Below is a brief addendum to my recent post "Lolita's traffic light." In VN's Russian translation (1967) of Lolita a line in Humbert's poem "Wanted," 'In the rain, where that lighted store is,' becomes Gde struitya noch', svetoforyas' (Where the night ripples, trafficlighting):
Патрульщик, патрульщик, вон там, под дождем,
Где струится ночь, светофорясь...
Она в белых носках, она - сказка моя,
И зовут ее: Гейз, Долорес.
Патрульщик, патрульщик, вон едут они,
Долорес Гейз и мужчина.
Дай газу, вынь кольт, догоняй, догони,
Вылезай, заходи за машину!
Officer, officer, there they go
In the rain, where that lighted store is!
And her socks are white, and I love her so,
And her name is Haze, Dolores.
Officer, officer, there they are
Dolores Haze and her lover!
Whip out your gun and follow that car.
Now tumble out, and take cover. (2.25)
VN's neologism, svetoforyas' is a participle that comes from the (non-existent) verb svetoforit'sya ("to trafficlight"). Both the verb and the participle derive from svetofor, the Russian word for "traffic light." Humbert's poem ends as follows:
My car is limping, Dolores Haze,
And the last long lap is the hardest,
And I shall be dumped where the weed decays,
And the rest is rust and stardust. (2.25)
After murdering Quilty, Humbert decides to disregard the rules of traffic and passes through a red light:
The road now stretched across open country, and it occurred to menot by way of protest, not as a symbol, or anything like that, but merely as a novel experiencethat since I had disregarded all laws of humanity, I might as well disregard the rules of traffic. So I crossed to the left side of the highway and checked the feeling, and the feeling was good. It was a pleasant diaphragmal melting, with elements of diffused tactility, all this enhanced by the thought that nothing could be nearer to the elimination of basic physical laws than deliberately driving on the wrong side of the road. In a way, it was a very spiritual itch. Gently, dreamily, not exceeding twenty miles an hour, I drove on that queer mirror side. Traffic was light. Cars that now and then passed me on the side I had abandoned to them, honked at me brutally. Cars coming towards me wobbled, swerved, and cried out in fear. Presently I found myself approaching populated places. Passing through a red light was like a sip of forbidden Burgundy when I was a child. Meanwhile complications were arising. I was being followed and escorted. Then in front of me I saw two cars placing themselves in such a manner as to completely block my way. With a graceful movement I turned off the road, and after two or three big bounces, rode up a grassy slope, among surprised cows, and there I came to a gentle rocking stop. A kind of thoughtful Hegelian synthesis linking up two dead women. (2.36)