• Язык:
    Немецкий (Deutsch)
  • Four Centuries. Russian Poetry in Translation, 13, 2016



Wie ein Hund an der schweren Kette
Kläfft am Wald das Maschinengewehr,
Uns wie Bienen summen Schrapnelle,
Von dem hellroten Honig schwer.

Ferne Hurrarufe wie Lieder
Von Schnittern -- sie kehren heim
Am Ende des Tags, die Siedlung
Im gütigen Abendschein.

Und in Wahrheit heilig, erhaben
Nimmt der hehre Krieg seinen Lauf.
Seraphime, mit Flügeln schlagend,
Leuchten hinter den Kriegern auf.

Die Arbeiter, langsam schreitend
Durch Felder, von Blut benetzt,
Um mit Heldenmut Ruhm zu ernten —
O Herrgott, segne sie jetzt.

Wie die Pflüger, gebeugt von Schmerzen,
Wie einer, der Trauer spürt,
So brennen vor Dir ihre Herzen
Als wächserne Kerzen erglüht.

Doch höre, o Herr, Du sollst geben
Die Stunde, die Sieger begrüßt,
Dem, der den bezwungenen Gegner
Als Bruder umarmt und küsst.

Другие переводы:

  • Английский
    Руперт Мортон
  • Болгарский
    Бойко Ламбовски
  • Венгерский
    Иштван Бака
  • Польский
    Тадеуш Рубникович
  • Словацкий
    Ян Квапил

А вот еще:

Remember the palace of giants…

Remember the palace of giants, / The pool, full of silvery fish, / Alleys of planes, the highest, / And keeps made of huge stone bricks; / / As my golden horse at the towers / Was prancing, so proud and strong, / And gems decorated his harness / In patterns of delicate work. / / ...

The ship

"What d' you see in my eyes, slightly sparkling, / In my look, hazed with opaque mist?" / "There I saw the sea's deepest darkness / With a big sunken beautiful ship. / / That fine ship... More glorious and braver / None had seen over deep of the sea. / Its high masts under windbreath ...

A fragment of «Tale of Kings»

Once a dark horseman oh a black horse came / He was clad in a black velvet cloak, full of pride. / And his look was so dreadful, as a town aflame, / And so glaring as a flash in the night. / / Curly hair upon shoulders like serpents did twist, / And his voice was a song of the earth and...


Today, I can see that your glance is especially sad, / And hands are especially thin and the hair if up fluff. / Hey, listen, as far as in Africa, down at lake Chad / Is walking a graceful Giraffe. / / He's owing that elegance, slender and languor he is, / Such beautiful patterns are sh...

The Gates of Paradise

There are no seven diamond seals to close / the eternal gates of God's great paradise / it has no tempting charms, no beckoning glow / and to the people remains unrecognized. / / a doorway in a wall long since forsaken / a mass of stones and moss and nothing more. / nearby, a beggar, ...

A portrait of a man

His eyes are lightless underground lakes, / Abandoned castles of the ancient kings. / Marked with the sign of the eternal shame / Of that, the Other One, he never speaks. / The deepest wound, his mouth, dark and purple, / Made with a blade borne of the deadly poison; / And it is sad and ...