• Язык:
    Каталанский (Català)
Источник:

La Girafa

Жираф

Avui que veig tan trista la teva mirada,
i els teus braços tan prims, abraçant-te els genolls,
Escolta: lluny, ben lluny, a les ribes del Txad
vaga la insigne girafa.

Té un aire graciós, té el do de la tendresa
i li adorna la pell un màgic arabesc.
Amb ell només la lluna gosa comparar-se,
quan es desfà i es gronxa a l’aigua del gran llac.

De lluny, sembla un vaixell de velam virolat,
amb la cursa que traça, vol joiós d’ocell.
Jo sé que la terra veu moltes coses belles
quan a la posta es colga a la gruta de marbre.

Sé contes alegres sobre llocs de misteri,
noies negres, passions de joves cabdills,
però tu has aspirat tant temps boires feixugues,
que no vols creure en res més que no sigui la pluja.

I com et parlaré del jardí tropical,
d’esveltes palmeres, d’ignotes sentors d’herba...
Que plores? Doncs escolta... lluny, en el llac Txad
vaga la insigne girafa.

Другие переводы:


А вот еще:

The Sick Man

Only one thing torments my delirium: / how certain sharp lines go on for ever, / and a bell rings and rings and rings / like a clock marking off eternity. / / Just so, after death, / eyes stare into darkness / (the agonized hope of resurrection) / trying to see familiar visions. / ...

Offensive

This country could have been paradise: / it’s a den of fire. / We've been advancing for four days, / we’ve not eaten for four days. / / In this strange, bright hour / we don’t need earth’s bread: / the Lord’s Word / is better nourishment. / / The b...

The Cathedral at Padua

Marvellous, and sad - yes, that’s what this temple / is - a joy, a temptation, a threat. / Eyes exhausted with desire / bum in the slits of confessional windows. / / The organ melody rises, falls, / then swells fuller and more terrible, / like blood in dark church-granite veins ...

The Sun of the Spirit

How could we walk in peace, before, / expecting no joy, no disaster, / not dreaming of battles, of flaming retreats, / or the roaring trumpet of victory ? / / How could we - but it’s not too late, / the sun of the spirit bends down to us - / soothing, threatening, it pours / a...

The Lost Tram

I was walking down an unfamiliar street, / and suddenly I heard the caws of crows, / and distant thunder, and a ringing lute: / a tram flew by, before my eyes. / / Just how I ran onto its running board / remains a mystery. / The tail it trailed, even in daylight, / was firebird-fier...

Polite With Life of Hard Modernity

Polite with life of hard modernity: / Between us two, there is a border, / As all, that makes life's proud grins guaranteed / Is my sole bliss, a cure from boredom. / / My triumph, glory, deeds, so wonderful - / Lost talk, today by fate embezzled, / Ring through my soul, like copper t...


Рейтинг@Mail.ru