Подир ковчега

За гробом

Под земята пещера се шири.
Дух гробовен в мрака й витае.
Като Луциферови вампири
там прекрасни блудници блуждаят.

И дали ще си умреш безславно,
или славно — все едно — смъртта е
стар работник — костелив и бавен,
който те прибира най-накрая.

Ще те понесе по коридора
между тъмни и безбройни стаи.
Ще ти се изцъкли бавно взорът —
ще си спомниш този сън безкраен.

А когато слезеш в свойта яма,
и отправиш вопъл към съдбата,
няма да откриеш вече храма,
а ще срещнеш блудница зъбата.

Много сладко тя ще те целува,
ще те смуче със безкрайна злоба.
Нищо друго там не съществува.
Няма изход — никога — от гроба.

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. / ...


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...