• Язык:
    Чешский (Čeština)
Источник:

Dětství

Детство

 Jako dítě jsem rád měl svéhlavě
sladce voňavé louky a hlohy,
suché metlice v doubravě
a v hustých travách býčí rohy.

Od prašné cesty keře trnek
volaly na mě: Pojď si hrát;
když obejdeš nás opatrně,
nebudeš nikdy pravdu znát.

Jen tichý vítr něžnou silou
činíval přítrž dávným hrám,
při nichž mi srdce šťastně bilo
a věřil jsem, že umírám.

Nejen sám, se mnou moji známí –
divizna, lopuch, zlatobýl.
Teď pod jinými oblohami,
jsem dávnou vášeň pochopil.

To proto vábí mě a těší
nebezpečné hry, vojácký stav:
Lidská krev není posvátnější
než smaragdové šťávy trav.


Другие переводы:

  • Английский
    Бартон Раффел, Алла Бураго
    Сhildhood
  • Артур Лехман
    Childhood
  • Польский
    Тадеуш Рубникович
    Dzieciństwo
  • Чешский
    Мария Марчанова
    Dětství
  • Новонорвежский
    Ю Эгген
    Barndom

А вот еще:

The joyful brotherhood

In eastern Russia are nights when the full moon distils strange perfume from the rank grasses; when the - God knows what - toads and perhaps night birds cry in weird, wailing tones; when the shadows of the trees stir like dying giants. If at the same time a millstream rumbles noisily past and lovers...

Have thou mercy! Enough of this pain and frustration...

Have thou mercy! Enough of this pain and frustration, / Let it end, this dark torture of shame and despair! / I forsook my self-will and its deadly temptations / I am tamed, thine for good. For my fate I don’t care. / / We’ve been lost for too long in the depths of the ocean, ...

The Octave

No whisper of a midnight distance, / Nor when a mother sang a tune - / We've never understood an instance, / Which's worth being better understood. / The symbol of the Father's greatness - / A kind of gracious advice - / To you, the Poet, is presented: / Your tongue is tied, your speec...

War

To M. M. Chichagov / / Like a dog that strains on heavy halter / Rifle yaps across the forest now, / Bee-like, buzzing shrapnel doesn’t falter, / Gathering bright red honey from the bough. / / In the distance, though, "Hurrah" is sounding / Like the reapers’ singing wh...

The tip of willow tree was blackened...

The tip of willow tree was blackened, / For rooks protruded from its crown, / In azure sky-dale there they slackened - / The sheepish clouds grazed on its down. / And you, with gaze of resignation, / Announced: "I am in love with you." / Like sea was grass’s oscillation, / At one...

Evening

How thick, how wingless an evening! / A sunset like a cracked melon. / / You almost want to shove / those limp clouds along. / / Slow evenings like this, / coachmen whip their horses to a gallop, / / Fishermen tear at the waves with their oars, / woodsmen chop like mad / / ...