Violet, once again formed
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Violet, once again formed
Qasimkhan Bekmanov – the poet-lyricist, who got his assessment in Kazakh literature. And we can confidently say that he is one of the most famous authors of current decades of Kazakhstani literature whose poem recited by rote. Before we start talking about his works, we would take into account the views of famous poets about the author. Qadir Mirza Ali in the preface to the book of Qasimkhan Bekmanov noted that: «his poetry is far from fragmentariness, superficiality,instancyand negligence. He writes scooping every last drop. He can be divided into very small pieces, as mercury. Then, after everything he said, going back, teaming up as mercury. This is the law of nature, which belongs to the universal unique existence».
Qasimkhan Bekmanov can adorn and beautify poetry, as a marvelous and a young beauty. If you able to handle with poetry, it can be turn into a very valuable legacy, about who will speak, not only during his lifetime, but also in the future. Leave its own imprint on Kazakh literature for all times. To my mind, Qasimkhan Bekmanov achieved such a fate.
Now we will try to answer the question, what's new in his writingsfor Russian literature? Toanswerthisquestion, it’s worth considering that, poetry is not divisible by nation. Therefore, translating the poems of the most outstanding authors of Kazakh literature is relevant. Qasimkhan Bekmanov writes such works, that may be interesting not only to the Kazakh people, but to our neighbors. He introduces to them the different cities of Kazakhstan, skillfully describing them and expressing his own feelings to those cities by dint of his poems. In the poem «Kurenbel» the author picks up a touch of nostalgia for his youth associating it with the hills of Kurenbel town.
I can’t forget the hills of Kurenbel,
Carefree years were spent in their range.
That time I was greenhorn youngster,
My poems were only for you – really!
(Esimde Kurenbel qirlari,
Beymaza jildarim zirladi.
Ol kezde bozbala aqin edim,
Bir sen dep togilgen jirlari.)
Qasimkhan Bekmanov – is a lyricist. He is very actively applies in his own poems love and landscape lyrics. New sounds and colors filling his lovely sadness and experience. We know that the theme of love will never lose its meaning. In his creative writings finds its places not only love to the girl, but to the mother, for the homeland and to the edge. Remembering the tales of his mother he associates this work with the native land and its charms.
I suddenly remembered the tale told by my mother.
I passed the half of land roads.
So many worries now I have, but it narrowed the range …
- Holy Mother of my, you're in my soul, you are with me!
(Eske tusti ertegi apam aitqan bayagy,
Menin omir saparym jer ortaga tayady.
Tirlik boldy, bwul omir eshtene de wutpaitin,
Qairan ana, jan anam, Bir sutten shiqpai ushin barin )
One of the most famous poets of Russian Mikhail Sinelnikov was the acknowledged master of poetic translation. Many poets have noted what remarkable talent poetic possesses Sinelnikov. While reading his translations, you notice that he managed to save national identity of Qasimkhan Bekmanov. Preserved the spirit of the time and his work, as well as accurately and colorfully reproduced all the thoughts of the author.
English poet Percy Bysshe Shelley likened the process of translating poems with violets in the Crucible, he said that: «strive to convey the poet's creation from one language to another is the same as if we had thrown into the crucible of violet, to open the basic principle of its colors and odors. The plant should re-emerge from its own seed, or it will not give a flower-this is the severity of the curse of Babylon mixing languages». Mikhail Sinelnikov was able to fully understand the depth of creativity of Qasimkhan Bekmanov and brought the Russian audience to his creativity. The most valuable of these transfers that he could re-establish violet.
* * *
Twenty years, you was only in my dreams.
How could I stay alive without you?
Those eyes, those lips, voice sounds –
I am so passionately longed for – they are still fresh!
Here I stand infront of you …How I survived, tell me?
You were like a flower, - There are flowers,
That sad forced captivated soul.
I am broke up with you – do you knew? –
Was like a fish that dumped on land.
