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    Чешский (Čeština)

U mne nemohou květiny žít...

У меня не живут цветы...

U mne nemohou květiny žít.
Chvilku mne oklamou krásou svou vábnou,

stojí tu den — a zítra už vadnou.
U mne nemohou květiny žít.

A ani ptáci tu nežijí.
Sedí jen smutně a peříčka ježí,

zítra tu chomáček pápeří leží.
Ani ti ptáci tu nežijí.

Jen moje knihy — osm řad.
Objemné svazky mlčí a stojí,

hlídají věčnou únavu moji,

zrovna jak zubů osm řad.

Antikvář, co mi je prodával,

hrbatý žebrák, ještě ho vidím,

sedal za hřbitovem prokletých lidí —

antikvář, co mi je prodával.

Другие переводы:


А вот еще:

Beatrice

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 ...

Autumn

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, / ...

The Worker

He’s standing there, beside the glowing furnace, / A small man, probably older than you’d think. / His gaze is peaceful, seems almost submissive / From the way his reddened eyelids blink. / / All his workmates have knocked off - they’re sleeping / But he’s still ...

The Lost Tram

I was walking an obscure route / And abruptly I heard caws of crows, / A distant thunder and a tinkling lute: / A rushing tram was really close. / / How I leapt to its step / Is still a mystery to me. / It left a fiery track beyond itself / Which even in the daylight I could see. ...