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    Английский (English)



"Helga, Helga!" shouted the fighters
In the battlefield and wrestle stage
With their brawny arms, with fierce bright eyes,
Crashing sacra in feral combat rage.

"Olga, Olga!" screamed the honey-haired
Drevlians inside the burning bath
Scratching walls with wounded fingers in despair
To escape the unforgiving widow's wrath.

Yet beyond the faraway seas of legend
Broke the same restless tones
Striking in the same sonorous name unaging
Varangian steel against Byzantine bronze.

All the Christian names I used to know
Sound Greek now to my mind.
But your name alone, Olga, still delights my throat
Sweeter than most precious aged wine.

Year by year with a louder pressure
Older ages brew in my blood.
Nordic backbone's returning passion
Captured me in a tidal flood.

Strayed from ancient raiding armies,
To the present days I promised to resist,
I am longing for Valhalla archways,
Rage, and glory, and Odin's feast.

I see fervid beer in a skull bowl,
Playing bulls' pink ridges on the ride
And my Walkyrie, no stumble,
Olga, Olga, patrolling beside.

А вот еще:

My Thoughts

Why did they come to me my thoughts together? / Like thieves at night in gloomy dusk of suburbs, / Like kites they grim and sinister, they whether / are here for the vengeance fierce and savage? / / The hope has left, the dreams have fleed forever, / My eyes have opened in a great excit...

In the skies

Days have flashed in the golden inflame, / And she-bear was fleeing at night, / Overtake her, prince, overtake, / Lasso her, to the saddle her try. / / Lasso her, to the saddle her try / To strap, in the blue tower at home / Point out at she-bear-night / To your giant Herculean dog....


Out at sea, at noon, / sparks dance and the sun glows, / and the bird that's flown too far / sobs with speechless eyes. / / The green sea lured her out, / covered her eyes with mist, / and now she must fly and fly / to the end, high over the silent sea. / / Whimsical whirlwinds...

The Rat

The icon candle flickers, small, / the half-dark nursery is horribly quiet. / The frightened child / hides in the pink lace bed. / / What's that? The house spirit coughing? / He lives there, he's little, he's bald... / Agh! A vicious rat creeps slowly / from behind the wardrobe. / ...

The Choice

He who builds the tower will fall. / He will fall straight down, terribly, / and at the deep bottom of the world's well / he will curse himself for his madness. / / He who pulls the tower down will be crushed, / flattened by stone shards; / and left to lie there, by All-Seeing God, / ...

Beyond the Grave

There's a secret cavern, deep in the earth, / filled with stately tombs, / Lucifer's fiery dreams. / Beautiful whores slink between them. / / Whether you die proud or ashamed / a gloomy old man, a bony old man, / a boring, sluggish workman - Death - / will come and stare at you impe...