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Contributor

Nina Kossman

Contributor

Nina Kossman

Nina Kossman, born in Moscow, is the author of two collections of poetry in Russian and English. She has translated two volumes of Marina Tsvetaeva's poetry, In the Inmost Hour of the Soul and Poem of the End. Her translations of Russian poetry have been included in Norton's World Poetry and in anthologies from Doubleday, Harcourt Brace, and Oxford University Press. Behind the Border, a collection of short stories about her Moscow childhood, was published by William Morrow & Co. in 1994 and translated into Japanese (Tokyo, 1994). Her prose was broadcast on the BBC World Service Short Story Programme, and her poems and short stories have appeared in Russian, American, British, and Dutch periodicals. She has edited Gods and Mortals: Modern Poems on Classical Myths, an anthology published by Oxford Unversity Press in 2001. Two of her plays have been performed in New York, and her one-act Miracles is included in Women Playwrights: Best Plays of 2000.

Articles by Nina Kossman

[It is not fated that, in this world]
By Marina Tsvetaeva
It is not fated that, in this world,The strong join the strong.Thus, Siegfried parted from Brunhild,A sword stroke instead of a marriage.In the allied brotherly hatred–Like buffalos!–rock…
Translated from Russian by Nina Kossman
Trees VI
By Marina Tsvetaeva
Neither with paint, nor with a brush.Light is his kingdom: his hair is gray.The red leaves tell lies.Here light tramples color.Color is trampled by light.The heel of light crushes the chest of color.Isn’t…
Translated from Russian by Nina Kossman
Trees IX
By Marina Tsvetaeva
What revelations,What truthsWhat do you rustle of,The floods of green?With sacramentsOf what raving sibyl,What do you rustle of,What do you rave about?What’s in your fluttering?But I know–you…
Translated from Russian by Nina Kossman
[Bring to me all that’s of no use to others]
By Marina Tsvetaeva
Bring to me all that’s of no use to others:My fire must burn it all!I lure life, and I lure deathAs weightless gifts to my fire.Fire loves light-weighted things:Last year’s brushwood, wreathes,…
Translated from Russian by Nina Kossman
Trees VIII
By Marina Tsvetaeva
Someone’s heading for a fatal victory.Trees gesture like tragedies.Sacrificial dance of Judea!Trees flutter like sacramentals.This–a conspiracy against the era:Against weight, number, fraction,…
Translated from Russian by Nina Kossman