Forgive me, my darling… ~Dedicated to E.

Picture of a lady holding a rose.

Poem (Part 1):

Forgive me, my darling, for thinking of you!
Your fragrance is sweeter than peony dew,
The bloom of your lips enamours like spring,
One rapturous smile - I forget everything...
The Soul of the Rose by John William Waterhouse, 1908.
Picture of two women gathering flowers.

Poem (part 2):

Oh, bitter delusions of our first love!
The feverish blindness descends from above:
My ears cease to hear, my mouth - to speak,
No soul would survive a feeling this deep!
Gather Ye Rosebuds While Ye May by John William Waterhouse, 1909.
Picture of a lady holding a crystal ball.

Poem (Part 3):

Your hands keep escaping my blasphemous touch.
The eyes, filled with sorrow, adore you so much,
The heart keeps on beating, yet broken in two!
Tell me, dear beloved, what shall I do?
The Crystal Ball by John William Waterhouse, 1902.

***
Forgive me, my darling, for thinking of you!
Your fragrance is sweeter than peony dew,
The bloom of your lips enamours like spring,
One rapturous smile - I forget everything...

Oh, bitter delusions of our first love!
The feverish blindness descends from above:
My ears cease to hear, my mouth - to speak,
No soul would survive a feeling this deep!

Your hands keep escaping my blasphemous touch.
The eyes, filled with sorrow, adore you so much,
The heart keeps on beating, yet broken in two!
Tell me, dear beloved, what shall I do?

“A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man” by James Joyce (1916) ★★★★

Not to Be Reproduced (La Reproduction Interdite). René Magritte, 1937.
Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen, Rotterdam

“To arts unknown he bends his wits, and alters nature.”

― Ovid, Metamorphoses.

Myriads of evocative images permeate the debut novel of the most influential Irish modernist, conveying the entire spectrum of feelings ranging from religious fervour to the ardour of lust. A master of intertextuality, Joyce intermingles philosophical discussions (unfortunately, often one-sided, despite their doubtless intellectual splendour) with “scraps of poetry and madness” – playful allusions to ancient myths and historical events. Nevertheless, a vivid combination of excessive naturalism and vague surrealism may be exhausting for the reader, as the rigorous author does not attempt to ease the acute transitions from one state of consciousness into another. It is only for the literary adventurers themselves to decide whether this egocentric coming-of-age journey is worth the effervescent, yet turbulent ride.

Continue reading ““A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man” by James Joyce (1916) ★★★★”

Orphic Symphony ~ Dedicated to E.

“Anger of Poseidon” by Mariusz Lewandowski
The Mermaid” by Howard Pyle
“Orpheus Leading Eurydice from the Underworld” by Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot
“Orpheus and Eurydice” by Emil Neide
“Orphee et Eurydice” by Eduard Kasparides
Crossing the ocean
In the arms of Poseidon
My heart will reach you.

Bleeding with sea-foam,
Wrapped in a mermaid's soft hair,
Our spirits emerge

From the stormy waves
Where Aphrodite was born,
Pink-glowing, pearl-hung.

My tenderness plays
The Apollonian lyre
With your slender hands.

There is no escape
From the darkness of Hades
To the Olympus.

Approaching the light,
I succumb, mesmerized by
The sound of your voice.

"Beloved," you beg:
"Turn around!" Eurydice - 
Forever, farewell!

Portrait de la jeune fille en feu (2019) ★★★★★

The higher we soar, the smaller we appear to those who cannot fly.

~ Friedrich Nietzsche, “Thus Spoke Zarathustra

A Haunted House

Cliff House, San Francisco, 1901.
Courtesy of the Cliff House Project.

The sultry honey aroma of wild apple trees haunts you, while the darkness of a tangy spring fog envelops the world. Fragile pearl threads stretch from the sky, penetrating the warmth of your skin, leaving dusky traces on the defenseless clothes. You run away, seeking shelter, and return to the house, a black shadow looming over your silhouette, over the luscious garden, over the whole Earth.

