The image of Phaedra, symbolizing criminal, fatal love, has attracted creators since the time of myth. From antiquity through classicism to the twentieth century, the story of a queen who fell in love with her stepson, slandered him for not responding to her feelings, and committed suicide, realizing her guilt in his death, has been interpreted with different shades, but nowhere has the voice of Phaedra herself sounded so clearly and vividly , as in the works of Marina Tsvetaeva. Both the poem and the poetic drama are dedicated to the tragic image of the ancient queen.
There are many reasons for Tsvetaeva’s appeal to the image of Phaedra: this is the poetess’s unique ability to feel Antiquity (probably received from her father, a professor of classical philology and archeology), this is her love for mythology and folklore, this is the desire to deeply penetrate the world of female feelings. The talent to “sing the feeling”, the feeling of a woman, is exactly like this, “Fedrino”: “Love for me is loving. And one more thing: I always feel the third person loving in return. There are my breasts - and you." Not only the ability to describe such love, but also the life permeated by it, a unique poetic language, not readable, but precisely a sounding syllable... This plexus gives birth to Phaedra, speaking, moaning, screaming, like (surprisingly: not in the voice of a poet, but as if in her own - or consonant with the author’s voice) all Tsvetaeva’s heroines.
In 1923, M. Tsvetaeva created the poem “Phaedra”, two parts of which - “Complaint” and “Message” - are like a designation of genres. The poem about Phaedra is written from the perspective of Phaedra herself. These monologues do not tell us the ancient plot, they represent a peak moment, they sing and cry a hymn to burning love. “Complaint” is a fever, love is a disease: “It scorches... In the heat of my cheeks...”, “My ardent mind is inflamed.” Such a number of means of expressiveness, images, sound recording itself, circling around the concept of wound, thirst, illness, affirms Phaedra not as a criminal, but as a sufferer, a dying woman with her hand extended in a complaint-prayer not to the gods, but to Hippolytus. The form itself sets the intensity, with the help of gradation the impression of pain is enhanced, even punctuation intensifies the poem - screams, exclamation marks and repetitions cut its canvas, allowing us to be involved, to hear this appeal. The poem ends with a fading request: “Hippolytus, quench ...”, flowing into the second part - “Message”. The first now seems to be a plea into the void, to space and fate, while the second is an appeal to someone who should not and cannot answer, it begins more calmly: passion is revealed, but at first it seems as if there was an attempt to restrain it. Here Phaedra is tired of her fever, but cannot help but ask for quenching... And the main thing is the very focus of the gaze on Phaedra, the like of which was not found in either the ancient authors or Racine: “It is not simple shamelessness that cries out to you!” . This is the justification of Phaedra by the heart of Tsvetaeva, who does not curse, but glorifies - or curses and glorifies such love. “Insatiable Phaedra” is worthy of glorification in the mouth of Tsvetaeva. After all, such are many of her lyrical heroines, lyrical heroines in general. She is a warrior (“And in the last argument I will take you - shut up!”, is filled and lives with love (“But without love we perish”), gives (“I gave you - so much! I gave too much!”), she, as Tsvetaeva spoke about herself - sea foam, more broadly - the elements. “Only a girl” and a queen; formidable in love, like lightning and vulnerable, pleading (“Cuddle me - but I ask, be a friend: not with letters, but with the cabin of your hands”) ; Russian fairy-tale princess, sophisticated lady; Ariadne, Magdalene, Ophelia; many faces - and one heroine, always passion. Rejected love is sung by Tsvetaeva, just compare “The Message” and, for example, “Ophelia to Hamlet” (another message from another heroine) Phaedra, a mature woman in anguish, reproaches:
Oh forgive me, virgin! boy! rider! neg
Hater!
And this reproach is surprisingly similar to the reproach of the young, immaculate Ophelia!
Virgin! Misogynist! Nonsense
Preferred undead!..