Was I since the childhood of steppe and strong and cool,
And longingly remember long beginning…
In forty years’ time the fortress to take and take!
Well, I was cast down, exhausted from sorrow.
Early, early to another in a way I found…
But love, like Grove, noises being green.
Forever bright your image, love Halo
Never go out over the life of mine.
* * *
Jiyrma jyl kormegenmin, kormegenmin,
Qalaysha tiri Qalgam, olmegenmin.
Kozine, yerinine, auyezine,
Olerdey bolyp janym, sholdegenmin,
Aldynda twurmyn mine, olmegenmin.
Mwundy qosqan ayauly gul yesimge,
Algashqy kezdesken kez jur yesimde.
Jagaga shygyp qalgan balyqtaymyn,
Men seni kormegen kүn, bilesin be?
Zhasymda shirygatyn, shyndalatyn,
Zhanym-au adet taptym mwundanatyn.
Qamal alar Qyryqta darmensiz qap,
Khalge de zhettim bilem zhyndanatyn.
Ozgemen shygyp ketken basyna yerte,
Makhabbat tangazhayyp zhasyl olke.
Mangilik bala beynen yeles bolyp,
Omirden men de otermin asyl yerke...
* * *
Like a river, moving from the riverbed and still come back.
I tear that fell with lash, go.
Heeded I to my haters, that ruined my soul all the times:
On myself, I look now like an outlander.
Body in the throes. Ogre I am of my ancestors,
Growing through from the ashes of the fires of the past.
Inseparable here singing gift and need …
Here's to the faces splatters autumn’s water.
Burning fire I embraced by it-
From an early age became a disease my Kazakhstan.
Days and nights of anguish not been empty.
Oh, not all lived before the days of hassles!
At the same track, I once again as it happened,
Your eyelashes with small Teardrop spreads.
* * *
Syimay aqqan arnaġa tubi ozendey tolarmyn,
Uziletin zhanardan bir tamshy zhas bolarmyn.
Man berdim de bir kүni zhaularymnyn sozine,
Ozim shygyp ozimnen qarap kordim ozime.
Denem menin dene yemes, kormesi yeken syrqattyn,
Ot keship kep koktegen synygy yedim wurpaqtyn.
Zhoqtyq penen aqyndyq zhagalasyp tuady,
Kuzgi tamshy zhuzindi qayta-qayta zhuady.
Keudemdegi laulagan sondiredi ortti kim,
Karshadaydan kazak dep kele zhatkan derttimin.
Sagynyshpen otti aylar, sagynyshpen otti tun,
Bwulyn-bwulyn bwul kunge zhetpedi kim, zhetti kim?
Shalkyp zhatkan arnasy tubi ozendey tolarmyn,
Uziletin kozinnen bir tamshy zhas bolarmyn.
Evening train station
Here's the other night, my road black,
And around spread snows.
This is the way to distant times.
In the administration of the composition is ready.
Here's a dog running out from behind a corner,
such as vile and pathetic,
All sniffed, Grove went around …
I heard swearing of conductor.
I am leaving and in my thoughts so such confusion –
So many pleasures, so much trouble!
Is the noise at the station all night long?
Along the road are not fading light.
Life has passed, swept through these places,
The sky of the motherland shines above it.
But a strange emptiness in my soul.
The train moves all the way faster.
And am I ready for meeting? Well, what’s wrong with me?!
Heart ache …But what should I return?
Soon get out of the train in the world of the steppe,
Dip in his silence.
KESHKI VOKZAL
Kary tau bop uyilgen,
Karauytyp zhol zhatyr.
Zhugi ten-ten tuyilgen,
Sostav temir zholda twur.
Shykkan kanden bwuryshtan,
Timiskilep bau ishin.
Aldekimdi wuryskan,
Kezekshinin dauysyn.
Ketem kazir zulaydy,
San okiga oyymda.
Keshki vokzal shulaydy,
Temir zholdyn boyynda.
Otto osylay omirim,
Tugan yeldin aspany.
