{"title":"Elena Shvarts","description":"Elena Shvarts was the most outstanding Russian poet of her generation, as well as a prose writer of distinction. Born in St Petersburg in 1948, she studied at the Leningrad Institute of Film, Music and Theatre. The daughter of a theatre literary manager, she earned her living translating plays for Leningrad's theatres. Her poems were published in \u003cem\u003esamizdat\u003c\/em\u003e and abroad from the late 60s, but her first Russian publication, \u003cem\u003eCircle\u003c\/em\u003e, did not appear until 1984. Since then she has published more than ten collections of poetry. A book of prose pieces, including short autobiographical fragments, \u003cem\u003eThe Visible Side of Life\u003c\/em\u003e, was published in 2003. She was awarded the Andrei Bely Literary Prize in 1979, and the Triumph Prize in 2003, an independent award for lifetime's achievement in the arts. Bloodaxe published two bilingual editions covering her earlier and later work, \u003cem\u003eParadise: Selected Poems\u003c\/em\u003e (1993) and \u003cem\u003eBirdsong on the Seabed\u003c\/em\u003e (2008), both of which are Poetry Book Society Recommended Translations. She had just completed a book on the Italian poet D'Annunzio at the time of her death from cancer in 2010.\n","products":[{"product_id":"modern-poetry-in-translation-series-3-no7-love-and-war","title":"Modern Poetry in Translation (Series 3 No.7) Love and War","description":"\u003cem\u003eLove and War\u003c\/em\u003e contains translations and original poems on this modern and ancient topic. This volume demonstrates the wealth and variety of interpretations of the theme.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ca name=\"contents\"\u003e\u003c\/a\u003eCover by Lucy Wilkinson.  Editorial by David and Helen Constantine.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eContents:\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e•\tAdonis, nine poems, translated by Peter Clark and Sarah Maguire\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e•\tJeff Nosbaum, ‘Pride of Ajax’\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e•\tYannis Ritsos, twenty-eight of the Monochords, translated by Paul Merchant\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e•\t\u003ca href=\"#e0\"\u003eGuillaume Apollinaire, seven poems, translated by Stephen Romer\u003c\/a\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e•\tPushkin, The Captain’s Daughter, extracts translated by Robert Chandler\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e•\tVénus Khoury-Ghata, six poems from Interments, translated by Marilyn Hacker\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e•\tGilgamesh, an extract translated by Paul Batchelor\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e•\tFederico Garcia Lorca , ‘Song of the Civil Guard’, translated by Mark Leech\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e•\t\u003ca href=\"#e1\"\u003eOliver Reynolds, ‘Kolin’ and ‘Dusty Miller Breaks his Silence’(after Liliencron’s ‘Wer weiss wo’ and ‘Vergiss die Mühle nicht’)\u003c\/a\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e•\tStephen Romer, four poems\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e•\t\u003ca href=\"#e2\"\u003eDu Fu, two poems, translated by Paul Harris\u003c\/a\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e•\tCharles Dobzynski, ‘My Life as a Wall’, translated by Marilyn Hacker\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e•\tLucretius, ‘Aulis’, translated by Stephanie Norgate\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e•\t\u003ca href=\"#e3\"\u003eRobert Desnos, ten poems, translated by Timothy Adès\u003c\/a\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e•\tAnzhelina Polonskaya, four poems, translated by Andrew Wachtel\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e•\t\u003ca href=\"#e4\"\u003eManuel Rivas, six poems, translated by Jonathan Dunne\u003c\/a\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e•\tGiuseppe Belli, four sonnets, translated by Mike Stocks\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e•\tElsa Morante, Farewell, an extract translated by Cristina Viti\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e•\tAndrea Zanzotto, four poems, translated by Jo Catling and others\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e•\tElena Shvarts, nine poems, translated by Sasha Dugdale\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eReviews and Comments\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e•\tMichael Hamburger on Assia Wevill\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e•\tRobin Fulton on Robin Robertson’s Tranströmer\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e•\tSasha Dugdale on Emily Lygo’s Voltskaia\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e•\tCharlie Louth on Eavan Boland and the Bachmann-Henze correspondence\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e•\tBelinda Cooke on translations of Vittorio Sereni and Luciano Erba\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e•\tJosephine Balmer, Shorter Reviews\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003chr size=\"1\"\u003e\u003ca name=\"e0\" title=\"e0\"\u003e\u003c\/a\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eGuillaume Apollinaire, seven poems, translated by Stephen Romer\u003c\/strong\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e                         \u003cbr\u003e\u003cem\u003eXxxii (extracts)  My Lou I shall sleep tonight…\u003c\/em\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMy Lou I shall sleep tonight in the trenches\u003cbr\u003eFreshly dug and waiting near our guns\u003cbr\u003eSome twelve kilometers away are the holes\u003cbr\u003eWhere I shall go down in my coat of horizon-blue\u003cbr\u003eBetween the whizzbangs and the casseroles\u003cbr\u003eTo take my place among our soldier-troglodytes\u003cbr\u003eThe train stopped at Mourmelon le Petit\u003cbr\u003eAnd I stepped down as happy as I climbed up\u003cbr\u003eSoon we shall leave for the battery but for now\u003cbr\u003eI’m among the soldiery and shells are whistling\u003cbr\u003eIn the grey north sky and no one thinks of dying…\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e……………………………\t\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd thus we shall live on the frontline\u003cbr\u003eAnd I shall liken your arms to the necks of swans\u003cbr\u003eAnd sing your breasts belonging to a goddess\u003cbr\u003eAnd the lilac shall blossom… I shall sing your eyes\u003cbr\u003eWhere a choir of lissom cherubs is dancing\u003cbr\u003eThe lilac shall blossom in the serious spring!