Waiting by Yevgeny Yevtushenko
Waiting
Yevgeny YevtushenkoMy love will come
will fling open her arms and fold me in them,
will understand my fears, observe my changes.
In from the pouring dark, from the pitch night
without stopping to bang the taxi door
she’ll run upstairs through the decaying porch
burning with love and love’s happiness,
she’ll run dripping upstairs, she won’t knock,
will take my head in her hands,
and when she drops her overcoat on a chair,
it will slide to the floor in a blue heap.
MARGINALIA
Desire, desire, desire. Thinking of you and listening to Suzanne Vega’s Caramel. Reading this poem.
And, years later, I remember your name and think: old love, T. Old love.
“My love will come…”
Yevgeny Yevtushenko
Translated by Albert C. ToddTo B. Akhmadulina
My love will come,
will fold me in her arms,
will notice all the changes,
will understand my apprehensions.From the pouring dark, the infernal gloom,
forgetting to close the taxi door,
she’ll dash up the rickety steps
all flushed with joy and longing.Drenched, she’ll burst in, without a knock,
will take my head in her hands,
and from a chair her blue fur coat
will slip blissfully to the floor.
—
Updated on 1 May 2013. The first version was given to me A., who isn’t in my life now, but who mattered to me, once.
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SHARED WITH GRATITUDE
This poem appeared in The Collected Poems, 1952-1990 by Yevgeny Yevtushenko, published by Henry Holt & Co, 1991. (Available on: Amazon • Bookshop)
ABOUT YEVGENY YEVTUSHENKO
Yevgeny Yevtushenko was born on July 18, 1933, in the Irkutsk region of Siberia, and he grew up there and in Moscow. In 1956 Yevtushenko published a long poem, “Zima Junction,” about his hometown in Siberia; this poem was criticized by the press for its portrayal of the post-Stalin Soviet Union. In 1961 he published his best-known poem, “Babi Yar,” which famously denounced Russian anti-Semitism and inspired Dimitri Shostakovich’s Symphony No. 13. Yevtushenko published numerous… (more)
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K D
An alternate translation of this lovely piece. Translation by Albert C. Todd:
“My love will come
will fold me in her arms,
will notice all the changes,
will understand my apprehensions.
In from the pouring dark, the infernal gloom,
forgetting to close the taxi door,
she’ll dash up the rickety steps,
all flushed with joy and longing.
Drenched, she’ll burst in without a knock,
will take my head in her hands,
and from a chair her blue fur coat
will slip blissfully to the floor.”
Ella
It’s a comfort to know that you and these poems will be here after a day of uncertainty. The idea of being able to, have coffee (or perhaps you prefer tea) and just converse would seem as remarkable.
Thank you for feeding my soul.
mjlstories
I am going to a poetry workshop this week and we are going to look at poems in translation so I remembered this poem from about forty five years ago and simply typed ‘My love will come…’ into google. So fascinating! Strangely I remember the coat falling to the floor in a pool of blue. Misremembering or yet another translation? I have never translated anything in my life, but reading these (with the boldness of ignorance!) I would say first find the literal translation then let go and run with the poem. The first translation is so much more a poem, but then that blissful coat is also fascinating! So to have all of these is a treat! Thank you.