Kwulazyp twur konilim,
Poyezd zhylzhi bastady.
Kezdesuge azirmem,
Suyldaydy zhuregim.
Tүsip kalyp kazir men,
Tynyshtykka sinemin.
* * *
Kobyz at heart sad not died down,
And the girl all the same in my dreams,
And fall exist, but spring–
As if the return of loved ones!!
O teachers see the face.
Don't forget me those who was great!
Senior brothers often I yearn,
In flight to find them situated accustomed..
For me their poems, their memory is important,
Their honor native steppes and meadows.
Always, always at meetings with youth
Encounter Каdеkе and Тumаgа.
They loved the mountains and horses…
Part of the secret doom covered haze days,
But that other poets have in dreams,
About the life of telling us itself!
* * *
Konilimde kunirengen kobyz bar,
Kiyalymda sol bayagy so kyz bar.
Konyr kuzder syzdatkanmen zhurekti,
Koktem sayin oralady abyzdar.
Ustazyndy izdegenge bar ma ayip,
Asyldardan tagy aiyrylyp kalmaiykˌ.
Kaytkan kazdyn kankylynan izdedim,
Yeki agamdy sagynganda sargaiyp.
Kos kokemnin zhyry magan ұnagan,
Yeli suygen, zheri suygen gulamam.
Kezdesude koiylady suraktar,
Kadeken men Tumagamdy suragan.
Man dalanyn suygen tauyn, kulynyn,
Shetin sezdik terendegi syrynyn.
Akyndarda arman bar ma, shirkin-ay,
Zhyrlarymen zhazyp ketken gumyryn.
* * *
Jidelibaysin – a tear rolled down on the sand.
My mystery centuries its bequeathed longing.
Yes, the sadness the age-old ancestors bequeathed to me.
Edge of mountain flowers and blue lakes will sing.
And the Sun melt in the chest of my sorrow ice.
Tell you the mystery of the elders who served from.
Here are some of their gravestones, frozen alone this.
And the tears flow, I steppe carpeted expanse.
Here's a wedge of cranes, flying away for it,
And if autumn my shared grief.
Lived in generations of mystery surrounding valleys,
Her father certainly was succeeded by son.
And all exited the mortal world in dreams
Once gathered, all together to go to Bаysin.
This despair I saw when I grew up.
I didn't dare to ask, I were too timid and small.
My loneliness left from these beginnings.
From the doom undividable then exhausted me, and suddenly
Again in my heart settled a familiar ailment.
There are no higher(greater) peoples, they and in their fate are equal,
But this disease is an everlasting grief of country.
Great steppe-like chapan that stripped sleeveless.
- Zhidelibajsyn, about you my dreams and dreams!
Zhidelibajsyn, this is painful from the tears of the eye.
So my heart, dying, quivers now,
Like, flaring up, and from the sky falling down,
My star split, and crashing the desert shook.
Iles there from my shirt off flap,
Where from Samarkand to the Bajsyn dunes flow!
- Oh, my friend, you are there many ways to victory,
Wind Bajsyn we heard a mournful chorus!
… Well, what is there to do about it! From the field of ancient legends
Went to the Hill, which turn white Tashkent.
- Baysyn, the path to you me today still on the shoulder!
I'll get away from this place, like a bird, I will fly to you.
Grandmother and great-grandfather are buried in one's own edge.
I am looking for I loss, I recognize its signs.
Perhaps one day I will find the loss of my
* * *
Zhidelíbaysyn – kozímnín zhasy yrshyġan,
Sanama zhettí-au ġasyrlar syry synsyġan.
Babamnan kalġan kayġyly muny olkenín,
Zhazira beldí, kogíldír koldí korkemím.
Keudemde katkan shemendí muzday yeríterím,
Ozín dep otken shaldardyn syryn shertemín.
Olardyn barí beyítte zhatyr tízílíp,
Kozímnín zhasy uzílíp.
