie xpanKH neacann BnaBaa,
H fl B xcMHOxe co6Hpaaa cyivry,

Ho smo ew,e umezo.

Konaxb npHycafle6HbiH Ham oropofl,

CCMCHHOXO poaa npHKOpM H flOXOA,
He cxa;i oh h mhc sanpexmi.
He fla;i h npHxpaxHBaxbCH k OBomaM.
Oxi>e;iCB, o3;ien, osBepeA, oxom,aA
H caM caMOKpyxKH KpyxHA.

Ho MU3Hb npodoAMana ce6fi.

Korfla AC oh BepnyACH oxxy^a, Ky^a

TpaACflaHCKoro (|)AOxa Aexaiox cyna,
C 3ao6AaHHbix He6eceii,
KoFAa OH BepnyACH oxxy^a coBceM,
Kax flexH, Koxopwe MaMxy coccm,
Mbi 6biAH 6ecnoMom;Hbi Bce.

Ho amo eine Hunezo.

A xaM, BbicoKO, 3a mxypBaAOM noiox,

Jlexfl cxioapfleccbi bhho noflaiox,
TeneACKH xaxHx no paflaM,

[168] MAPHA CXEHAHOBA

The Pilot

when he returned from there, where,

He yelled in his sleep and dropped bombs on cities.
And ghosts would appear to him.
He would get up to smoke, and would open the window.
The shared rags lay there in a heap.
And in the dark I gathered my bundle.

But that isn’t anything yet.

Digging our garden by the farm.

Food and income for our whole family;
He wouldn’t, and he wouldn’t let me.
Wouldn’t let me touch any vegetables.
Ate a lot, got mad, was a brute, lost weight.
And kept rolling cigarettes.

But life just kept on going on.

When he came back from there, where

The vessels of the national airlines fly.
From the heavens beyond the clouds.
When he came back from there altogether.
Like children still sucking the breast.
We were all totally helpless.

But that isn’t anything yet.

But there, high up, they sing at the controls.

While flying the stewardesses serve wine.
They roll the carts up and down the aisles.

MARIA STEPANOVA [169]

A Moil HaBepxy hc b nopHflKe >KH/ibu,a,
A caM onHpancfl na hbchh Oxpa,
M 3Toro fl He oxflaM.

A 3KU3Hb npodojiMana ce6fi.

Koxfla ac oh BepHynca oxxy^a HaBeK,

BesBOJibHoxo Hc6a cnycxoit HeaoBeK,
TaHHCXBCHHblH, KBK HeMOflaH,
Mbi BbiniHH c/iya<e6HbiM b noxo^cyio hohb,
CbiHOK Ha pyKax h okoho hohb.
H 6nji OH MeHH no MopflaM.

Ho amo ew,e Huneeo.

KaK BaaxHbiH pyManep npn chobc mo6oBb,

CKoabSHH no maxy ero BaxHAfl xonyBoH,
rioKa OH MCHH o6Hacan.
H BCeft pOflOCHOBHOH MbI CCHH B XB30H
H BHfleHH aapeBO, xfle ropHSOHX,
lAe Bce He xyuiHAH no^ap.

H 3KU3Hb npodojiMana ce6n.

Heflenio oh mui, KaK cnesy, co caesoil.

KoMy-xo xpo3HA, KOMy-xo «Cne3aH!»
flepacaca xpHnea 3a achbox.
IloxoM ace npnxHX h xhxo CKaaan,
Hxo xaM, HaBepxy, — ne fahah b xnaaa, —
He6ecHaa floHKa acHBex.

[170] MAPWa CXEHAHOBA

But mine was up top not in a residents role,
But was himself leaning on the Father’s shoulders
And I wont give this one up.

But life just kept on going on.

When he returned from there forever,

An empty-down man from the unwilling sky.
As mysterious as a suitcase.
We went out the front exit on a mild night.
Little son in my arms and daughter beside.
And he would whap me in the mugs.

But that isn’t anything yet.

Like a damp blush at the word love.

His blue gaze would slip over my face
While he uttered insults to me.
And as a whole clan we sat on the lawn
And saw the glow where the horizon had been.
Where they still hadn’t put the fire out.

And life just kept on going on.

For one week he drank, like a tear, with a tear.

He threatened somebody, told someone “Get down!”
He wheezed holding onto his belly.
Then he went quiet and quietly said.
That there, up above — not meeting my eyes —
The Heavenly Daughter is dwelling.

MARIA STEPANOVA [171]

H flOHKa, H 6a6Ka ona, h acena,
H KaK noA OAeacflOH ona MoaccHa,
H fl 6bi npocTHna BpaHbe,
Ho OHCHb xmaxenbHO oh onHcan
Ee paBHOflyniHbie, kbk He6eca,
BecABexHbie ohh ee.