In this work, the author rushes between faith and unbelief, and “God is present only as an interlocutor, an artistic image.” Both Hippolytus and Hamlet are guilty of preferring ideals, struggle, thoughts, virtue over love. Tsvetaeva does not reject the interpretation of the image of Phaedra that has developed in world culture, but in her mouth even the shadow of this interpretation fades.
Phaedra is mainly revealed by Tsvetaeva in the tragedy of the same name. According to researchers, Tsvetaeva “experienced the peak of her passion for antiquity in 1922–1924.” . The writer conceived a trilogy (two versions of the title - “Theseus” and “The Wrath of Aphrodite”). “In a letter to A.A. Teskova dated November 28, 1927. Tsvetaeva reports: “My Theseus is conceived as a trilogy: Ariadne - Phaedra - Elena.” "Phaedra" was written in 1927. “The structure of the first of her “ancient” tragedies, Ariadne, shows that<…>Tsvetaeva sought to recreate the “spirit” of ancient Greek tragedy. The next piece, “Phaedra,” was much more independent in its poetics.” Let us add that it is not so much following the plot and the plot itself that is important here, the whole meaning is contained in Phaedra alone, the plot has been compressed to one point - feeling and tragedy. Another author who described the tragedy of Phaedra, Jean Racine, also modifies the plot, as he writes in the preface to the tragedy, but in general “tried to strictly adhere to the myth.”
“Phaedra” by Tsvetaeva – four sketches (and without the “unity” that reigns in Racine) about death. In the first scene, those who destroy many of Tsvetaeva’s heroines appear: proud young men who despise love. The hymn to Artemis, pride, Hippolytus, “the hater of the female race” (opponents of love) is interrupted by the appearance of Phaedra. He helps her get out of the forest, but it is he who will “lead” Phaedra into the abyss, the abyss of her passion. “I serve Aphrodite,” but it is Aphrodite’s anger that will fall on the queen. Everything is rock. Fedra Tsvetaeva is significantly different in that she meets Ippolit and falls in love with him, not yet knowing who he is (which immediately removes some of the guilt!). In Racine, Phaedra is already at the beginning a queen who commands and has power. Although she does not have power over passion, she has power: her will to show hostility towards Hippolytus, her will not to ask, but to demand help from the nurse. Tsvetaeva seems like a young, exhausted maiden. The negotiations of the maids present a picture of an “unknown illness” (the interweaving of the Russian folk language into an ancient plot!). “Not her own, not her anymore” - Fate has taken possession of Phaedra, the tragedy is already happening. The Nurse tells the story of Phaedra's family (the curse is Phaedra's other excuse). And then another line appears: Theseus still belongs not to Phaedra, but to her sister - another male culprit. With words, the nurse nurtures Phaedra’s illness, but this looks like the care of a nanny (that’s what Phaedra calls the nurse), trying to guess the cause of the “child’s” suffering. Phaedra trembles in her fear, cannot hear her beloved, evil name, but is also unable to remain silent. The disease is rapid. Phaedra's ecstatic feeling, expressed, burns even hotter. You can notice that with the help of short remarks, throwing them in the style of Tsvetaeva, Phaedra resists falling more than, for example, in Racine. She goes through all possible reasons to hold on. But in conversations, I repeat, love is nourished (repetitions show the ecstatic movement of the soul) [for example, see: 8, p. 660]. Later, Phaedra appears to Hippolytus (she does not call - imperiously - like Racine, but as if she is coming “to confess”). “Legs are bare, braids are down...”, an embarrassed young girl, in front of the proud Hippolytus - now - she is like that (he does not recognize the queen). She prays “half a sound, half a look,” like life-giving water. Existence is determined by the love and behavior of Hippolytus: the eyes faded, because Hippolytus looked past; beauty has dried up - Hippolytus’s eyes do not see it. Again the comparison