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003chr size=\"1\"\u003e\u003ca name=\"e1\" title=\"e1\"\u003e\u003c\/a\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eOliver Reynolds, ‘Kolin’ and ‘Dusty Miller Breaks his Silence’(after Liliencron’s ‘Wer weiss wo’ and ‘Vergiss die Mühle nicht’)\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/strong\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e               \u003cem\u003eKolin!\u003c\/em\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\t (18.vi.1757)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSoldiers drown in their blood.\u003cbr\u003eWheeling smoke, hoof-churned mud\u003cbr\u003e\t and the sheen\u003cbr\u003eof a thousand spurs catches the sun.\u003cbr\u003eNo one’s springing to attention\u003cbr\u003e\t at Kolin.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e All the generals and squaddies\u003cbr\u003e who necked bullets like toddies\u003cbr\u003e\t now stand easy.\u003cbr\u003e Death having meant no harm\u003cbr\u003e by his jogging each arm\u003cbr\u003e\t now stands easy.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e An oblong bump in the shirt\u003cbr\u003e of a corpse feeding on dirt\u003cbr\u003e\t looks like a book.\u003cbr\u003e An adjutant stooped as he grieved\u003cbr\u003e undid the pocket and retrieved\u003cbr\u003e           the Gospel of Luke.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eReturned with Prussian palaver\u003cbr\u003eto the high-ranking father\u003cbr\u003e\t fixed in his chair\u003cbr\u003eit now bears a spidery inscription.\u003cbr\u003eKolin. My son lost in action.\u003cbr\u003e\tWho knows where.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd you who now read that line\u003cbr\u003eare one with its writer: both decline\u003cbr\u003e           to see what’s there.\u003cbr\u003eFor each of us will be posted in turn\u003cbr\u003elost in action, to freeze or burn\u003cbr\u003e           who knows where.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003chr size=\"1\"\u003e\u003ca name=\"e2\" title=\"e2\"\u003e\u003c\/a\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eDu Fu, two poems, translated by Paul Harris\u003c\/strong\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cem\u003eA Scene in Spring\u003c\/em\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe state is torn apart, only the mountains and rivers remain.\u003cbr\u003eWeeds and trees run rampant in the city this spring.\u003cbr\u003eDo the flowers sense the times, that they, like me, should weep?\u003cbr\u003eDo the birds feel the emptiness, they seem so fearful?\u003cbr\u003eFor three months on end the garrison beacons have glimmered at night.\u003cbr\u003eA letter from home would be worth a heap of gold to me,\u003cbr\u003eAn old man waiting, whose remaining white hairs\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003chr size=\"1\"\u003e\u003ca name=\"e3\" title=\"e3\"\u003e\u003c\/a\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eRobert Desnos, ten poems, translated by Timothy Adès\u003c\/strong\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cem\u003eSong of the Glass of Wine\u003c\/em\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhen the train goes don’t wave your hand,\u003cbr\u003eYour handkerchief, your umbrella,\u003cbr\u003eBut fill a glass with wine,\u003cbr\u003eAnd throw, towards the train whose grab-rails are singing,\u003cbr\u003eThe wine’s long flame,\u003cbr\u003eThe wine’s bloody flame that is like your tongue,\u003cbr\u003eAnd shares with it\u003cbr\u003eThe palate and the couch\u003cbr\u003eOf your lips and your mouth.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003chr size=\"1\"\u003e\u003ca name=\"e4\" title=\"e4\"\u003e\u003c\/a\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eManuel Rivas, six poems, translated by Jonathan Dunne\u003c\/strong\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cem\u003eBallad on the Western Beaches\u003c\/em\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe ship settles on the shore\u003cbr\u003eand land birds nest on its mast.\u003cbr\u003eWith the compass I trace routes on maps of tillage,\u003cbr\u003ehurt by the sky’s anger on the seed’s weak ribs,\u003cbr\u003efearful of the flower’s drift before inhumane winds.\u003cbr\u003eThe ship sleeps on the shore,\u003cbr\u003ethe keel’s blue imagination covered in brush and rushes,\u003cbr\u003eand the figurehead has a strolling soul.\u003cbr\u003eIn the binnacle is kept the book of moons and the rains’ needle,\u003cbr\u003ea bottle of old snow liqueur.\u003cbr\u003eA skylark sings on a rusty harpoon,\u003cbr\u003ea blackbird’s sigh lashes the cables\u003cbr\u003eand crows on the rudder glimpse lesser death lying alongside.\u003cbr\u003eAll set, admiral, for the great journey.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e","brand":"Modern Poetry in Translation","offers":[{"title":"Book","offer_id":1040751556,"sku":"9780954536770","price":9.95,"currency_code":"GBP","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0441\/7369\/products\/2_2_29d55b0a-dc86-4821-800d-d6dad869e2c0.jpeg?v=1752237541"}],"url":"https:\/\/inpressbooks.co.uk\/collections\/elena-shvarts\/jeff-nosbaum.oembed","provider":"Inpress Books","version":"1.0","type":"link"}