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Sie werden sich erinnnern noch an mich…

Еще не раз вы вспомните меня…

Sie werden sich erinnern noch an mich.
an meine Welt, an seltsame, bizarre
Naive Welt aus Feuer und Musik,
Doch unter anderen- die einzig wahre

Gehören konnte Ihnen diese Welt
doch war's zu viel- oder vielleicht zu wenig?
es kann auch sein- ich dichtete zu schlecht
Und bat den Gott um Sie- und das vergebens?

Sie beugen sich verlegen jedes Mal:
«An Ihre Welt darf ich mich nicht erinnern-
Ich bin bezaubert von der andren Welt,
Von ihren einfachen und groben Sinnen»

Другие переводы:

А вот еще:


From the grave / you hear wonderful bells, / you smell / the whitest lilies. / / From the grave / you sec God’s light / and the glowing flight / of seraphim’s wings. / / You’re dying, yes, / your lovely hands are cold, / you don’t believe, you don&rs...

The Lost Tram

A strange street, then crows / croaking, then the sound of a lute / and thunder crawling slow / from a distance - then a tram at my feet / / And I leaped, somehow, and the railing / held, and I stood, dazed, / stupidly watching a trail / of fire streaking like sunrays. / / Rush...

The Word

Then, when God bent His face / over the shining new world, then / they stopped the sun with a word, / a word burned cities to the ground. / / When a word floated across the sky / like a rose-colored flame / eagles closed their wings, frightened / stars shrank against the moon. / ...

The Master Artists’ Prayer

I remember an ancient artists’ prayer: / Keep us, Lord, from students / / Who push our wretched genius / toward the blasphemy of new revelations. / / Honest and open enemies we can deal with, / but this kind hangs in our footsteps / / And smiles, and laughs, as we fight - ...


Snakes shed their skins / and their souls grow mellow. / We do it differently, we change / souls, not bodies. / / Like an Amazon, Memory leads life / like a horse on a rope: / Tell me, Memory, who lived / in this body before I came. / / The first one: homely, thin, / loving o...

The Forest

White trunks / were stark, suddenly, against the haze, / / Roots wound up out of the ground / like corpses’ arms. / / The leaves’ bright fire / hid giants, dwarves, lions; / / Fishermen saw in the sand / the print of a six-fingered hand. / / No French noble, n...