of love with a mortal wound. The dialogue with the oath shows how Phaedra’s naturally pure being resists the “sonship” of Hippolytus. It reveals history, “you were the beginning,” but also a look, a sound, and a knock—and rock itself. Love reveals, but what it says is dark, not akin to earthly things. Love-torment, as often with Tsvetaeva, gnaws so much that the heroine sees complete peace in unity already in death, because only death can interrupt passion. Phaedra is impersonal: not a mother, not a wife, not a queen, but love itself. For this stormy flow of love, Hippolytus does not have a single healing drop, and only one word - “reptile”, like a blow of a sword, cutting off speech - and the head. The image of a tree runs through the entire tragedy - with a burned, lonely tree, it is the “little tree” that Phaedra can compare with. The “strange” ending of the Inquiry chapter comes true in full in the last chapter. Ippolitovo’s “reptile” establishes Tsvetaeva’s position - but only on the contrary, not contempt for Phaedra, but sympathy. “Aphrodite’s Charm” is powerless against such an opponent; Tsvetaeva’s such opponents are loved, but enemies. This Phaedra has no desire to slander, like the ancient authors or Racine, there is no motive to crave power, there are no children, there is no desire to clear her name, there is nothing but the voice of love, in this she is purer than many other Phaedras in literature. She perishes not because she is stained, but because she is rejected. Then there is polyphony: a choir that reveals the truth (Tsvetaeva, unlike Racine, has the necessary face of ancient tragedy, and the choir accounts for a significant part of the text). This chorus emphasizes the melodiousness, folkloric quality and a certain not even mythological, but fabulousness of the paintings of the tragedy. The real truth comes at the end - something that follows from the guilt of Theseus (for abandoning love, Ariadne), and stands even above it - the wrath of the gods, fate, the last justification for Phaedra, Hippolytus, everything, “all innocent”. For comparison: Racine says about Phaedra that (according to the canons) she should “evoke compassion and horror.” Fedra Tsvetaeva is paradoxical. She, especially at the end, evokes only compassion (horror is what happened to her), and this should be further from the ancient interpretation, but stands closer than Phaedra of classicism, Racine, in terms of the power of madness, the absence of rationality. According to the “conclusions,” she stands further and apart from everyone before her, because for Tsvetaeva, irrational love is always justified. And he triumphs in a better world, where “there are no stepsons or stepmothers”, there is reconciliation.
M. Voloshin, after the release of Tsvetaeva’s book “Evening Album,” said about the author (among other poetesses) this way: “Each of them speaks not only for herself, but also for a great many women, each is<…>in a voice of feminine depth." Tsvetaeva’s lyrical heroines are not only deeply in tune with her personally, but also collective images of passionate and feminine Love. Among them is Phaedra, special due to the combination of the personal - in the symbolic, the author's - with something understandable to any Soul.
Bibliography:
- Voitekhovich R.S. How to describe antiquity in the works of Marina Tsvetaeva // Works on Russian and Slavic philology. Literary studies. V. Tartu: Tartu Ülikooli Kirjastus, 2005. pp. 180–193.
- Voitekhovich R.S. The evolution of the concept of the dramatic duology “Theseus” by Marina Tsvetaeva // Binoculars: Vyatka Cultural Journal. 2002. No. 18. pp. 10–13.
- Voloshin M.A. Women's poetry // Morning of Russia. 1910. No. 323, December 11 [Electronic resource] – Access mode: http://tsvetaeva.lit-info.ru/tsvetaeva/kritika/voloshin-zhenskaya-poeziya.htm (access date 03.03.2017)
- Ivanova I.S. Time and the image of Phaedra in the works of Euripides “Hippolytus”, J. Racine “Phaedra” and in the lyrics of M. Tsvetaeva // Service plus. Science Magazine. Series "Culturology". 2015, issue. 3, vol. 9. pp. 71 – 79
- Racine Jean. Tragedies. - L.: Nauka, 1977. – 432 p.
