• Язык:
    Английский (English)



How strange. Ten years have passed, exactly ten
Since first I saw the magic Esbekie,
Great garden of Cairo
Lit solemnly by the full Moon that night.

Back then I was exhausted by a woman.
And neither the fresh winds of oceans,
Nor row-de-dow of the exotic bazaars -
Nothing at all could comfort or sonsole me.
And I was praying to the Lord for death
And ready was myself to draw it nearer.

Oh, but that garden!
It was all alike
The sacred grooves of our young world, new-born,
The slender palm trees raising their branches
Like girls
When they see God descending.

And on the hills like the prophetic druids
The lofty sycamores were thronging
And waterfalls were whitinening in the dark
Like unicorns that kick over the traces.

Night butterflies were flying
'mong the flowers
That rose so high or 'mong the stars -
So low they were and looked like mellow barberry.

And, I remember, I exclaimed: "Life is above all grief,
Deeper than death!
Oh, Lord, take my free vow:
Whatever sorrows, humiliation
Fall to my lot, I will not think
About an easy death
Before I step again on the full moon-lit night
Under the palms and sycamors of Esbekie."

How strange - ten years have passed, exactly ten,
But I can't help, but think about the palm-trees,
And sycamores, and waterfalls
That whitened in the gloom like unicorns.
All of a sudden I look around and hear:
The wind is booming, distant speech is buzzing
And in the horried silence of the night
I hear the mysrerious word - Esbekie.

Yes, just ten years, but a sullen wanderer,
Again I have to go, I have to see
The seas, the thunder-clouds and the strangers -
All that can not entice me anymore.
I have to step again into that garden and to repeat my vow
Or say that I have solved it
And now am free...

Другие переводы:

  • Английский
    Дон Магер
  • Грэхем Харрисон
  • Немецкий
    Ирмгард Вилле

А вот еще:


Muses, enough, cease your sobbing, / Pour out your grief into singing, / Sing about Dante soul-stirring, / Or play the flute, play with feeling. / / Move on, annoying faun deities, / Music is dead in your screaming! / Haven’t you learned only lately / Beatrice exited Eden....

Yet All But Once

Yet all but once you’ll reminisce of me / And of my world mysterious and thrilling, / The quirky world of songs and fervency, / But among all, unique and undeceiving. / / It could have been yours also, but alas, / It was too much for you, or was too scanty, / I must have ...


An orange-red sky... / A gusty wind shakes / The bloody cluster of rowan berries. / I chase the fleeing horse / Past the glass hothouse, / Past the trellises of the old park, / And past the swan pond. / Alongside me runs / My shaggy, red-haired dog, / Who is dearer to me / Than e...

Cain’s Descendants

He didn’t deceive us, that sad, somber spirit / Who wears the morning star as pseudonym / And said: "Shun not the highest gain, nor fear it: / Taste of the fruit and you will equal Him." / / Instantly, for the youth, all roads lay open, / And for old men, all mysteries to know, / ...