• Язык:
    Английский (English)

The Lost Tram

I was walking an obscure route
And abruptly I heard caws of crows,
A distant thunder and a tinkling lute:
A rushing tram was really close.

How I leapt to its step
Is still a mystery to me.
It left a fiery track beyond itself
Which even in the daylight I could see.

Dashing like a dark-winged storm,
It strayed in the time abyss.
I shouted: "Driver, stop,
Stop this machine, please!".

Too late. A wall couldn't be seen.
We glided through a palm grove.
The Neva, the Seine, the Neil —
There were three bridges we rumbled over.

And, flashing behind a window frame,
An old beggar threw us an inquiring stare.
Of course, I know him - the same
Who died in Beirut last year.

Where am I? My heart beats
Anxiously and languidly in reply:
"Do you see a station where tickets
To India of the Spirit can be acquired?"

A sign... Letters, bloody and reddish,
say "Vegetables". I know here instead
Of rutabagas and cabbages
You may buy a dead head.

In a red shirt, with a face like an udder
The executioner severed my head.
It lay in a wet box, at the bottom,
Alongside others, they all were dead.

On a side street a fence of boards,
A house with three windows, trees.
I shouted: "Driver, stop,
Stop this machine, please!".

Mashenka, here you sang and dwelled,
For me, your love, you wove a carpet.
Where are your voice and body, who can tell?
Is it possible that you are dead?

When you moaned in your parlour,
I went to the Empress to submit
With my hair in powder.
And it was our last meet.

Now I've grasped it: our freedom
Is light striking only from there.
At the gate shades and people
Stand to zoological garden of planets.

And suddenly sweet familiar breeze,
The Horseman hand in an iron mitten
And two hooves of his great steed
Were flying towards me.

By orthodoxy truthful stronghold
St. Isaac is incised above my head.
There I'll have a memorial song for me
And there I'll pray for Mashenka's health.

Anyway, my heart is forever gloomy,
It's hard to breathe, it hurts to live.
Mashenka, I never thought one could
Have such love and such grief.

Перевод стихотворения Николая Гумилёва «Заблудившийся трамвай» на английский язык.

Заблудившийся трамвай

Шел я по улице незнакомой
И вдруг услышал вороний грай,
И звоны лютни, и дальние громы,
Передо мною летел трамвай.

Как я вскочил на его подножку,
Было загадкою для меня,
В воздухе огненную дорожку
Он оставлял и при свете дня.

Мчался он бурей темной, крылатой,
Он заблудился в бездне времен…
Остановите, вагоновожатый,
Остановите сейчас вагон.

Поздно. Уж мы обогнули стену,
Мы проскочили сквозь рощу пальм,
Через Неву, через Нил и Сену
Мы прогремели по трем мостам.

И, промелькнув у оконной рамы,
Бросил нам вслед пытливый взгляд
Нищий старик, — конечно тот самый,
Что умер в Бейруте год назад.

Где я? Так томно и так тревожно
Сердце мое стучит в ответ:
Видишь вокзал, на котором можно
В Индию Духа купить билет?

Вывеска… кровью налитые буквы
Гласят — зеленная, — знаю, тут
Вместо капусты и вместо брюквы
Мертвые головы продают.

В красной рубашке, с лицом, как вымя,
Голову срезал палач и мне,
Она лежала вместе с другими
Здесь, в ящике скользком, на самом дне.

А в переулке забор дощатый,
Дом в три окна и серый газон…
Остановите, вагоновожатый,
Остановите сейчас вагон!

Машенька, ты здесь жила и пела,
Мне, жениху, ковер ткала,
Где же теперь твой голос и тело,
Может ли быть, что ты умерла!

Как ты стонала в своей светлице,
Я же с напудренною косой
Шел представляться Императрице
И не увиделся вновь с тобой.

Понял теперь я: наша свобода
Только оттуда бьющий свет,
Люди и тени стоят у входа
В зоологический сад планет.

И сразу ветер знакомый и сладкий,
И за мостом летит на меня
Всадника длань в железной перчатке
И два копыта его коня.

Верной твердынею православья
Врезан Исакий в вышине,
Там отслужу молебен о здравьи
Машеньки и панихиду по мне.

И всё ж навеки сердце угрюмо,
И трудно дышать, и больно жить…
Машенька, я никогда не думал,
Что можно так любить и грустить.


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