My Virtual Reading Room

(Б.Окуджава)

"...One time, a Moscow literary analysis journal asked several writers to write about the purpose for which we write and why we write. Because I can't write articles and don't particularly like analysing myself, I declined. Others wrote very serious analyses of their own creative process. And I wrote a poem and sent it to the journal. The poem wasn't printed at the time, but later, it became a song..."

(B. Okudjava)

Lyrics and translation:

В склянке темного стекла
Из-под импортного пива
Роза красная цвела
Гордо и неторопливо.

In a vessel made of dark glass
Which was an empty bottle of imported beer
A red rose bloomed
Proudly and unhurriedly.

Исторический роман
   Сочинял я понемногу,
   Пробиваясь, как в туман,
   От пролога к эпилогу.

I was slowly composing
A historical novel,
Forcing my way, as if through a fog,
From a prologue to the epilogue.
 

Припев: Каждый пишет, как он слышит,

        Каждый слышит, как он дышит,
                         
        Как он дышит, так и пишет,
                   
        Не стараясь угодить...

        Так природа захотела,
                     
        Почему - не наше дело,
          
        Для чего - не нам судить.

Refrain:

Everyone writes the way he hears,
Everyone hears how he breathes,
How he breathes, so he writes,
Not trying to please...
That's how nature wanted it,
Why--is none of our business,
For what purpose--is not for us to judge.

Были дали голубы,
Было вымысла в избытке,
И из собственной судьбы
Я выдергивал по нитке.
В путь героя снаряжал,
Наводил о прошлом справки
И поручиком в отставке
Сам себя воображал.

The faraway horizons were blue,
I had creativity to spare,
And from my own fate
I was plucking out threads, one by one.
I equipped my hero for the journey,
Made inquiries about the past
And I imagined myself to be
A retired lieutenant.

Припев.
Refrain: Everyone writes...etc.

Вымысел не есть обман,
Замысел - еще не точка,
Дайте дописать роман
До последнего листочка.
И пока еще жива
Роза красная в бутылке,
Дайте выкрикнуть слова,
Что давно лежат в копилке.

Creative invention isn't deceit,
Plot is not yet a period,
Let me finish writing the novel
To its very last page.
And while the red rose in the bottle
Is yet alive,
Let me shout out the words
Which have been lying in the piggy bank for a long time.

Припев.
Refrain: Everyone writes...etc.