Tyrnalar kettí kokzhiyek asyp tízílíp,
Zhan ukpas munly syrymdy, turġanday myna kuz uġyp.
Kanshama urpak auyskˌan syr ġoy bírtíndep,
Yertíp keterdey ġayyptan bíreu bír kun kep.
Olardyn barí zhalġannan ottí armanda,
Baysynġa bírge barar ma yekenbíz shírkín dep.
Solardy koríp ostím men,
Sabi bolġasyn suray almadym yeshkímnen,
Sodan da bolar zhalġyzdyk dertín keshtím men.
Kazhytty-au tunde kamalap oylar kanġyrġan,
Saġynysh dertí zhurekte kayta zhanġyrġan.
Ulttan ulttyn desek te kalkam kemí zhok,
San ġasyrlarġa sozylġan dert bul – yemí zhok...
Uly sakhara shapanday boldy-au zhení zhok,
Zhidelíbaysyn atamekením – tení zhok.
Zhidelíbaysyn –zhanardan zhas koy togílgen,
Zhuregím be yeken atkaktay soġyp yegílgen.
Kabyrġam ba yeken bírtíndep turyp sogílgen,
Kuyrykty zhuldyz aġyp bír tүsken kogímnen.
Zhulynġan zhaġam zhat zhannyn ketken kolynda,
A, ana Samarkannyn Baysynġa barar zholynda.
Syrlasym menín yekeumíz kansha mundastyk,
Baysynnan sokkan sherlí zhel unín tyndastyk.
...Amal zhok kerí Tashkenge barar kyrdy astyk.
Baysyn, men saġan tubínde balkím soġarmyn,
Ozíne kˌaray kustayin kanat kaġarmyn.
Kabírí kalġan azhem men onda babamnyn,
Zhok ízdep shykkan zholaushy yedím kím bílsín,
Zhoġymdy sodan tabarmyn.
* * *
Goes my child in the womb of the beauty,
From my father's eyes I left his golden day.
They leave my strength, less and less for their struggle.
They leave, and all the same cannot be said of time: "Stop!"
Gone wave after wave of Kazakhs -this next row.
Oh so offend them because they know what they are doing
Those in my steppes of paradise make hell.
When you die, the sand remains in the eyes.
Now the tradition is forgotten that anciently known Kazakh.
Patience takes mine, barely holding back,
Running out of power, and all the admonitions of my words,
Already running out admiration for the beauty of the earth,
Here it takes time to fun and bravado.
Must be all the universe goes into any old man,
And heavy stayed libel, and the best days away.
And so goes life, melting every day,
And one holy leaves, precious my Adam's apple.
Think about it: the day will come and go all of you,
Visions shall go forth in all its glory from you.
Who loves his native people, the sadness, and my understand.
Wounded soul disappear she grieved!
* * *
Ana arudyn boiynda balam ketíp barady,
Zhanarynda akemnín zaman ketíp barady.
Alysuġa dushpanmen kunnen kunge, bauyrym,
Shamam ketíp barady.
Tolkyn, tolkyn, tolkyn bop
kazak otíp barady,
Kazaġymdy korlaġan mazak otíp barady.
Zhumak yemes dalamdy tozak yetíp barady.
Olgeníңde kozíңe kumy turyp kalady.
Dasturím men salttarym umytylyp barady,
Kunnen kunge kayteyín,
tozím bítíp barady,
Zhetesízge aytuġa sozím bítíp barady.
Sululykka lap yeter sezím bítíp barady,
Oynap kuler bal dauren kezím bítíp barady.
Zhuregínde shaldardyn ġalam ketíp barady,
Moyinymda, yeskí dos, zhalan ketíp barady.
Osylay da osylay dauren otíp barady,
Kadekendey asylym, auliyem otíp barady.
Oylap tursan zhanynnan barí ketíp kalady.
Sondyktan da kөңílím karaly ġoy karaly.
Uġar meníң munymdy yeldí oylaġan sanaly,
Kayran meníң zhүregím zharaly ġoy, zharaly.
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