--- On Fri, 7/11/08, Michael Pollak <mpollak at panix.com> wrote:
> >
> I'd say post a paragraph of it translated into standard
> English and let
> people on the list try their hand at altering it.
> That's probably the
> quickest way to get across practical suggestions that will
> allow you to
> evolve a style.
>
Well, here's a passage. This is a first sight translation, and all misspellings are mine and accidental. :) Mama is the Tsaritsa. I assume by "us" she means herself and Nicolas. This is a really cool passage actually.
Rasputin/the chekist forger writes:
Mama said to me, "the more I curse you, the dearer you are to me." "Why?" I ask Her. She says "because I understand that you stay so thin so that you can come to me pure. And I'm sad for the suffering that people put you through, because I know that you're doing it for me. And you're even dearer to me because of that!"
Then Mama asked me, "is it true what they say? That you (that's me)... with women?"
Then I told Mama something I maybe didn't understand myself, for it wasn't from the mind, but from the soul.
So. I said "my soul tortures me. People tempt me. When I'm drunk, I'm a drunken animal! But when I'm sober I see inside people, and it hurts. It hurts so much that I can only forget about it in drunken fire."
Mama asked, "but why don't you take your suffering upon yourself, instead of drowning it in wine?" "Because I feel shame only when I am sobering up. Because people do not let themselves feel shame."
Quietly Mama asked, "do you see us? Do you see... inside?"
I saw something so awful that I said to Her, "remember when I am not with you that I will drink your great suffering and I will pour great joy into you, for Earthly suffering is the path to the Kingdom. Where I will wash your feet with tears of joy. Don't ask anymore!"
She already wasn't asking. Quiet tears fell on my hands and she whispered, kissing my fingers, "oh, my Savior, my God, my Christ!"
I could hear her whisper while I was lying her on the sofa, like through a dream: "I pray to you not to tell Annushka anything about this! You can't!"
I won't tell.
But I think this is all things for women, not royalty. She prays and asks like a beggar. She should command, like a Tsaritsa.
What's that?