Happy Birthday, Vasily

Today in 1703 Vasily Kirillovich Trediakovsky was born. Although he was not of noble birth, he attended the Sorbonne (the first non-noble Russian to do so), and on his return to Russia he became an influential writer and poet, one of the group who transformed Russian poetry into the European style. In fact, his seminal work Новый и краткий способъ къ сложенью российскихъ стиховъ ("A new and brief way for composing of Russian verses") was the first discussion of Russian sonnets, madrigals, odes, and so on.

Here are two of his shorter pieces, with my rough translations. The first is his take on a well-known fable (Ivan Krylov did the best-known Russian version.)

ВОРОН И ЛИСИЦА

(Басня)

Негде Ворону унесть сыра часть случилось;
На дерево с тем взлетел, кое полюбилось.
Оного Лисице захотелось вот поесть;
Для того, домочься б, вздумала такую лесть:
Воронову красоту, перья цвет почтивши,
И его вещбу еще также похваливши,
"Прямо,- говорила,- птицею почту тебя
Зевсовою впредки, буде глас твой для себя,
И услышу песнь, доброт всех твоих достойну".
Ворон похвалой надмен, мня себе пристойну,
Начал, сколько можно громче, кракать и кричать,
Чтоб похвал последню получить себе печать;
Но тем самым из его носа растворенна
Выпал на землю тот сыр. Лиска, ободренна
Оною корыстью, говорит тому на смех:
"Всем ты добр, мой Ворон; только ты без сердца мех".

<1752>

Я уж ныне не люблю, как похвальбу красну;
Она токмо заняла мою душу власну.
    Я из памяти изгнал
    Всех моих ныне Филис,
  И якобы я не знал
      Ни Аминт, ниже Ирис.

Я насладился потех любовных премного,
При любви сердце было мое неубого.
    А что ж она иногда
    В муках меня держала,
  Тем наибольшу мне всегда
      Утеху умножала.

То мне поминать мило, и о том не каюсь;
Но навсегда с любовью ныне я прощаюсь.
    Похвальбу токмо красну,
    Чрез все мои обеты,
  За богиню мне власну
      Признаю во вся леты.

<1730>

The Raven and the Fox

(Fable)

Somewhere a Raven got hold of a piece of cheese;
He flew to his favorite tree carrying it.
But a Fox desired to eat it; and in aid of that goal
He came up with some flattery like this,
Praising the Raven's beauty, the color of his feathers,
And praising as well his wisdom:
"Truthfully," he said, "I revere you as the bird
Who's descended from the Great Thunder Eagle;
If only I could hear your voice for myself,
And hear your song, I could know all your virtues."
The Raven swelled with the praise, imagining himself worthy of it,
And began, as loud as he could, to caw and call,
So that he might receive the last bit of honor;
But in so doing, what he carried was lost,
And down to ground fell his cheese. Foxy,
Having gained his prize, said with a laugh:
"All the best to you, my Raven; you're a stuffed bird after all."


<1752>

I do not love the present, that vainglorious beauty,
It has merely taken hold of my soul.
    I've driven from my memory
    All my Phyllises of today,
  And it's as if I never knew
      Either Amint or Iris.

I enjoyed myself with larks a-plenty,
In love my heart never did too badly.
    But still sometimes
    Love tormented me more
  With the joys it always
      Multiplied for me.

It's pleasing to remember, and I repent nothing;
But always I bid my current love farewell.
    It's only vain beauty
    Through all of my vows,
  And my own private goddess
       My whole life I'll profess.


<1730>

More (in Russian) here