A poem written in honour of the great Russian writer Pushkin
By Mikhail Lermontov
Death of the Poet
Revenge, the Emperor, revenge!
I will fall at your feet:
Be just and punish the murderer,
That his sentence in the next century
Heralded to offspring your right court,
And that the villains will see example in it.
The Poet's dead! - a slave to honor -
He fell, by rumor slandered,
Lead in his breast and thirsting for revenge,
Hanging his proud head!...
The Poet's soul could not endure
Petty insult's disgrace.
Against society he rose,
Alone, as always...and was slain!
Slain!...What use is weeping now,
The futile chorus of empty praise
Excuses mumbled full of pathos?
Fate has pronounced its sentence!
Was it not you who spitefully
Rebuffed his free, courageous gift
And for your own amusement fanned
The nearly dying flame?
Well now, enjoy yourselves...he couldn't
Endure the final torture:
Quenched is the marvelous light of genius,
Withered is the triumphal wreath.
Cold-bloodedly his murderer
Took aim...there was no chance of flight:
His empty heart beat evenly,
The pistol steady in his hand.
No wonder...from far away
The will of fate sent him to us
Like hundreds of his fellow vagrants
In search of luck and rank;
With impudence he mocked and scorned
The tongue and mores of this strange land;
He could not spare our glory,
Nor in that bloody moment know
"gainst what he'd raised his hand!...
He's slain - and taken by the grave
Like that unknown, but happy bard,
Victim of jealousy wild,
Of whom he sang with wondrous power,
Struck down, like him, by an unyielding hand.
Why did he quit the blissful peace of simple fellowship
To enter this society, so envious and stifling
To hearts of free and fiery passion?
Why did he give his hand to worthless slanderers,
How could he have believed their hollow words
And kindness, he, who'd ever understood his fellow man?...
And they removed his wreath, and set upon his head
A crown of thorns entwined in laurel:
The hidden spines were cruel
And pierced his noble brow;
Poisoned were his final moments
By sly insinuations of mockers ignorant,
And thus he died - for vengeance vainly thirsting
Secretly vexed by false hopes deceived.
The wondrous singing's ceased,
T'will never sound again.
His refuge, gloomy and small,
His lips forever sealed.
_____
And you, the offspring arrogant
Of fathers known for malice,
Crushing with slavish heels the ruins
Of clans aggrieved by fortune's game!
You, greedy hordes around the throne,
Killers of Freedom, Genius and Glory!
You hide beneath the canopy of law
Fall silent - truth and justice before you...
But justice also comes from God, corruption's friends!
The judge most terrible awaits you:
He's hardened to the clink of gold,
He knows your future thoughts and deeds.
Then will you turn in vain to lies:
They will no longer help.
And your black blood won't wash away
The poet's sacred blood!
1837
The following notes are provided by Karim Filiakov, a first year student at Dallas College in Cape Town South Africa. The notes were originally in Russian and were translated by Karim into English.
This poem is a response to the tragic death of Pushkin who died Jan. 29, 1837. Lermontov was sick when he heard about the fatal duel. Lermontov learned of the last days of Pushkin’s from his doctor N.F. Arendt, who visited wounded poet. (Karim Filiakov, Cape Town, 2010)
In this poem Lermontov expresses his outrage at the Russian aristocracy because of their attitude towards Pushkin and also in regards to his death. Pushkin's death was not accidental, but was a consequence of the relationship between himself and the Court. According to contemporaries, Tsar Nikolay I received a copy of the poem. Lermontov and his friend – a writer and ethnographer, Svyatoslav Afanasievich Rayevski(1808-1876), who actively participated in the spreading of the poem, was arrested and prosecuted. In March, according to the sentence, Lermontov was sent to join a military regiment in the Caucasus.
Revenge, the Emperor, revenge! - The epigraph to the poem is taken from the tragedy of the French writer Jean de Rotrou (1609-1650) "Venceslas" (1648) and was modified by A.A. Gendre, a Russian playwright and translator.
The Poet's dead! - a slave to honor... - The phrase "slave of honor" was borrowed from the dedication to Pushkin's poem "The Prisoner of the Caucasus".
Cold-bloodedly his murderer took aim... - The killer of Pushkin was Georges d'Anthes(1812-1895), Lieutenant of the Cavalry Regiment (from 1834). He was adopted by Netherlands Envoy Baron L. Hecker, who, among other things, introduced Dantes to the salons at Court frequented by the Russian aristocracy. The persecution of the poet, which ended with the duel, was organized by this aristocracy. After the duel with Pushkin, Dantes was exiled to France.
...from far away тhe will of fate sent him to us, like hundreds of his fellow vagrants, in search of luck and rank... - Dantes arrives in St. Petersburg in 1833 after the War in the Vendee.
- like that unknown, but happy bard, Victim of jealousy wild... - a reminder about Vladimir Lensky from the Pushkin's novel "Eugene Onegin".
And you, the offspring arrogant of fathers known for malice... - This line and the ones that follow it were written later - in response to the words of those who justified the murder of the poet.
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