• Язык:
    Английский (English)

The Worker


He’s standing there, beside the glowing furnace,
A small man, probably older than you’d think.
His gaze is peaceful, seems almost submissive
From the way his reddened eyelids blink.

All his workmates have knocked off — they’re sleeping
But he’s still working, showing what he’s worth,
Devoted to his task — casting the bullet
That soon will separate me from the earth.

He’s finished. Now his eyes get back their twinkle.
He’s going home. A bright moon shines ahead.
A house is waiting for him, warm and toasty
A sleepy wife, blankets and a big bed.

And the bullet he has cast now whistles
Over the Dvina’s gray rippling spray
Homeward toward the heart it has been seeking,
And the bullet he has cast has found its way.

And I am falling, dazed by my own dying,
Watching a lifetime of moments pass,
And my blood, as from a fountain, now starts spurting
On the dusty, dry, flat trodden grass.

And the good Lord will repay me in full measure
For a life too brief to toast, too bitter to drink.
And he was wearing a gray shirt when he made it —
That small man, probably older than you’d think.

Другие переводы:

  • Английский
    Дон Магер
    The Workman
  • Бартон Раффел, Алла Бураго
    A Workman
  • Болгарский
    Бойко Ламбовски
  • Испанский
    Ксения Дьяконова, Хосе Матео
    El obrero
  • Немецкий
    Адриан Ваннер
    Der Arbeiter
  • Ирмгард Вилле
    Der Arbeiter
  • Польский
    Збигнев Дмитроча
  • Сербский
    Томислав Шиовац
  • Французский
    Серж Фошеро
  • Чешский
    Мария Марчанова

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