• Язык:
    Английский (English)



As a child, I liked big,
Honey-scented meadows,
Groves, dry grass,
And in the grass, bovine horns.

Every wayside shrub shouted
To me: “I’m playing with you,
Pass me by carefully
And you shall know who I am!”

Only the savage autumn wind,
Howling, would stop playing —
The heart would beat even more blissfully,
And I, believe that I shall not die

Alone, but with my friends.
With the coltsfoot, with the burdock.
And once beyond the distant clouds,
Shall figure out everything.

And that is why I love
The monkeyshines of army larks,
For man’s blood isn’t more sacred
Than the emerald sap of the grass.

Другие переводы:

  • Английский
    Бартон Раффел, Алла Бураго
  • Польский
    Тадеуш Рубникович
  • Чешский
    Ярослав Кабичек
  • Мария Марчанова
  • Новонорвежский
    Ю Эгген

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