BnepBbie oh BHAe;i ee, roBopHn,

Kor^a xopoAOK BeTOcneacHbiii ropen,
Ho Mbi aaBepmanH Mapmpyx,
H B CHHeHbKOH K)6Ke H 6enoM nnaxKe
Ona npoxHHyBacb b rnyxoe HHKe
Pacxpbixb Haflo mhoh napamiox.

flo6aBHji: ee na paccBexe BHflneH.

Bcerfla HHOHepcKaa (J)opMa na neil.
Hcchhhh xteHxa b Koce.
— H OH aaxpanen, h npocnyitCH aomok,
OxHbiHe nycxoH, xoxb ne Beiuail aaMOK,
HocKonbKy rynsijm na Bce.

A B, y MeHB HHHero CBoero,

Ho 3xa acxpanbHaa cy^xa ero,
Bo3AyuiHbiH exo xoMHccap,
OxBexHx, oxBexHx 3a xaacAxiH BHpa*
H BcnoMHHx norH6niHH ero axHnaac
H HTO xaM enj;e npeAnncaB!

A Bce H3MeHiraocb. H >xH3Hb 3a>xHBa,

Kax 6yAxo CBexna h npoapaHHefi cxexna
H eii HHHero ne aobbchbi.
H Moii nocxoHB, or/tHAencB oxpecx
H cxaB xoHxpoBepoM 3a necxHbiH npoe3A
Ha xpaHCHopxHbix cpeAcxBax cxpaHbi!

[172] MAPMB CXEHAHOBA

She’s a daughter, and an old hag, and a wife.
And as for how she looks under her clothing
I would have forgiven his lies.
But he went to a lot of detail to describe
Her indifferent, her colorless eyes.
That looked just like the heavens.

The first time he saw her, he would say.

Was when a snow-white city was burning.
But we were finishing our run.
And in a little blue skirt and a white kerchief
She reached over in a dead-end dive
To pull the chute open for me.

He added: it’s easier to see her at dawn.

She always wears a girl scout’s uniform.
The ribbon in her plait is dark blue.
— Then he started snoring, and the house woke up.
Empty from now on, don’t bother locking.
Since we’d squandered all that we had.

But I, I have nothing that’s my own.

Except that astral little bitch of his.
His atmospheric commissar.
He’ll answer, he’ll answer for each time he banked
And he’ll remember his team that died
And his instructions, in addition!

But everything changed. And life started back.

As if it was lit up and clearer than glass
And we weren’t in any debt to it.
And my man stood a bit, took a quick look around
And became a ticket-checker for an honest trip
On the public transit of our land!

MARIA STEPANOVA [173]

Ho TOJibKO OAHa>Kflbi BepHyncH
rionpe^HHM, H B ro/roce tot :ace naacHM,
H, raHflH MHe 6aH3KO b anpo,
CKaaaa, hto acMHoe nocTbiao CMy:
He6ecHaB floaKa npeflCTaaa CMy
B TpoBaeii6yce, rne Koabpo.

M Jier Ha KpoBaTb, h CTan yMHpaTb,

HcBHAHMblH nyx C npoCTbIHH o6HpaTb,
H yMep, noKa 6ea yMa,
KpHHa, B 6eacaaa KynHTb KopBaaoa
H BHacy: TpoaaeH6yc no Kpyry nomen,
A B nepBOM oKomKe — Cajvia.

Bbina HHOHepcKaH (JjopMa na nen.

Ona noKpacHena flo cainbix KopneH.
CnerKa naKnoHnnacb b oKHe
M CTpamno b mohx aamyiviena ymax,
Ho K HCH Ha HOflHoacKy a cflenana mar
H cya saceaaeT no mho.

... HpocTHTe ac mchh, xotb npon^enna hct,

3a rndenb aeBnoHKH aBenaapaTn ncT,
HeBHHHO nponaBmen sa to,
Mto b Beaane deaflymnon, kbk pbi6a b yxe,
He6ecHaa floHxa acnseT bo rpexe,
A c KCM — He yanaeT hhkto.

.. .A MU3Hb npodojiMaem ce6si.

[174] MAPMB CTEHAHOBA

Only once he came back, looking all strange,
Like before, and with the old clamp in his voice.
And, looking close into my face.
Said that now he was tired of the earthly:
The Heavenly Daughter had appeared to him
In the trolleybus, at the Ring.

And he lay on the bed, and he started to die.

To pluck invisible fluff from the sheet.
And he died there, while out of his mind.
Shouting, I ran out to buy Corvalol
And I see: a trolleybus making the circle
And in the front window: Herself.

She was wearing a girl scout uniform.

She blushed to the very roots of her hair.
She leaned slightly into the window
And a horrible ringing began in my ears.
But I took a step towards her on the stair
And the court s now in session for me.

... Forgive me, even though who could forgive.

For the death of a girl who was just twelve years old
Who died although guilty of nothing, because
In the soulless abyss, like a fish in fish soup.
The Heavenly Daughter lives in sin.
And with whom — no one will ever know.

