Заяц Арнав

Спасибо Даниелочка,
Сегодня наступает Новый Год,
а Я так и не закончил перевод.
Всё же посылаю, то что есть.
Once upon a time there lived a grey Donkey.
And every day he used to play
For Turkeys and for Monkeys

And by the way-
His violin was also grey
They liked a lot each other
Like sisters or like brothers.

The name of donkey was MAOR
He lived in place Akiva Or

He was good-looking, nice, polite
And so his tunes were light and bright
And beautiful like rainbow colors-
His touching solos.

And sadly, suddenly without warning
and without trace
Our Donkey found in the morning
Empty space
Where yesterday his violin was placed.

And sorrow Donkey couldn’t withstand
He started searching whole holy land,

He searched grey spots of East and West
He searched deep caves and eagles' nests,
Each pond, each stream and every brook.

And Turkeys searched for him all fields
And forests searched Monkeys,
But nowhere found violin of
Our beloved Donkey.

Not far away was place as grey
and all surroundings were grey
And houses were build from clay
and also painted grey,

And possibly what happened:

When violin began to play
All day it played till the dark.
When everybody went to sleep
No people on the street, no bark,

And, might be, fiddle-bow was lost
And violin was there alone
Was shaken like in nightly frost
And streets around stayed like ghosts.

Or might be wind Khamsin blew in!
It brought thick swirl of sand within
So, my lovely violin waits somewhere there
When weather settles down,
I think I am a fool, said Donkey to himself
I think I am a clown.

My dearest friend could not betray
He will return someday,
And you will listen silver tunes.
From creatures two who are still grey.

Григорий Вольф   31.12.2011 16:51   Заявить о нарушении