Archives par mot-clé : Pavel Filonov

LA SOLITUDE – Poème de Vladislav Khodassévitch – 1915 – Уединение – ВЛАДИСЛАВ ХОДАСЕВИЧ

Pavel Filonov,Autoportrait,1921,Selfportrait,Павел Филонов, Автопортрет

*Антология русской поэзии
Anthologie de la Poésie Russe
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LITTERATURE RUSSE
русская литература

стихотворение  – Poèmes

Traduction Jacky Lavauzelle 

Vladislav Khodasevich
Vladislav Khodassevitch

ВЛАДИСЛАВ ХОДАСЕВИЧ

 

 né le 16 mai 1886 Moscou – 14 juin 1939 Billancourt,

 

ПОЭЗИЯ ВЛАДИСЛАВА ХОДАССЕВИЧА

LA POÉSIE DE VLADISLAV KHODASSEVITCH

 

LA SOLITUDE
1915
Уединение

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Заветные часы уединенья!
Précieuses heures de solitude !
Ваш каждый миг лелею, как зерно;
Chaque instant je chéris, comme une graine ;
Во тьме души да прорастет оно
Dans les ténèbres de l’âme, tu laisses grandir
Таинственным побегом вдохновенья.
La fuite mystérieuse de l’inspiration.
В былые дни страданье и вино
Dans les temps anciens, la souffrance et le vin
Воспламеняли сердце. Ты одно
Enflammaient le cœur. Seule désormais
Живишь меня теперь — уединенье.
Tu vis en moi – solitude.

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С мечтою — жизнь, с молчаньем — песнопенье
Les rêves – à la vie, avec le silence
Связало ты, как прочное звено.
Tu les attaches avec un lien puissant.
Незыблемо с тобой сопряжено
Incontestablement, avec toi, sont inébranlables
Судьбы моей грядущее решенье.
Mon destin est mes choix.
И если мне погибнуть суждено —
Et si je suis destiné à mourir –
Про моряка, упавшего на дно,
D’un marin qui est tombé au fond de la mer,
Ты песенку мне спой — уединенье!
Tu me chantes une chanson – solitude !

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1915

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L’attribut alt de cette image est vide, son nom de fichier est Symbole-Artgitato.jpg.

JE REFUSE !- Poème de Marina Tsvétaïeva – 1939 – О слёзы на глазах! – Марина Ивановна Цветаева

Traduction Jacky Lavauzelle João da Cruz e Sousa
João da Cruz e Sousa Traduction Jacky Lavauzelle

LITTÉRATURE RUSSE
POÉSIE RUSSE
Русская литература

Русская поэзия


TRADUCTION JACKY LAVAUZELLE


L’attribut alt de cette image est vide, son nom de fichier est Par-Pierre-Choumoff.jpg.
Marina Tsvétaïeva – photo de Pierre Choumoff ( Пётр Ива́нович Шу́мов )

Marina Ivanovna Tsvetaïeva
Марина Ивановна Цветаева

poétesse russe
русская поэтесса
Moscou 26 septembre 1892 – Ielabouga 31 août 1941
26 сентября 1892, Москва — 31 августа 1941, Елабуга

L’attribut alt de cette image est vide, son nom de fichier est 1911-Photo-de-Maximilian-Voloshin-801x1024.jpeg.

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JE REFUSE !
1939
О слёзы на глазах!
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Pavel Filonov, Павел Николаевич Филонов,Formule de la pédagogie moderne, 1923

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О слёзы на глазах!
Ô larmes dans les yeux !
Плач гнева и любви!
Pleurs de colère et d’amour !…

15 марта — 11 мая 1939
15 mars – 11 mai 1939

L’attribut alt de cette image est vide, son nom de fichier est Signature-2.png.

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Poésie de Marina Tsvétaïéva
Поэзия Марины Чветаевой

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L’attribut alt de cette image est vide, son nom de fichier est En-1924.jpg.
Marina Tsvétaïeva en 1924
João da Cruz e Sousa Traduction Jacky Lavauzelle

THE DEATH OF COLORS & THE PAINTER OF THE NIGHT – JACKY LAVAUZELLE

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 The God Vagabond
THE DEATH OF COLORS & THE PAINTER OF THE NIGHT of Jacky Lavauzelle


Jacky Lavauzelle Poetry
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Family of peasants (oil on canvas, 1914) Colors Jacky Lavauzelle
Pavel Filonov, Павел Николаевич Филонов, Family of peasants, oil on canvas, 1914


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THE GOD VAGABOND
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THE DEATH OF COLORS & THE PAINTER OF THE NIGHT
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POEMS
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The colors, the colors flowed. The colors flowed constantly.
The colors of the legends. And around the legends, the painters had gathered. The world was losing its colors.
Black was progressing and enveloping the universe.
All the wise men were gone.
They had found no solution.
All the philosophers were gone. Philosophers did not understand the root cause.
Politicians were expected. They never came. It seems they are gathering near the border of the world.
The painters were there. Last bulwark against total darkness and eternal night. They pulled out brushes and brushes again. They came out of the tubes of colors. Of all the tubes, only came out of the black.
Arrived the Painter of the Night! Nobody invited him. He only painted black! Nobody needed him. He alone saw lights in his darkness and in the night that devoured everything. The others laughed and laughed at him.
The Painter of the Night then took his finest brush. And traced a thin line in the night, without worrying about the few colors that remained.
Behind the black, a light of the most beautiful intensity, magic, only asked to go out and join the peaks.
It was a new light that no longer covered the objects. She started from the sap and the essence of things …
The Night Painter finishes his work before dumbfounded humans.
But the men were so afraid that we took his brush and broke it. The crack closed and since then men have all become blind in this world.
At the bottom of a cave, one man, one, still smiles and traces long sarabandes of light that illuminates his heart …

 

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 The God Vagabond
THE DEATH OF COLORS & THE PAINTER OF THE NIGHT of Jacky Lavauzelle


Jacky Lavauzelle Poetry