Self translations. Мои переводы моих же стихов

Оригиналы опубликованы на этом сайте.

"Странное. Бесцветные дни"
Things of the Strange. Colorless Days.

If only I were…

I’d be painting on canvas,
But this isn’t my Essence.

I’d be breathing the color,
But this isn’t my Kingdom…

I’d be thinking these thoughts –
But they’re blown with the wind, really,
Wind from the gulf,
Full of silver,
And ice, and - wisdom.

Lines of the Clear –
This is my word precisely.
Stroke, so tender,
But always in place intended.
Shining of White –
Dazzles are screaming wildly,
Shadows  Black –
Flattery’s silenced, fended…

Walls of the Grey
Wrapped in the pale twilight,
Colorless fog –
Drunk with aroma of lilac,
Moon loving steeples –
Seductively-honestly-tight.
Lordly my town –
So lucid and cruel…
Right.



"Шли по улицам Питера".
***

Walking down the streets of Piter*
Strange and morbid like crying cat…

All so squalor, and cold, and wet…
Down the grey ones, and yellow...  and yet
Their stones underneath you…
Just wait…

You do know, you hear, remember it all.
Pacing restlessly ‘bout the hall,
Climbing out of cozy hay,
Thinking vaguely of that yesterday,
Bursting through into sickening dawn
After which all is pain and moan,
Caring nothing of facts and date
You are flying somewhere… faint…
And you’re back into dark tomorrow…

What’s to happen… if…
When?..

*Piter – short for Saint Petersburg.


"Хрустальная сказка"
Crystal Tale.

The Frost and the Moon –
A beautiful tale
Made of Crystal.
So perfectly clear,
So full –
Of the Dream and the Quiet,
Of innocent Love,
Of the loveliest mysteries’ fire,
Of silvery fantasies,
Heart,
And of sheltered desire,
And –
Tears of dearest hopes…