• Язык:
    Польский (Polska)

Afrykańska noc

Африканская ночь

Północ wybiła, ciemności bez granic,
Rzeka się toczy, w księżycu lśniąc,
A dalej, za rzeką, ogniska paląc,
Nieznane plemię, trwoży noc.

Jutro spotkamy i wyjaśnimy,
Do kogo należeć ma ziemia ta;
Im czarny kamień daje siły,
Nam – krzyżyk chroniący od zła.

Znowu obchodzę wzgórki i jamy,
Tu będą rzeczy, muły - tam.
W tym nieprzyjaznym kraju Sidamo
Drzewa nie rosną - piasek sam.

Miło jest myśleć: nie kajamy przed nikim,
Z dumą czynimy kolejny krok -
I znowu droga żółtym wężykiem
Będzie wiodła ze stoku na stok.

A jeśli jutro fale Uebi
Mój dech przedśmiertny wplączą w swój huk,
Martwy, zobaczę, jak w bladym niebie
Z ognistym czarny zmaga się bóg.

Другие переводы:


А вот еще:

Giraffe

Today I can see that your gaze is especially sad; / Your hands are especially slender, encircling your knees. / But listen to this: far away, far away, near Lake Chad / A giraffe paces elegantly. / / A figure of grace and a lifetime of bliss are his boon, / And a magical pattern adorns...

Giraffe

This evening the look in your eyes is especially sad, / And your arms are especially vine-like entwining your calf. / So listen to me: far away, on the shores of Lake Chad / There roams an exquisite giraffe. / / He is gracefully slender and gifted with bliss from within, / And none on ...

Elephant Calf

My love to you is now a little calfy, / An elephant born in Berlin or Paris / Who tramples with his feet that are all water / About the rooms of a managerie owner. / / Don't try to offer him French buns or bagels, / Don't try to offer him large heads of cabbage / For he can only eat a...

The Sixth Sense

It's priceless - wine, that falls in love with us, / And bread, that sits for us in oven, - priceless treasure, / And priceless is a woman that, at last, / After all torments, we possess for pleasure. / / But what to do with clear light of dawn, / When sky's, like heaven, peaceful, deep...

Manlius

Manlius was thrown down, / The ruling few preserved their wealth, / Their power remains as dour, / As the Tarpeian Rock itself. / / Like the waves Rome was roughing, / Cries were cutting through the gloom, / But the man was gently laughing, / Falling down to meet his doom. / / ...

She

I know a woman, full of silence, / Her bitter weariness from words, / Dwells in mysterious, blinking eyelids / Their widened pupils, secret worlds. / Her soul is greedily wide open / To copper music of sweet verse. / To life, that’s worldly, pleasant often, / She’s deaf and...