А стены старые стоят

          (Translation into English is provided below)
               

 The old walls stand
    ***

А стены старые стоят
так неподвижно и бесстрастно
и возвращение назад
ужасно горько...и прекрасно

Сквозь память музыка сочится
так жалит бережно и сладко
И тонет взгляд отчаянно и чисто
во взгляде пойманном украдкой

А стены старые стоят
промеж них бродит тень воспоминаний
так жадно возвращается назад
от шёпота до крика боль признаний

А стены старые стоят
и кажется что не наступит лето
и просветлённая печаль
как ты когда-то...ждёт ответа

Под мудрой трепетностью рук
ликует потрясённое незнаньем
и снова жаждет этих мук
всё существо и тело и сознанье

А стены старые стоят
так неподвижно и бесстрастно
и возвращение назад
ужасно горько...и прекрасно
 
    ***   
ПИТЕРКА

 The Old Walls Stand
(Piterka Badmaeva Olga)

    * * *

The old walls stand so still, so cold,
Unmoved by time, untouched by sorrow.
And turning back—it burns like gold,
So bitter, yet so sweet to follow.

Through memories, the music flows,
It stings so gently, yet so deep,
And eyes, once lost, now find repose
In glances stolen in a sweep.

The old walls stand, and shadows drift,
Ghosts of the past in silent roam.
They yearn to pull the soul adrift,
From whispered truths to screams alone.

The old walls stand—no summer comes,
The light seems lost to endless grey,
And sorrow, brightened yet undone,
Still waits for answers, as did they.

Beneath the wise and trembling hands,
Unknowing hearts begin to rise.
A thirst for pain the soul demands,
The body aches, the mind complies.

The old walls stand so still, so cold,
Unmoved by time, untouched by sorrow.
And turning back—it burns like gold,
So bitter, yet so sweet to follow.

         * * *
 
Translated by GURU.I for PITERKA       

...........................................


The Old Walls Stand
by Piterka Badmaeva Olga
Literal English translation by Guru.I

      * * *

The old walls still stand,
So still and emotionless.
And returning back —
Is terribly bitter… and beautiful.

Through memory, music seeps,
Stinging gently and sweetly.
And a gaze sinks — desperate and pure —
Into a glance caught in secret.

The old walls still stand,
Among them wanders a shadow of memories,
So greedily it returns back,
From whispers to the cries of painful confessions.

The old walls still stand,
And it feels like summer will never come.
And enlightened sorrow —
Like you once… waits for an answer.

Beneath the wise tremble of hands,
Amazed by the unknown — ecstasy arises.
And once again craves that pain —
The whole being — body and mind.

The old walls still stand,
So still and emotionless.
And returning back —
Is terribly bitter… and beautiful.

    * * *     21.04.2025
...................................

The Old Walls Stand
Poetic English version by Guru.I — for Piterka
     * * *

The old walls stand in silence still,
So cold, unmoved — so strangely bare.
To turn once more to what once was —
Is bitter… yet beyond compare.

Through memory, music softly seeps,
It stings — so gently, sweet with pain.
A glance is caught — my vision drowns
In eyes that mirrored mine again.

The old walls breathe of ghosts long gone,
Of shadows threading through the light,
Where whispers bloom into confessions —
And pain returns with sudden might.

The old walls stand — no summer nears,
No golden warmth, no easing rain.
Only this brightened, quiet sorrow
Still waits, like you, to hear my name.

Beneath the wise and trembling hands,
The soul ignites in sweet unknowing.
It begs for pain to rise again —
Through every limb, each breath is glowing.

The old walls stand in silence still,
So cold, unmoved — yet strangely true.
To walk once more into the past —
Is bitter…
and a gift from you.

    * * *  21.04.2025