- Tsvetaeva M.I. Collection Op. in 7 volumes. Volume 1. - M.: Ellis Luck, 1994. - 640 p.
- Tsvetaeva M.I. Collection Op. in 7 volumes. Volume 2. - M.: Ellis Luck, 1994. - 592 p.
- Tsvetaeva M.I. Collection Op. in 7 volumes. Volume 3. - M.: Ellis Luck, 1994. - 816 p.
- Tsvetaeva M.I. Poems. Poems. Selected Prose. - M.: Eksmo, 2008. - 800 p.
Jean Baptiste Racine
"Phaedra"
Hippolytus, the son of the Athenian king Theseus, goes in search of his father, who has been wandering somewhere for six months. Hippolytus is the son of an Amazon. Theseus's new wife Phaedra disliked him, as everyone thinks, and he wants to leave Athens. Phaedra is sick with an incomprehensible disease and “wants to die.” She talks about her suffering, which the gods sent her, about the fact that there is a conspiracy around her and they “decided to kill her.” Fate and the wrath of the gods aroused in her some kind of sinful feeling that terrifies her and which she is afraid to speak about openly. She makes every effort to overcome her dark passion, but in vain. Phaedra thinks about death and waits for it, not wanting to reveal her secret to anyone.
Oenon's nurse fears that the queen's mind is clouded, for Phaedra herself does not know what she is saying. Oenone reproaches her for the fact that Phaedra wants to offend the gods by interrupting her “thread of life,” and calls on the queen to think about the future of her own children, that the “arrogant Hippolytus” born of the Amazon will quickly take away their power. In response, Phaedra states that her “sinful life already lasts too long, but her sin is not in her actions, the heart is to blame for everything - it is the cause of torment. However, Phaedra refuses to say what her sin is and wants to take her secret to the grave. But he can’t stand it and admits to Oenone that he loves Hippolytus. She's terrified. As soon as Phaedra became the wife of Theseus and saw Hippolytus, “now flames, now chills” tormented her body. This is the “omnipotent fire of Aphrodite,” the goddess of love. Phaedra tried to appease the goddess - “she erected a temple for her, decorated it,” made sacrifices, but in vain, neither incense nor blood helped. Then Phaedra began to avoid Hippolytus and play the role of an evil stepmother, forcing her son to leave his father’s house. But everything is in vain.
The maid Panope reports that news has been received that Phaedra’s husband Theseus has died. Therefore, Athens is worried - who will be king: the son of Phaedra or the son of Theseus, Hippolytus, born of a captive Amazon? Oenone reminds Phaedra that the burden of power now falls on her and she has no right to die, since then her son will die.
Arikia, a princess from the Athenian royal family of the Pallantes, whom Theseus deprived of power, learns of his death. She is worried about her fate. Theseus kept her captive in a palace in the city of Troezen. Hippolytus is elected ruler of Troezen and Yemen, Arikia's confidante believes that he will free the princess, since Hippolytus is not indifferent to her. Arikia was captivated by Hippolyte’s spiritual nobility. While maintaining a “high resemblance” to his illustrious father, he did not inherit his father’s low traits. Theseus became notorious for seducing many women.
Hippolytus comes to Arikia and announces to her that he is canceling his father’s decree about her captivity and giving her freedom. Athens needs a king and the people nominate three candidates: Hippolytus, Arikia and the son of Phaedra. However, Hippolytus, according to ancient law, if he was not born a Hellenic woman, cannot own the Athenian throne. Arikia belongs to the ancient Athenian family and has all the rights to power. And the son of Phaedra will be the king of Crete - this is what Hippolytus decides, remaining the ruler of Troezen. He decides to go to Athens to convince the people of Arikia's right to the throne. Arikia cannot believe that the son of her enemy is giving her the throne. Hippolyte replies that he never knew what love was before, but when he saw it, he “humbled himself and put on love chains.” He thinks about the princess all the time.
