• Язык:
    Словацкий (Slovak)


Nečakane a tak smelo
ženský hlas znel zo slúchadla.
Aká harmónia vládla
v hlase, ktorý nemal telo!

Kroky šťastia blahosklonné
nejdú vždy len mimo cieľa —
viac než lutna archanjela
zvučí tvoj hlas v telefóne.

Перевод стихотворения Николая Гумилёва «Телефон» на словацкий язык.


Неожиданный и смелый
Женский голос в телефоне, —
Сколько сладостных гармоний
В этом голосе без тела!

Счастье, шаг твой благосклонный
Не всегда проходит мимо:
Звонче лютни серафима
Ты и в трубке телефонной!

Другие переводы:

  • Венгерский
    Иштван Бака
  • Испанский
    Хорхе Бустаманте Гарсия
    El teléfono
  • Украинский
    Максим Стриха

А вот еще:

The Drunk Dervish

Nightingales in the cypresses, a moon on the lake, / Black stone, white stone, much wine I have drunk. / The bottle singing loud in my heart says now: / The world’s the light in a friend’s face, all else shadow! / / I am smitten by the wine server, not today, not yesterday. / ...


If you do not immediately singe / the whiskers of a slain leopard, / its spirit will pursue the hunter. / A popular Abyssinian belief / The leopard I slew is doing / Sorcery and telling fortunes / In the lonely silent night / Of my rented room. / / People come in and go out, / ...

Star Terror

It was a night of gold, / A night of gold, but moonless, / He ran across the plain, / Fell to his knees, reared up, / Rushed about like a gunshot hare, / And hot tears streamed down / His pitted furrowed cheeks / Into his old man’s billy-goat beard. / Behind him ran his childre...

Anna Comnena

Nervousness lurks in the strange dark, / The emperor’s daughter neglects the court, / She gazes out on the Bosporus fleet / Where it dimly rides the turbulent tide. / / Into the safe and sheltering bay, / The graceful pride of ship prows glide. / But she lowers her gaze, like a ...

Two Roses

In front of golden gates of Eden / Two roses blossomed with much pomp, / But rose is known as passion symbol, / And passion is an earthly romp. / / One rose so gently shows her pink side, / Confused, as maiden by her mate, / The other, purple one, turns crimson, / By passion's flame...

My Weary Soul Has Been Besieged...

My weary soul has been besieged / By the insanely strange sins lately. / She's like a hoary wife, it seemed, / Before her grooms, serene and stately. / / In chambers she's to spin her yarn / And vail her eyes with stern abandon, / Just to control her passion blind, / To tame revolt ...