Russian poetry - Maxim Gorky - The Song of the Stormy Petrel (1901) English subtitles

[EstebanEspinosa87]

Круто ;-))

[EvgenyPanfilov]

особенно наглядна теперь маразматичность этого куска поэзии...

[ksendzsurala]

@EvgenyPanfilov Эта поэма не маразматична. Просто она не детская и не для тех, кто дожив до старости сохраняет в девственной чистоте ум 7-летнего ребенка.. Маразматики те, кто включил ее в школьный курс для инфантильных малолеток. Довести до абсурда можно все свете. Хоть Илиаду, хоть Слово о полку Игореве, хоть Песнь о Роланде, хоть всего Шекспира вместе со всем Пушкиным. Дай только поглумиться над классикой недоноскам с куриными мозгами, которым еще рано читать даже Курочку-Рябу.

[EvgenyPanfilov]

@ksendzsurala Скажите, Вы поцреот?

[alvesrocha]

instant favorite

[NestaEVP]

His is jew

Gorky enemy of Russia

[ksendzsurala]

Maxim Gorky - THE SONG OF THE STORMY PETREL (1901)

(Translation: Dino)

Over the gray plain of the sea the wind gathers storm-clouds.

Between the clouds and the sea proudly soars the stormy petrel,

as a streak of black lightning.

[ksendzsurala]

Now the waves on wingtip touching, now as an arrow soaring to the clouds,

he screams, and — the clouds hear joy in the bird's proud cry. In that cry — the lust of the storm!

The power of anger, flame of passion

and certainty in victory hear the clouds in that cry.

[ksendzsurala]

The seagulls groan before the storm, — groan, toss over the sea

and are ready to dive their terror to its depths.

And the loons also whimper, — the loons cannot attain

joy of life's struggle: thunder of lightning-bolts frightens them.

The stupid penguin cowardly hides blubber in the rocks...

[ksendzsurala]

Only the proud stormy petrel soars bold and free

over the grey sea froth!

Ever darker and lower clouds drop to the sea,

waves singing and rending the heights to meet the thunder.

Thunder rumbles. In pounding anger moan the waves, fighting the wind.

[ksendzsurala]

See the wind grab waves in a lockhold,

and in wild fury, throw them on the rocks, smashing emerald masses to drops and mist. The stormy petrel soars with a scream,

a streak of black lightning,

as an arrow pierces the clouds, on wing-tip slicing the wave froth.

[ksendzsurala]

See him hover, like a demon —

proud, black demon of the storm —

he laughs, and cries...

He laughs atop the clouds,

he cries with joy!

[ksendzsurala]

In the froth of anger — clever demon, —

he has long heard weariness,

he knows that the clouds won't cut the sun —

no, the sun will triumph!

The wind roars... Thunder rumbles...

[ksendzsurala]

As a blue flame burn clouds over the sea's abyss.

The sea catches arrows of lightning and snuffs them in her depths.

As snakes of fire howling in the deep vanish

those reflections.

[ksendzsurala]

— The storm! Soon will break the storm!

The bold stormy petrel proudly flies between the lightning

and the frothing anger of the sea;

now screams the prophet of victory: — Let the storm burst forth in all fury!