Continue reading “A Haunted House”

“Vita & Virginia” (2018) ★★★★★

“Vita and Virginia” is a captivating biographical drama by a British director, Chanya Button. This film portrays the intricate relationship between two literary icons of the twentieth century, Virginia Woolf and Vita Sackville-West, played by Elizabeth Debicki and Gemma Arterton.

Continue reading ““Vita & Virginia” (2018) ★★★★★”

My Translation of Marina Tsvetaeva’s Cycle “Girlfriend” – Part 4

Illustration: Devotion: the Two Girlfriends, Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, 1895
***
You were too lazy to get dressed,
Too lazy to rise from the armchair.
- Although Your next day could be blessed
With my pure gaiety and laughter.

You were embarrassed most of all
To walk at night amid the snowfall.
- Although Your hours could be bold
With my excitement - jolly, youthful.

My darling, You have meant no harm,
So irreversibly benign.
- You were all innocence and charm,
I was the youth that passed You by.

October 25, 1914

Click to see the original poem

My Translation of Marina Tsvetaeva’s Cycle “Girlfriend” – Part 3

Illustration: “The Window Seat” by Robert Burns, 1905-1906.
Picture Editing: Pascale Clerie
***
I’ve spent all day beside the window,
The snow was melting everywhere.
My mind was sober, bosom - tender,
Again I live without care.

I don’t know why. It must be languor,
The mere exhaustion of the soul,
I simply couldn’t bear to handle
My pencil - riotous and bold.

And so I stood - the foggy valance -
Concealed both evil and caress,
My finger gently broke the silence
By tapping on the fragile glass.

My spirit’s neither worse, nor better
Than any stranger - whom I’ve met, -
Than puddles of pearlescent glitter,
The mirrored sky above my head,

Than bird in flight, so free and dauntless,
Than racing dog with fluffy ears,
And even the impoverished songstress
No longer can bring me to tears.

The charming art of sweet oblivion
I’ve memorized from the start.
Today a feeling worth a million
Was slowly melting in my heart.


October 24, 1914

Click to see the original poem

My Translation of Marina Tsvetaeva’s Cycle “Girlfriend” – Part 2

Illustration: Ladies and a Cat, Louis Icart, 1923
***
Under the plush plaid's tender softness
I lie, remembering last night.
Was it a dream? - Who broke the fortress? -
Who lost the fight?

Again comes bitter rumination,
And suffering hits me anew.
Words can't define this revelation -
Do I love you?

Who was the hunter? - Who - the victim? 
The devil has reversed it all!
What purring, wise Siberian kitten
May now recall?

In that self-willed and fervent duel,
Who held the shield, and who - the sword?
Whose heartbeat - Yours or mine - was cruel,
And raced, and soared?

What - after all - was our story?
What do I long for and regret?
Still wondering: was this my glory?
Or my death-bed?


October 23, 1914

Click to see the original poem

My Translation of Marina Tsvetaeva’s Cycle “Girlfriend” – Part 1

A photograph of Sophia Parnok, to whom Marina Tsvetaeva dedicated this cycle of poems.
***
Aren’t you happy? No! You would hardly tell me!
So - let it be!
You’ve kissed too many, and you’ve loved too many,
In misery.

All of the tragic heroines of Shakespeare
I see in You,
Although nobody saved my lady - young, drear -
Out of the blue!

You are exhausted by repeating blindly
The words of love!
The ring, cast-iron, on your hand - frail, whitely, -
Reveals enough!

I love You. - Deadly sins, like clouds of thunder, -
Above you rest -
For all of Your causticity and candour,
You are the best,

For all the differences left between us -
In shades of gloom,
For Your seductiveness, inspired by Venus,
And stormy doom.

To You, my highbrow, otherworldly demon,
I’ll say goodbye,
For You, the most remarkable of women, -
Will surely die!

For all this sudden trembling - and confusion -
Is this a dream? -
For the ironic, wonderful conclusion -
That you’re not “him.”

October 16, 1914

Click to see the original poem