Phaedra, meeting with Hippolytus, says that she is afraid of him: now that Theseus is gone, he can bring down his anger on her and her son, taking revenge for the fact that he was expelled from Athens. Hippolytus is indignant - he could not have acted so low. Additionally, the rumor of Theseus' death may be false. Phaedra, unable to control her feeling, says that if Hippolytus had been older when Theseus arrived in Crete, then he, too, could have accomplished the same feats - kill the Minotaur and become a hero, and she, like Ariadne, would have given him a thread so as not to get lost in the Labyrinth, and would link her fate with it. Hippolytus is perplexed; it seems to him that Phaedra is daydreaming, mistaking him for Theseus. Phaedra reinterprets his words and says that she loves not the old Theseus, but the young one, like Hippolytus, she loves him, Hippolytus, but does not see her guilt in this, since she has no power over herself. She is a victim of divine wrath; it is the gods who sent her love that torments her. Phaedra asks Hippolytus to punish her for her criminal passion and take the sword out of its sheath. Hippolyte runs in horror; no one should know about the terrible secret, not even his mentor Teramen.
A messenger arrives from Athens to hand Phaedra the reins of government. But the queen does not want power, she does not need honors. She cannot rule the country when her own mind is not under her control, when she has no control over her feelings. She had already revealed her secret to Hippolytus, and the hope of a reciprocal feeling awakened in her. Hippolytus is a Scythian on his mother’s side, says Oenone, savagery is in his blood - “he rejected the female sex, and does not want to know it.” However, Phaedra wants to awaken love in Hippolyte, “wild as the forest”; no one has yet spoken to him about tenderness. Phaedra asks Oenone to tell Hippolytus that she is transferring all power to him and is ready to give her love.
Oenone returns with the news that Theseus is alive and will soon be in the palace. Phaedra is seized with horror, for she is afraid that Hippolytus will reveal her secret and expose her deception to her father, saying that her stepmother is dishonoring the royal throne. She thinks of death as salvation, but fears for the fate of her children. Oenone offers to protect Phaedra from dishonor and slander Hippolytus before his father, saying that he desired Phaedra. She undertakes to arrange everything herself in order to save the honor of the lady “in spite of her conscience,” for “so that honor is... without a spot for everyone, and it is not a sin to sacrifice virtue.”
Phaedra meets with Theseus and tells him that he is offended, that she is not worth his love and tenderness. He asks Hippolytus in bewilderment, but the son replies that his wife can reveal the secret to him. And he himself wants to leave to accomplish the same feats as his father. Theseus is surprised and angry - upon returning to his home, he finds his family in confusion and anxiety. He feels that something terrible is being hidden from him.
Oenone slandered Hippolytus, and Theseus believed, remembering how pale, embarrassed and evasive his son was in conversation with him. He drives Hippolytus away and asks the god of the sea Poseidon, who promised him to fulfill his first will, to punish his son. Hippolytus is so amazed that Phaedra blames him for criminal passion that he cannot find words to justify himself - his “tongue has become ossified.” Although he admits that he loves Arikia, his father does not believe him.
Phaedra tries to persuade Theseus not to harm her son. When he tells her that Hippolytus is supposedly in love with Arikia, Phaedra is shocked and offended that she has a rival. She did not imagine that anyone else could awaken love in Hippolyte. The queen sees the only way out for herself - to die. She curses Oenone for denigrating Hippolytus.
Meanwhile, Hippolytus and Arikia decide to flee the country together.
Theseus tries to assure Arikia that Hippolytus is a liar and she listened to him in vain. Arikia tells him that the king cut off the heads of many monsters, but “fate saved one monster from the formidable Theseus” - this is a direct allusion to Phaedra and her passion for Hippolytus. Theseus does not understand the hint, but begins to doubt whether he has learned everything. He wants to interrogate Oenone again, but finds out that the queen drove her away and she threw herself into the sea. Phaedra herself rushes about in madness. Theseus orders his son to be called and prays to Poseidon not to fulfill his wish.
