The Victory
1943-1945
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Over a pier, the first beacon flamed --
The vanguard of other sea-rangers;
The mariner cried and bared his head;
He sailed with death beside and ahead
In seas, packed with furious dangers.
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By our doors Great Victory stays ...
How shall we glory her advent?
Let women lift high all the children! They blessed
With life mid millions of deaths --
Thus shall we sweet victory answer.
Translated by Yevgeny Bonver
April, 1996
With help from Hecate, today
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The picture is of a Viking funeral, although it shows the ship already afllame, rather than the archers shooting flaming arrows into the oil-soaked craft after the tide had begun to carry it into the West. This wasn't at all the victory that Akhmatova had in mind, with her images of women holding up their children to celebrate. But it's what the poem made me feel. I've always loved the idea of Viking funerals.
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