Showing posts from January, 2023


Image   Requiem I January 06, 2023 Quà Tết của Gấu.     Sẽ là toàn bài Requiem, gồm ba phần, nguyên tác, bản tiếng Anh - từ 1 số bản tiếng Anh của D.M. Thomas, Lyn Coffin, Judith, và của 1 số Đại học có trên net. Bản tiếng Việt - sẽ dịch thật sát nguyên tác, không có phóng dịch. Tiếp liền là trường thi Bi Khúc Phương Bắc, Cẩn. NQT     REQUIEM   “No, not under a foreign heavenly-cope, and Not canopied by foreign wings — I was with my people in those hours, There where, unhappily, my people were.” In the fearful years of the Yezhov terror I spent seventeen months in prison queues in Leningrad. One day somebody “identified' me. Beside me, in the queue, there was a woman with blue lips. She had, of course, never heard of me; but she suddenly came out of that trance so common to us all and whispered in my ear (everybody spoke in whispers there): Can you describe this?' And I said: 'Yes, I can.' And then


  Bài Intro cho tập thơ tiếng Anh của Lyn Coffin (dịch Anna Akhmatova) đúng ra, là tiểu luận The Kneeling Muse của Brodsky. Gấu sẽ cố gắng dịch ra tiếng Việt, vì, theo Gấu, nó giải thích thơ, không chỉ cho 1 thi sĩ, mà toàn thể thi sĩ, có thể nói như thế.    Thí dụ:   No one absorbs the past as thoroughly as a poet, if only out of fear of inventing the already invented. (This is why, by the way a poet is so often regarded as being "ahead of his time" which keeps itself busy rehashing clichés.) So no matter what a poet my plan to say, at the moment of speech, he always knows that he inherits the subject. The great literature of the past humbles one not only through its quality but through its topical precedence also. The reason why a good poet speaks of his own grief with restraint is that as regards grief he is a Wandering Jew.      Anna Akhmatova POEMS Selected and Translated by LYN COFFIN    Introduction by Joseph Brodsky          INTRODUCTION    When her father learned


                         REQUIEM     No, it wasn't under a foreign heaven,    It wasn't under the wing of a foreign power,—     I was there among my countrymen,     I was where  my people, unfortunately,  were.                                               1961                  INSTEAD OF A PREFACE   In the awful years  of Yezhovian horror, I spent sev- enteen  months standing  in line in front of various pris- ons in Leningrad. One  day someone "recognized" me. Then a   woman with blue lips, who was standing behind me, and   who, of course,  had never heard  my   name, came  out of the stupor  which typified  all of us, and whispered  into  my ear  (everyone there spoke only in whispers):   —Can  you  describe this?   And I said:   —I can.   Then something like a  fleeting smile passed over what once had  been her face.                                          April 1, 1957                                          Leningrad   N. I. Yezhov: head of the NKVD, the Sovie