Let's exclaim, admire each other. We don't have to fear high-flown words.
Let's compliment each other- surely these are the happy moments of love.
Let's grieve and cry openly now together, now separately, now in turn.
We don't have to pay attention to gossip- since sadness always goes along with love.
Lets' catch each others's meaning at once, so that having made one mistake, we won't make any more.
Let's live, indulging each other in everything- especially since life is so short.
* * *
Опустите, пожалуйста, синие шторы.
Медсестра, всяких снадобий мне не готовь.
Вот стоят у постели моей кредиторы
молчаливые: Вера, Надежда, Любовь.
Раскошелиться б сыну недолгого века,
да пусты кошельки упадают с руки...
Не грусти, не печалуйся, о моя Вера, -
остаются еще у тебя должники!
И еще я скажу и бессильно и нежно,
две руки виновато губами ловя:
- Не грусти, не печалуйся, матерь Надежда, -
есть еще на земле у тебя сыновья!
Протяну я Любови ладони пустые,
покаянный услышу я голос ее:
- Не грусти, не печалуйся, память не стынет,
я себя раздарила во имя твое.
Но какие бы руки тебя ни ласкали,
как бы пламень тебя ни сжигал неземной,
в троекратном размере болтливость людская
за тебя расплатилась... Ты чист предо мной!
Чистый-чистый лежу я в наплывах рассветных,
перед самым рождением нового дня...
Три сестры, три жены, три судьи милосердных
открывают последний кредит для меня.
1959
THREE SISTERS
(translated by Murzin)
Please lower the blue blinds, and, nurse, don't prepare drugs for me. My creditors stand by my bed, silent Faith, Hope, and Love.
It's time for the son of a short century to pay off his debts, but my empty purse falls from my hand. "Don't be sad, don't be sorry, dear Faith, there are still many debtors on earth."
Then I'll say, powerlessly and tenderly, guiltily seeking two hands with my lips, "Don't be sad, don't be sorry, Mother Hope, you still have sons on earth."
I'll offer my empty hands to Love, I will hear her penitent voice: "Don't be sad, don't be sorry, I haven't forgotten you, I gave you all freely for you own sake.
Whatever hands have caressed you, however love's heavenly flame burned in you, because people's gossip payed your debts threefold, your are clear in my sight."
Sinless and clear I am laying in down's floods of light, like a white flag the sheet streams on to the floor. Three judges, three wives, three sisters of charity, open limitless credit for me...
***
Тьмою здесь все занавешено
и тишина, как на дне...
Ваше величество женщина,
да неужели -- ко мне?
Тусклое здесь электричество,
с крыши сочится вода.
Женщина, ваше величество,
как вы решились сюда?
О, ваш приход -- как пожарище.
Дымно, и трудно дышать...
Ну, заходите, пожалуйста.
Что ж на пороге стоять?
Кто вы такая? Откуда вы?!
Ах, я смешной человек...
Просто вы дверь перепутали,
улицу, город и век.
1960
YOUR MAJESTY, WOMAN
(translated by Murzin)
Here all has been curtained in darkness and it's as silent as the bottom of the sea... Your majesty, woman, are you really coming to me?
Here the light is feeble, and water drips from the roof. Woman, your majesty, how can you bear to come here?
Oh, your coming is a fire in my heart; It's smoky and hard to breathe... Well, come in, please, come in-- why stand in the doorway?
Who are you? Where did you come from? Of course, how silly I am... You've simply mistaken the door, the street, the city, the age.
***
О. Б.
Мне нужно на кого-нибудь молиться.
Подумайте, простому муравью
вдруг захотелось в ноженьки валиться,
поверить в очарованность свою!
И муравья тогда покой покинул,
все показалось будничным ему,
и муравей создал себе богиню
по образу и духу своему.
И в день седьмой, в какое-то мгновенье,
она возникла из ночных огней
без всякого небесного знаменья...
Пальтишко было легкое на ней.
Все позабыв -- и радости и муки,
он двери распахнул в свое жилье
и целовал обветренные руки
и старенькие туфельки ее.
И тени их качались на пороге.
Безмолвный разговор они вели,
красивые и мудрые, как боги,
и грустные, как жители земли.
1959
I NEED SOMEONE TO ADORE
(translated by Murzin)
I need someone to adore. Imagine, an ordinary ant suddenly wanted to fall at someone's feet, believing he had been enchanted!
Then peace deserted him, and everything seemed dull, and he created a goddess for himself in his own image and spirit.
And on the seventh day, without any heavenly sign... she arose from the fires of night-- her ragged coat light upon her.
Forgetting everything - both joy and torment, the ant threw open his door and kissed her weather-beaten hands and her little old shoes.
And their shadows swung on the threshold. They spoke in silence, they were beautiful and wise, like gods, and sad, like those who dwell on earth.
БУМАЖНЫЙ СОЛДАТИК
Один солдат на свете жил,
красивый и отважный,
но он игрушкой детской был:
ведь был солдат бумажный.
Он переделать мир хотел,
чтоб был счастливым каждый,
а сам на ниточке висел:
ведь был солдат бумажный.
Он был бы рад -- в огонь и в дым,
за вас погибнуть дважды,
но потешались вы над ним:
ведь был солдат бумажный.
Не доверяли вы ему
своих секретов важных,
а почему?
А потому,
что был солдат бумажный.
В огонь? Ну что ж, иди! Идешь?
И он шагнул однажды,
и там сгорел он ни за грош:
ведь был солдат бумажный.
1959
A PAPER SOLDIER
(translated by Murzin)
Once upon a time there lived a brave and handsome soldier, but he was just a children's toy, for he was just a paper soldier.
