Beau Guest (МОЛОДЕЦ) A Bi-Lingual Interpretation

By Marina Tsvetaeva

Through the churchyard, headstones broken, through boggy places — mud squishes. Footfalls, not a word spoken. Gates slam like lost wishes. Through rows of graves, now have done with amazement.
Be still, don’t fail him. Don’t break his spell. Casket borne as a snail would. The unreal man’s coffin trails him —”
The great Russian writer, Marina Tsvetaeva lights the flame of her tale in a small village, where Marusya is the belle of the town. A mysterious fellow shows up and shows off at the young people’s dance.
The ties of love, the ties of death, mysterious fires, spiritual crossroads and moral failings weave through the tale.
The characters and their bonds will return in the novel’s second part. There the lovers find one another again in new lives, this time as part of Russia’s nobility. More ethical choices, more seeking, more love, and then: a cleansing way to live on the way to redemption.
A Russian Vampire, Eternal Love, & Eternal Life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Becca Menon
• Release date: Aug 26, 2021
• ISBN: 9780463691557

Marina Tsvetaeva

Marina Tsvetaeva, like older contemporary Symbolist, W.B.Yeats, wove the canny and the uncanny in audacious poetry and tales of love, faith and politics. She was born in Tzarist Russia, and died under Stalinist Communism – her suicide almost certainly coerced

Book preview

BEAU GUEST

Marina Tsvetaeva’s

1922

МОЛОДЕЦ

(Molodets)

(Frequently rendered as The Swain)

An Interpretation In English

by

Becca Menon

BEAU GUEST

by

MARINA TSVETAEVA

A Bi-lingual Interpretation

by

Becca Menon

www.BeccaBooks.com

English language version © 2021 Becca Menon

Cover Design by John Bartelstone www.johnbartelstone.com

Cover images: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Patterns_on_a_flame.jpg & https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Band_(Italy),_late_16th%E2%80%93early_17th_century_(CH_18445133).jpg

Published by BeccaBooks.com at Smashwords

CONTENTS

TSVETAEVA AND HER BEAU GUEST

PART ONE

1 BEAU GUEST

2 LADDER

3 TO THE GATE

4 OF THE SECOND GATE

5 UNDER THE THRESHOLD

PART TWO

1 THE MASTER

2 MARBLE

3 A SON

4 THE FÊTE

5 CHERUBIM

CONFESSIONS OF A TRANSLATOR

МОЛОДЕЦ (Complete Russian Text)

BEAU GUEST

Portrait of Alexander Pushkin, Vasily Tropinin, 1827

Alexander Pushkin (May 26, 1799, {June 6, New Style}, Moscow — died January 29, 1837 {February 10}) a contemporary of Lord Byron, became Russia’s eternal literary lodestar – fully European, fully Russian.

What did a notoriously independent woman seek in the alpha male nearly 100 years after his death?

The virtuosic Tsvetaeva turned to that proud descendant of a court-African for models of verse form, meters, rhythms and rhymes. These she made her own: more feminine, more modern, less rigid.

http://karadag.com.ru/works_of_art/painting/Nahman_Magda

8 October [O.S. 26 September] 1892 – 31 August 1941

This tale of a bewitcher’s ties to her preternatural mate fell into place as Tsvetaeva’s fourth and final long, folkloric fable.

For it she had taken another lesson from the master:

the telling of old stories that matter in new ways.

Boris Pasternak —

"As gest before your greatness,

As pleasure before your indulgence…"

PART ONE

Arnold Lakhovsky http:www.artfira.com https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=4780227

1

BEAU GUEST

To the flat blue-green woods past the village!

The oak fell but its trunk’s still a pillar.

The widow could use it, she’s weary,

And daughter, Marusya’s so cheery.

The bells ring for church — guys jostle.

Marusya! Who’ll walk on her left?

She makes friendships fray— oof! — frosty!

The Trinity might cross up itself!

"Let me go with the girls, mother dear.

I promise I’ll always stay near them."

"Yes, your brother can help shake the bedding.

Your cornflower eyes need cheeks reddened!"

"But I sleep like a rock —

My head’s hard as one too, that’s the truth!"

"My treasure, go walk: go walk

While you have your youth."

***

"The lads are chasing,

Our silk tresses lacing

Russian boys — bracing!

Oh then!

Mine’s — so graceful,

Yours: — so graceful,

Marushka’s, most graceful of any!

Up the way wending

The hill, go ascending

With your intended —

Oh then!!

Mine’s tall — splendid,

Yours: tall — splendid,

Marushka’s, most splendid of any!"

"Let gladness begin!

Weave and spin —

Oh, it’s lovely to whisper and talk!

Each day neat as a pin,

Let’s come by, call within,

‘Halloo, Name-you, our-health-giving-walk!’"

There is no rain

To extinguish what burns

In the flame of a beau who yearns.

You close up in vain.

Can you hold back the sun?

No home can lock out the hungry male youngster!

One gussying up, shh… A real Russian learns,

To bow like a prince in society.

And a purse with a silver-stream purling

Is always the height of propriety!

From its sweets to its edges,

Childhood, farewell!

Hawk-Sokol, you’re fledging!

Escort pretty girls… who can tell!

A glass cup with a rim is poured —

(How those fancy shirts itch that were stored!)

So, all gathered enjoy the reward

That is passed ’round with one accord.

"They’re glowing, they’re blazing,

They’re hot! — Oh, we’re braising!

Red cheeks that were ivory —

Oh then!

Mine’s — fiery,

Yours: — fiery,

Marushka’s, most fiery of any!"

Clattering, banging,

Rattling, clanking,

Don’t hold back, thank you! —

Oh then!

Mine’s — obstreperous,

Yours: — obstreperous,

Marushka’s, most obstreperous of any!"

Little Lubki, lick

Your ripe lips quick!

Bells toll hours’ division —

Hawk takes the white pigeon!

"We probably should get going.

Sokol-Hawk! lead us."

"No, since he’s new and we’re going,

This Beau stranger here should precede us."

"I will choose, no discussion,

The maiden who’s most Russian.

Let the risk be repercussion:

It’s Marusya or Luba I’ll summon."

"Dance, Masha, show him,

And, Sweety, too, show him,

The way our girls whirl in The Sun-Dance!

Oh then!

Mine’s — glowing,

Yours: — glowing,

The Guest is most glowing of any!"

"Jump! With the knack,

Boards will tremble and crack!

Fly high if you want to amaze.

Beneath fellows are boards,

Yes, beneath guys, the floorboards —

But under the Beau Guest, a blaze!"

"Drop hands! It’s no game!

Out to the yard!"

Breathing — jarred —

Hair — all awry —

The birch-stand! — aflame! —

Church-yard-help-FIRE!"

A majestic wolf… circling,

Soars over hurdles —

My heart’s-food! My turtle-dove!

The embrace comes, a hurtle.

Yes-yes, but what is this!

Yes, dying and living!

More, please, more pleasing anguish!

Yes-yes, but what is this!

Yes, dying and living!

Yes, beyond sight, beyond language!

Dance, little turning one,

Dance, little learning one.

Caught so that you can be shown this

By someone — this predator —

By someone — you fed on him —

The Beau Guest, unheard-of, unknown.

Never before — nothing’s hard anymore —

Swirl, breath, swirl, breath, swirl!

No grand earl — dashing