I be faithless! love avowing,
To thee first I bent my knee,
Even with soul thy looks endowing,
First I knew it knowing thee.
Yes, my soul to thee returning,
Thine own gift do I restore,
Thou the offering proudly spurning,
I its charm can know no more.
Do not bid me, hope resigning,
My fond vows of love to cease,
How can I, in silence pining,
Cruel fair one, mar thy peace?
N O T E.
Of the following translation of Derjavin's Ode to God, universally esteemed as one of the sublimest effusions of the Russian Muse, I beg leave to say that my aim has been to render it into English as literally as the genius of our language would admit, without adding or suppressing a single thought, or amplifying a single expression, to accomplish which metrically would of course be impossible.
If I have succeeded, my readers will be better able to judge whether this Ode, after having been translated into the Japanese language, merited the great honour of being suspended, embroidered with gold, in the temple of Jeddo, than they can be by a perusal of the highly poetic effort of Dr. Bowring. For, whilst he has adhered to the structure of versification adopted in the original, and in some parts has given its sense with remarkable accuracy, in others he has been less fortunate; and in venturing to change the Trinitarian faith of Derjavin to suit his own notions of the unity of the Supreme Being, he has taken a liberty with his author which cannot but be deemed unwarrantable.
THE TRANSLATOR.
TO GOD.
BY DERJAVIN.
O! Thou, infinite in space,
Existing in the motion of matter,
Eternal amidst the mutations of time,
Without person, in three persons the Divinity!
The single and omnipresent spirit,
To whom there is neither place nor cause,
Whom none could ever comprehend,
Who fillest all things with thyself,
Embracest, animatest, and preservest them,
Thou whom we denominate God!
Although a sublime mind might be able
To measure the depths of ocean,
To count the sands, the rays of the planets,
To thee there is neither number nor measure!
Enlightened spirits, although
Proceeding from thy light,
Cannot penetrate thy judgments;
Thought scarce dare lift itself to thee;
It is lost in thy greatness,
Like the past moment in eternity.