(1896-1979)
Праздничный,
веселый, бесноватый,
С
марсианской жаждою творить,
Вижу я,
что небо небогато,
Но про
землю стоит говорить.
Даже
породниться с нею стоит,
Снова
глину замешать огнем,
Каждое
желание простое
Освятить
неповторимым днем.
Так
живу, а если жить устану,
И
запросится душа в траву,
И глаза,
не видя, в небо взглянут,-
Адвокатов
рыжих позову.
Пусть
найдут в законах трибуналов
Те
параграфы и те года,
Что в
земной дороге растоптала
Дней
моих разгульная орда.
1920
d
Literal
Translation
Festive, joyous, frenetic,
With the thirst of a Martian
to create,
I see that heaven is none too
rich,
But the earth bears speaking
about.
Even becoming kinfolks with
her is worth it,
Once more to knead together
clay with fire,
Each simple wish
To illumine with an
unrepeatable day.
That’s how I live, and if I
tire of living,
If my soul gets a hankering
for grass,
And my eyes, unseeing, gaze
up to heaven,
That’s when I’ll call for the
red-haired lawyers.
Let them seek out in the laws
of tribunals
Those clauses and those years
That the dissolute horde of
all my days
Has trampled down on the
earthly road.
d
Literary
Translation/Adaptation by U.R. Bowie
Festive feeling, joyous and
frenetic,
Thirsting like a Martian to
conceive;
Heaven lacks in themes for my
aesthetic,
But the earth is ripe for
make-believe.
Could just make moist earth
my bosom kin,
Once more stoke the fire,
knead the clay;
Let each simple wish blaze
from within,
Illumined by the wonder of new
day.
So I’ll live, and if I tire
of life,
If my soul hankers for
Elysian parks,
And Heaven sends
relinquishment of strife,
I’ll summon then the lawyers,
red-haired sharks.
Those shysters will seek out
the clauses, laws,
Then conjure with my Book of
Earthly Deeds,
All trampled down along with sins,
faux pas,
By that fierce horde that led
me through the weeds.
No comments:
Post a Comment