However, it is too late - Teramen brings the terrible news that Hippolytus has died. He was riding a chariot along the shore, when suddenly an unprecedented monster appeared from the sea, “a beast with the face of a bull, forehead and horns, and with a body covered with yellowish scales.” Everyone rushed to run, and Hippolytus threw a spear at the monster and pierced the scales. The dragon fell at the feet of the horses, and they bolted out of fear. Hippolytus could not hold them back; they rushed without a road, along the rocks. Suddenly the axle of the chariot broke, the prince became entangled in the reins, and the horses dragged him along the ground strewn with stones. His body turned into a continuous wound, and he died in the arms of Teramen. Before his death, Ippolit said that his father had in vain brought accusations against him.
Theseus is horrified; he blames Phaedra for the death of his son. She admits that Hippolytus was innocent, that she was “by the will of higher powers... kindled by an incestuous, irresistible passion.” Oenon, saving her honor, slandered Hippolytus. Oenon is now gone, and Phaedra, having removed innocent suspicion, ends her earthly torment by taking poison.
The son of an Amazon and an Athenian king, Hippolytus, was expelled from the city by his stepmother. Phaedra pretends to be angry and cruel. She is consumed by a strange illness, which she does not admit to anyone. The queen attributes the horror and sin of her feelings to the anger of the goddess Aphrodite. Phaedra built a temple for her and made sacrifices, but in vain. Now the queen wants and is waiting for death, which will save her from torment. Having become the wife of Theseus, Phaedra fell madly in love with Hippolytus, her stepson. News of Theseus's death arrives in Athens. It now depends on Phaedra who will rule: her son or the son of the Amazon, Hippolytus.
In Troezen, Arikia, the princess of the Pallant family subjugated by Theseus, is being held captive. Hippolytus rules the city. Arikia hopes for her liberation, because the ruler has the reputation of a noble man and loves her.
Hippolytus frees Arikia and announces three contenders for the throne of Athens: himself, Arikia and the son of Phaedra. Arikia belongs to the ancient family of Hellenes, so it has all the rights to reign. Hippolytus travels to Athens to settle matters regarding the inheritance of the throne.
In a conversation with Phaedra, Hippolytus learns about her painful passion. He assures his stepmother that he will not take revenge on her and her son for his expulsion. He expresses hope that Theseus is alive, that rumors about his death are false. Hippolytus is embarrassed by the terrible confessions of the mad Phaedra. She asks him to kill her with his sword to stop the torment of criminal passion.
An envoy from Athens arrives to hand Phaedra the reins of government of the city. The queen cannot control her thoughts, and cannot think about state affairs at all. Phaedra gives Hippolytus power and her love. She hopes to awaken love in him through tender conversations. News comes to Athens that Theseus is alive and returning. Phaedra is afraid that Hippolytus will reveal her secret to her father. Oenone, the nurse, invites her stepmother to slander her stepson. With hints about some kind of shame, Phaedra arouses the wrath of Theseus. Hippolyte does not tell the truth, citing his stepmother’s secret, which he has no right to divulge. Oenone told about Phaedra's passion, but Hippolyta pointed out the culprit. Theseus believed the woman, although his son spoke of his love for Arikia. The king asks Poseidon, the god of the sea, to punish Hippolytus. Phaedra wants to persuade Theseus to have mercy on her son and curses Oenone for slander. The nurse throws herself into the sea.
Arikia points Theseus to the true monster whose head must be cut off - Phaedra. The king realizes that he hastened to deal with his son and asks Poseidon not to punish Hippolytus. But he had already died in a battle with a sea monster. Phaedra confesses everything to Theseus and accepts poison as her only salvation.
Hippolytus! Hippolytus! Hurts!
Scorches... In the heat of the cheeks...
What cruel horror is hidden
In this name is Hippolyta!
