• Язык:
    Английский (English)
Источник:

The Sick Man

Больной

In my delirium, only the endlessness
Of some sharp lines plagues me,
And the bell incessantly tolls
As a clock, striking eternity.

It seems to me, that after death it’s how,
With an agonising hope of resurrection,
The eyes get fixed on the surrounding murk,
Seeking the old familiar visions.

But in the ocean of primordial darkness
There are no voices, and no green grass,
But only cubes, and rhombuses and angles,
And ceaseless evil peals.

O, if only sleep drew near sooner!
To go away, as on a fete of atonement,
To the yellow sands of hoary seas,
To count the large and lurid rocks.

Другие переводы:

  • Английский
    Алла Бураго, Бартон Раффел
    The Sick Man
  • Венгерский
    Иштван Бака
    Betegen
  • Литовский
    Гинтарас Патацкас
    Ligonis
  • Немецкий
    Эрик Бёрнер
    Der kranke
  • Сербский
    Владимир Ягличич
    Болесник

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