... And life just keeps on going on.

MARIA STEPANOVA [175]

Notes

Parents Day
Pioneer Camp: summer camps for Soviet youth, this one
named after Felix Dzerzhinsky (1877-1926), the Bolshevik
leader who established the Soviet secret police (the Cheka).

Between Poets (A Vaudeville)

Vasily Zhukovsky: (1783-1852) a Romantic poet known for
his mellifluous verse. The Russian word for “beetle” is the
first syllable of his last name (zhuk).

Konstantin Batiushkov: (1787-1855) a Romantic poet known

for his stylistic daring and satirical gifts. He served in several
military campaigns. He also struggled with hereditary men­
tal illness, to which he succumbed in the early 1830s.

Petr Viazemsky (1792-1878) and Alexander Pushkin (1799-

1837) belonged to the same circle of poet-friends as Zhu­
kovsky and Batiushkov, Pushkin being the most celebrated
among them.

Leningrad Directory of Writers at the Front 1941-45

1.

L.P.: Leonid Panteleev (1908-89), a popular Soviet children’s

writer. A closeted Christian mystic, he revealed his faith in
a posthumous statement, “Credo.” His daughter Masha was
featured in his stories; she was diagnosed with schizophrenia
as a teenager.

Kharms: Daniil Kharms (1905-42), an absurdist poet. His

friend Panteleev was one of the last to see him before he was
arrested for the second time in 1941. To avoid being sen­
tenced, Kharms feigned insanity and died in Leningrad’s
asylum the following year.

2.
O. B.: Olga Berggolts (1910-1975), a poet best known for
her patriotic verses written during the siege, which she per­
formed as a celebrity on Leningrad Radio.

Prince Potyomkin: (1739-91), a lover and councilor of Cath­

erine the Great. He is mentioned here by Berggolts’s lover,
Georgy Makogonenko, a noted scholar of late 18th and early
19th century literature and head of Leningrad Radio.

Nikolai Molchanov: Berggolts’s husband, who died of starva­

tion during the siege.

3-
V. V.: Vsevolod Vishnevsky (1900-51), a Soviet author, the
head of the Leningrad Union of Writers. He wrote an oper­
etta about the siege titled “Baltic Sky,” which was deemed by
Soviet authorities too realistic to stage.

O. M.: Olga Matiushin (1885-1975), an artist and the last

wife of Mikhail Matiushin (1861-1934), a major avant-garde
painter. Their home was a gathering place for the Petersburg
avant-garde. The house survives today as a museum thanks
to Vishnevsky; he lived there during the siege with Olga Ma­
tiushin, who was blinded by a bombing.

Mikhail Vasilievich: Matiushin.

Elena Genrikhovna: Elena Guro (1877-1913), a major writer

and artist of the prerevolutionary avant-garde, and Matiushin’s
first wife.
“Silva”: an operetta by the Hungarian composer Emmerich
Kalman. Petersburg theaters continued to stage repertory
during the siege.

4-
V. V.: Vsevolod Vishnevsky.

N. K.: Natalya Krandievskaia (1888-1963), a symbolist poet,

the ex-wife of Soviet author Aleksei Tolstoy. She rediscov­
ered her poetic vocation during the siege.

Suvorin: Aleksei Suvorin (1834-1912), a conservative writer

and publisher who was greatly influential in late nineteenth-
century literary life.

5-
V. L: Vera Inber (1890-1972), a successful Soviet poet, de­
spite her family connection with Leon Trotsky. She wrote pa­
triotic poetry about the siege, for which she received a Stalin
Prize in 1946.

Several Positions

3-
Aretino poses: Pietro Aretino (1492-1556), a Renaissance poet
and satirist, the author of sixteen sonnets accompanying the
erotic engravings of Marcantonio Raimondi for I Modi, The
Ways.

“And Pushkin falls into the bluish;/ And who lay in the vale
of Dagestan” refers to the southern exile of two great Russian
Romantic poets: Alexander Pushkin (1799-1837) who spent
several years in exile in Crimea, and Mikhail Lermontov
(1814-1841) who served with the army in the Caucasus, and
whose most famous poem begins, “In the noonday heat in
the vale of Dagestan.”
Sana on the Barricades
The year nineteen-oh-five: a time of broad social and political
unrest, often called the “rehearsal” for the revolutions of 1917.

Guidon in a barrel: in Pushkins literary folktale, “The Tale

of Tsar Saltan,” the tsars’s evil stepsisters throw the newborn
tsarevich Guidon and his mother into the sea in a barrel.

Great-grandmother Sarra: Stepanovas great-grandmother,

Sarra Ginsburg.

Sarra Sverdlova (1890-1964), a Bolshevik revolutionary, with

her brother Iakov Sverdlov a member of Lenin’s Secretariat.