Translation of Lermontov’s Borodino

Tell me, uncle, why
Was Moscow horribly
Burnt to the ground
To rid the French from the town?
What of that terrible fight,
Yes, tell me of that!
It's not for nothing
All Russia, remembers Borodino!

Yes, these were people of our time,
Much along the modern lines
Heroes -- Not You!
Terrible the toll
Few returned to tell
T'was God Himself replied:
"Moscow shall be purified!"

We stumbled long, along the quiet way
Bitterly, horribly thirsty,
Grumbling veterans:
"What's with us?
Already, gone to winter quarters?
T'was a time, our commanders
Would laugh to scorn
Their uniforms all torn
On Russian bayonets!"

T'was a great field they found:
We saw them charging all around!
They built themselves a fort.
Our ears resounding the report!
The morrow saw their gunners
Blue-green forest thunder --
Frenchmen hither and thither.

I jammed the charge in my gun
I thought: here's one, my friend!
Good hunting, brother mine!
Takes brains to win a battle
Let's use our heads to break that wall
The Motherland calls!

Two days they shot up our tents
What utter nonsense!
Then came the third day
We heard our brothers day
"Get your shot and powder!"
Midst the terrible glower
Of lurid, nightly shadow-play.

Whilst slumbering 'neath my cannon
The dawn comes rumbling in
Frenchmen seek Salvation
Comes stealthily upon them
As finely sharpened steel
The angry winter kill
The finely sharpened quill.

A brilliant sky
All was stirring suddenly
Like meteors in the sky
Our noble colonel gallantly
Served father, czar, country
Such a pity
His blood's upon me.

So he said, his eyes afire
"My Children! Is Moscow clear?
For Moscow we must die
It is our destiny!"
And then we swore our oath
And we held to our troth
Borodino, Moscow's wrath.

Then came the day!
Swirling smoke at play
The French were as mist
All encircling, intermixed
Tatooed Ulany, horse-tailed dragoons
A flashing circus in bright pantaloons!

You've never seen a battle!...
Shadow banners flowing
Midst the smokey fires glowing
Whilst the sound of shot and steel
Greased the palm I scarcely feel
And there's nowhere left to fly
Bloody bodies piled high.

The enemy's out in force
We Russians shall do worse
We'll fight them tooth and nail
Like an earthquake -- see they quail!
Buried to our necks in gore
Horses, people by the score
Thousands make a stunning roar...

But I survived.

Yes, these were people of our time
An awesome, noble line
Heroes -- Not You.
Terrible the toll
Few returned to tell
The Lord himself replied
"Moscow shall be purified!"


© Copyright Jerome Raymond Kraus 2006