Just a long wave
Oh granite coast.
Scorched by Hippolytus!
I swear by Hippolytus and I rave!
They want to put their hands on the ground - from the shoulders!
Teeth want crushed stone - into sawdust!
Cry together and lie down together!
My ardent mind is inflamed...
Right in the nostrils and lips - dust
Herculaneum... I'm fading... I'm going blind...
Ippolit, this is worse than drinking!
This is drier than sand and ash!
This is a horsefly in an open cry
Splashing wounds... The horsefly is angry...
This is a red wound to jump
Burnt mare!
Hippolytus! Hippolytus! Hide it!
This peplum is like a crypt.
There is Elysium - for - nags:
Knackery! - The horsefly is burning!
Hippolytus! Hippolytus! Captured!
It's in Percy, my key is hot,
Ippolitova in return
Petal - the beak of the Harpies!
Hippolytus! Hippolytus! Drink!
Son and stepson? Co-companion!
This is lava - instead of slabs
Under your feet! - Will Olympus grumble?
Olympians?! Their gaze is sleeping!
Celestials - we - sculpt!
Hippolytus! Hippolytus! In a raincoat!
This peplum is like a crypt!
Hippolytus, quench...
Forest. Ippolit with friends.
YOUTH CHORUS
Oh, thicket! oh, the call!
Oh new hills
Let's praise fishing!
What's better than fighting?
Praise Artemis for the heat, for the sweat,
For the black thicket, - Aida entrance
Lighter! - for a leaf, for a needle,
For hot hands in the game of the stream, -
Praise be to Artemis for everything and everyone
Ambush. Fright:
What - rock or bitches?
Branched
Bush - or spruce?
No, a rushing shadow
Callistas!
Praise be to Artemis for the ford, for the shore,
Before - before out of breath, fast running
Along a leafy gorge.
You are making noise with the spring watercourse!
Praise to Artemis for feelings and muscles
A branch that gave into the eye.
What - a stump or a boar?
Who? Roots with a tourniquet?
With a bestial leap -
To the valley!
Praise be to Artemis for the glance, for the little
Without hitting it, the gun cannot be blown away
From the stamen. Oh, smell: oh, sight
Thicket! – Sultry lips in the play of the stream...
You become Elena, galloping after
The forehead is pouring, the mouth is dry.
With a trained sense of smell -
Moss, fur
Spirit, horns and moss
Spirit! Breasts are like fur.
- Ho! - Echo!
Praise be to Artemis for the shame, for the harm,
For false joy, for a false trail,
The move is false - all the torment is in vain!
A hidden dinner and a night in the ditch!
Kudos to Artemis for the entire game
The fishing is over. The fever subsided.
Cool. Halt.
Chest, side, beaten to blood,
The catcher guts
Praise be to Artemis for the horn, for the fang,
Last daring, last cry
Hunter, - gasped, hooted
Forest. Overturned. Roots down!
Praise be to Artemis for the fur, for...
Ringing. The spirit is out.
We don't need wives!
Both now and in the future
Let's celebrate friendship!
Let's celebrate courage!
We have no sweetness for wives!
We don’t have children to nurture.
Let's celebrate brotherhood!
Let's celebrate virginity!
House with household members?
No, a forest with something unprecedented!
We will be called game,
Artemidin's army.
You spin Ellen,
Don't touch the earth!
Let's praise the speed,
Let's praise the speedy one!
Don't sing that you're straight!
Bend - soft lips!
To fall in love - to bow:
Let's sing lovelessness!
Another delicacy -
Into hot resin.
To marry is to cry,
Let's sing celibacy!
Forest, green forest!
Fast water!
Sagittarius is not a survivor:
To get married is to settle down!
No troubles, no fun -
Silent murder.
A proud man is not a father:
To be fruitful - to be divided!
It has not been given yet - it has already been taken away!
Brief, brief is the age of the hunter.
