• Язык:
    Польский (Polska)

Stary konkwistador

Старый конквистадор

Zapuszczając się w obcych gór twory,
Konkwistador zagubił się stary,
W dymnym niebie pławiły kondory,
Śnieżne czapy nad głową wisiały.

Osiem dni przyszło wieść głodne życie,
Konik zdechł, lecz pod wielkim wykuszem
Odkrył w miarę przytulne ukrycie,
By przy sobie wciąż mieć drogą tuszę.

Spędzał dnie przy uschniętym figowcu,
W pieśniach sławił słoneczną Kastylię,
We wspomnieniach znów był na żaglowcu,
Widział muszkiet, a czasem mantylę.

Arogancki był wciąż i spokojny,
Nie znał strachu, nie żywił też złości,
Przyszła śmierć i wojownik dostojny
Pozwał ją, by zgrała z nim w kości.

Другие переводы:


А вот еще:

The Giraffe

Today, I can see that your glance is especially sad, / And your hands are especially frail and your hair especially a mess. / There, there now... Just listen... far, far away, on Lake Chad / Roams a proud and graceful giraffe... / / An exquisite figure and a leisurely life are his boon / ...

The Giraffe

Today I can see that your features are strikingly sad, / Your arms on your knees are as thin as dandelion stalks. / But listen, in far-away lands that surround lake Chad / A graceful giraffe softly walks. / / A slender and delicate beauty he rightfully owns, / And magical ornaments run ...

Me and You

Yes I know, me and you - we aren't alike, / I have come from far away soils, / And it's not the guitar I like, / It's the sound of violent tonsils. / / Its not for the buildings or roads / Not for the dresses or fashion - / I spell out my poems for dragons, / For the clouds, ...

Giraffe

Today I can see that your look is especially sad / And your arms are especially fragile, as if made of chaff. / Listen, my dear: far away, by the shores of Lake Chad, / Roams the exquisite giraffe. / / It was granted the gift of proportion, voluptuous grace, / And its skin is adorned wi...

Sixth Sense

Fine the wine that loves us, / Good bread baked for our sakes / And the women who torment and tease / Yet please us and in the end let us take them. / / But what do we do with the red / Hue of sunset that lets the sky grow cold / With blue in a still, strange serenity? / What to do ...

The Streetcar That Lost Its Way

While walking down a strange street / I suddenly heard the cawing of crows, / Distant thunder, and the tones of a lute - / Here came a streetcar flying past. / / How I managed to leap to its step / Is beyond me - even in the bright / Daylight it spewed behind itself / In the atmosph...