Anna Akhmatova
(1889-1966)
(1889-1966)
Приходи на меня
посмотреть.
Приходи. Я живая. Мне больно.
Этих рук никому не согреть,
Эти губы сказали: «Довольно!»
Каждый вечер
подносят к окну
Мое кресло. Я вижу дороги.
О, тебя ли, тебя ль упрекну
За последнюю горечь тревоги!
Не боюсь на земле
ничего,
В задыханьях тяжелых бледнея.
Только ночи страшны оттого,
Что глаза твои вижу во сне я.
1912 г. (November?)
d
Literary
Translation/Adaptation by U.R. Bowie
Come around; have a look at me:
mayhem.
Look. I’m alive. I hurt. Life’s tough.
See these hands, I have no one to warm them,
See these lips that have spoken: “Enough!”
They carry me on my recliner at
gloaming
To the window; I look out at the roads.
Is it you who’s to blame for my anguish and groaning,
For the rancorous grief that my being corrodes!
On this earth there is nothing
that scares me,
I gasp out deep breaths, I grow pale,
But I writhe in night sleep fitfully,
For in dreams your dread eyes mine assail.
Look. I’m alive. I hurt. Life’s tough.
See these hands, I have no one to warm them,
See these lips that have spoken: “Enough!”
To the window; I look out at the roads.
Is it you who’s to blame for my anguish and groaning,
For the rancorous grief that my being corrodes!
I gasp out deep breaths, I grow pale,
But I writhe in night sleep fitfully,
For in dreams your dread eyes mine assail.
c
Max Ernst, 1940
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