Moment - flowers bloomed for him.
Shorter than arrows!
Water is pouring, trouble is accumulating.
The hunter is being hunted.
Night, road, stone, dream -
Everything, and hidden in everything
Gods. Not to the wise priest
The deity is attracted to prowess.
The brave man does not live long.
He himself is the intended game.
Not to pompous intentions, -
The deity is drawn to youth.
Marble is susceptible to tanning.
Every youth is a baker
God. The dancers are more zealous
The deity is drawn to mortality.
More than them -
We, the marble ones, need us.
Here it is, the forest! Here it is, the onion!
From cave rudeness
Artemidine's servants
No one will fall in love.
Here it is, the century! Here it is, gold!
From distant sights
Artemidine children
No one gets married!
And ever and now,
In the mountains and in the hollow,
Let's eat the goddess
Only one friend
Our share and our prowess -
Green-haired Artemis!
And loud and a lot,
And in fables and in faces,
Dawn God
Let's eat the twins:
Courageous, majestic
Artemis with long strides.
Eternal watermelon,
Eternal flour miller,
Like a laurel ever green,
Like Pontus is eternally free -
So eternal in our clay heart
Artemis is tall.
I took a hundred, I’ll crash into this one.
At the hour of breaking ribs,
As long as there is even a breath in us -
Let's eat, let's eat
Mistress, secret
Artemis, the arrogant one.
Praise - and louder!
Darkness and earlyness,
Here she is with the hound,
Here she is with a doe,
In the leaves, as in flocks,
Night and day
With a knee that can't keep up
Fabric - wrist! - bandage! - comb! -
In running ahead of the body.
Along the labyrinths
Hazy greenery
Here she is with a nymph
Faithful, Callista,
Without cooling down
In zeal and in joy,
With not keeping up with the movement
A shadow lost at the breaks
Run. Leader without followers.
Complete happiness
Can it ripen?
Here she is in the thicket,
Here it is in the heart
Own. Line up,
The forest is variegated!
So that the trunks, like a palisade,
Surrounded - unite, walls! -
Water running handed members
Driven...
Time, give up, and foam, kan!
The fabric will not catch up with the knees.
Disgraced, sit on a stump.
The shadow will not catch up with the movement,
We will bend against time:
The chest won't catch up with the breath.
We will race against time:
The strand will not catch up with the back of the head,
The ear is an echo, the poet is a century...
But if he catches up with the deer, he runs
Artemidin.
In herbs and leaves - praise her!
Its frequent leaves are its curls.
In branches and twigs - praise her!
Branches? no, her arms, her legs.
Everything that comes out of the circle is hers!
In every strain there are her muscles!
Friend, and honor her in the turf!
Black roots are her will.
Her heart is unshakable -
Bare blocks are her heart!
The beast howls, the forest blows,
And separately, and at once,
Let's eat lily,
Reese white never
I am not darkened by the filth of love:
Stone-hearted Artemis.
At the right time - defeat us,
Arrow without successors!
Let's eat innocence
Let's eat arrogance
Flesh, visible only to the lake!
Artemis tremulosa.
But it’s amazing - through the leaves!
But it’s amazing - like in a haze...
And in songs and in thoughts
We’ll approve yours
The menacing goddess around -
Hippolyta the Deer-Eyed
With an inelastic mouth,
With a mouth - an unbreakable onion!
Goddess friend
Let's eat. Let's eat
Artemidin's friend from above -
Hippolyta the womanist.
Nose - smelled spicy things,
The forehead - the difficult one moved.
Aegean grandson,
Son of Theseus,
Hater of the feminine gender -
Ippolita we will eat Tresensky.
Let's drive away the clouds, move the bowls,
Let's delve into praise
Chaste goddess
An unsociable pet.
Her beloved is unsociable -
Hippolytus the elusive -
Whose hearing is marvelous, whose gaze is wonderful.
Under the bush, where sleep falls,