He would have liked to change the world so everyone would be happy, but he always hung on a thread, for he was just a paper soldier.
He would have been glad in fire and smoke to die for you twice over, but you could only laugh at him, for he was just a paper soldier.
You never did confide in him your most important secrets. But why? Just because he was a paper soldier.
Into the fire? OK then, go! You're going? And he took one step forward; and there he perished all for naught, for he was just a paper solder...
ГЛАВНАЯ ПЕСЕНКА
Наверное, самую лучшую
на этой земной стороне
хожу я и песенку слушаю --
она шевельнулась во мне.
Она еще очень неспетая.
Она зелена как трава.
Но чудится музыка светлая,
и строго ложатся слова.
Сквозь время, что мною не пройдено,
сквозь смех наш короткий и плач
я слышу: выводит мелодию
какой-то грядущий трубач.
Легко, необычно и весело
кружит над скрещеньем дорог
та самая главная песенка,
которую спеть я не смог.
1962
THE MOST IMPORTANT SONG
(translated by Murzin)
I walk along and listen to the most wonderful song on earth-- it has come to life within me.
It's still a very new song, green, like spring grass. But I seem to hear its airy music and crisply falling words.
Through time I have not yet lived, through our brief laughter and tears, I hear some guture trumpeter playing the melody through.
So special, so light, so merry, that most important song, that song I could not sing, whirls above the crossing of the roads.
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Let's shout and rejoice, admire one another.
About high-flown words we do not need to bother.
Let's live in mutual praise, make complimentary comments
For these are, after all, love's great and happy moments.
Let's grieve and cry without concealing feelings, whether
We're by ourselves or whether we're together.
About vicious tongues we do not have to bother
For love and sorrow always accompany each other.
Let mutual understanding attend us at conferring
So that we prevent our old mistakes recurring.
Let's get along indulging and pleasing one another
For life is very short, there won't be any other.
1975
* * *
( translated by Alec Vagapov)
Will you please be so kind as to pull down the blinds, and,
Nurse, you needn't prepare for me any dope.
Here they are, right in front of my bed, keeping silent,
My old creditors: Love and Belief, and great Hope.
Now the short age's son has to settle accounts,
But the light empty purses drop out of my hand...
Please don't worry, Belief, don't be sad, and don't frown
For you still have a lot of your debtors around.
In a helpless and delicate way, feeling sorry,
And touching its hands with my lips, I will say:
`Please do not be upset, mother Hope, do not worry,
for you still have your sons that are here to stay.'
Open-handed, to Love empty palms I'll extend, and
I will hear its soft penitential voice:
`Don't be sad for the memory hasn't yet faded,
I have given myself all away for your cause.
But no matter whose hands may have ever caressed you,
And no matter how ardent your passions have been,
People's gossip has trebly paid off all your debts, so
You are even with me ... You are upright and clean!'
I am lounging, clean, in the fade-in of sunrise,
Right before the emergence of forthcoming day...
Three benign fair judges, three sisters, three spouses
For the last time they trust me till I can repay.
***
(translated by Alec Vagapov)
Darkness has covered the room an'
it's quiet and still as can be.
Good heavens! Your Majesty Woman,
you really want to see me?
Lighting is muddy in here,
the walls have a leakage trace...
Your Majesty Woman! Oh dear!
How did you get to this place?
My goodness! You came like a fire.
Smoke makes me gasp, I can't breathe...
Now do come in, I desire.
Don't stand in the doorway, please.
Where do you come from, my pretty?
How funny! I must be on edge...
You have mistaken the city,
the door, and the street and the age.
***
To O.B.
translated by Alec Vagapov)
I need someone to worship and admire.
Just think, a simple ordinary ant
got suddenly possessed with the desire
to bow the knee in fascination, charmed !
The ant lost quietness and peace of mind,
life seemed so tedious to him. Meanwhile,
he made itself an idol of a kind,
a goddess in his own image and style.
And on the seventh day, at a sudden moment,
she sprang up, in a flash, from midnight lights,
without any sign and any omen...
dressed in a coat, she made a perfect sight.
Forgetting joys and sorrows, bad sensations,
he opened wide the doors to let her in
and kissed her weather-beaten hands, in adoration,
'n the little old shoes that she was wearing.
Their shadows were swaying in the doorway.
They quietly conversed, without saying a word,
like gods, they were beautiful, adoring,
like people, they were wistful and disturbed.
THE PAPER SOLDIER
(translated by Alec Vagapov)
Once there lived a soldier-boy,
quite brave, one can't be braver,
but he was merely a toy
for he was made of paper.
He wished to alter everything,
and be the whole world's helper,
but he was puppet on a string,
a soldier made of paper.
He'd bravely go through fire and smoke,
he'd die for you. No vapour.
But he was just a laughing-stock,
a soldier made of paper.
You would mistrust him and deny
your secrets and your favour.
Why should you do it, really, why?
`cause he was made of paper.
He dreads the fire? Not at all!
One day he cut a caper
and died for nothing; after all,
he was a piece of was paper.
THE MAIN SONG
(translated by Alec Vagapov)
Wherever I go I can hear
the song that has turned me on,
the best one I heard over here,
I listen again to the song.
The singing requires more effort,
it's raw and unripe, in fact.
However, the music is perfect,
the lyric precise and exact.
Through times yet unseen and unknown
through transient tears and smiles
I hear a trumpeter blowing
the tune in the best of styles.
Unusual, light and so pleasant,
it whirls over roads in a spin,
this main song which up to the present
I haven't been able to sing.
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