Bunina, A. P.

Forrester, Sibelan E. S., , translator

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Swarthmore College Works Russian Faculty Works Russian 1994 Translation Of "Conversation Between Me And The Women" By A. P. Bunina A. P. Bunina Sibelan E. S. Forrester , translator Swarthmore College, sforres1@swarthmore.edu Follow this and additional works at: https://works.swarthmore.edu/fac-russian  Part of the Slavic Languages and Societies Commons Let us know how access to these works benefits you  Recommended Citation A. P. Bunina and Sibelan E. S. Forrester , translator. (1994). "Translation Of "Conversation Between Me And The Women" By A. P. Bunina". An Anthology Of Russian Women's Writing, 1777-1992. 8-11. https://works.swarthmore.edu/fac-russian/166 This work is brought to you for free and open access by . It has been accepted for inclusion in Russian Faculty Works by an authorized administrator of Works. For more information, please contact myworks@swarthmore.edu. ♦ ANNA BUNINA ♦Conversation between Me and the Women(Russian text p. 403)THE WOMENOur sister dear, what joy for us!You are a poetess! your palette’s able,Holding all shades, to paint an ode, a fable;Your heart must brim with praise for us!A man’s tongue, though... Ah, God preserve us, dear! 5Sharp as a knife is sharp!In Paris, London—as in Russia here—They’re all the same! On just one string they harp:Naught but abuse—and ladies always suffer!We wait for madrigals—it’s epigrams they offer. 10Don’t expect brothers, husbands, fathers, sons To praise you even once.How long we’ve lacked a songstress of our own!So, do you sing.? Pray answer, yes or no?MEYes, yes, dear sisters! Thanks be to Providence 15I have been singing now for five years since.THE WOMENAnd in those years, what have you sung and how?Though few of us, in truth, have Russian educations.And Russian verses make such complications!Besides, you know, they aren’t in fashion now. 20ANNA BUNINA 9MEI sing all Nature’s beauteous hues,Above the flood the hornM sickle moon;I count the little drops of dew,I hymn the sun’s ascension in the morn.Flocks gambolling in the fields enjoy my care:I give reed pipes unto the shepherdesses.Flowers I entwine in their companions’ tresses. That are so flaxen-fair;I order them to take each other’s hands.To caper to a dance.And as their fleet feet pass.To trample not a single blade of grass.Up to the heavens rocky crags I raise,I plant out branchy trees To rest an old man in their shady breeze On summer’s sultry days;I search the roses for bright insects’ wings.And, having summoned feathered birds to sing,I languish paleTo the sweet warble of the nightingale.Or, all at once, freeing the horse’s manes,I order them to race the wind;And with their hooves dust to the clouds they fling. I draw a corn-field crowned with ears of grain. Which, from the sun’s bright rays Takes on the look of seas Of molten gold.Sways, ripples, dazzles, shines—Blinding the eye.As humble ploughmen their reward behold.In fortifying my own timid voice Through Nature’s loveliness.I’m braver in a flash!THE WOMEN253035404550Fie! what balderdash!There’s not one word in this for us! 5510 ANNA BUNINATell US what good such singing does?What use are all your livestock, polled and horned To us, who weren’t as herdsmen born?So, with the beasts you feel at home?Well!... if that’s your topic, then.Hide in a den.Among the fields, pray, roam,And never haunt the capitals in vain!ME0 no, dear sisters, come!People are also in my ken.THE WOMENCommendable! but whom have you sung, then?MEAt times I’ve hymned the deeds of mighty men.Who, when the bloody fight drew near.Declared for faith and Tsar; they knew no fear. Shaking with my lament the field of quarrels I bore them thence away with laurels.Dropping a tear.At times I’ve left this grievous task.And passed to those who keep the laws.I’ve filled my soul with cheer.And rested ’neath their aegis, free from cares.At times to poets I’ve inclined my ear And bent the knee before their thunderous lyres.At timesMoved by esteem.I’ve made the chemist or astronomer my theme.THE WOMENAnd here again we’re missing from your rhymes!You do us quite a service!So what good are you? Don’t you make things worse? Why did you bother learning to sing verse?6o6570758085ANNA BUNINA 11You ought to take your themes from your own circle.’Tis only men you honour with your lays,As if their sex alone deserved your praise.You traitress! Give our case some thought!For is this what you ought? 90Are their own founts of flattery too few,Or can they boast of more than our virtue?MEIt’s true, my dears, you are no less.But understand:With men, not you, the courts of taste are manned 95Where authors all must stand.And all an author’s fame is in their hands.And none can help loving himself the best.^Translated by Sibelan Forrester‘ May I be forgiven for this jest in deference to the merry Muses, who love to mix business with idleness, lies with truth, and to enliven conversation with innocent playfulness. [Author’s note.]

Translation Of  Conversation Between Me And The Women  By A. P. Bunina

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Translation Of Conversation Between Me And The Women By A. P. Bunina

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