Сны-серебро-трава
I'll write the words by stick on the water: dreams-silver-grass ... through ... to heal ...
Освобожденье душ связано с нашим телом, словно зеркальность луж с небом иссине-белым...
Я напишу слова прутиком на водице: сны-серебро-трава...сквозь...чтобы излечиться...
olen
Странно мое безумие -
ждать, словно жемчуга,
отклика в полнолуние
и убегать в луга...
Там человечье-богово,
там не нужны слова...
Льются горячим оловом
сны-серебро-трава...
Струнно-молочно-травное -
призвук травы и вкус...
Мне не забыть бы главное -
и не рассыпать бус -
капель прикосновения...
Может, я не права -
выпустила мгновение
птицей из рукава...
Призрачно онемение
у золотого рва...
Мне б не забыть парение -
сны-серебро-трава...
Припев
К соколу...летят мои сны, к соколу...
около сердца его, вьются около....
травами росными да серебряно...
связаны вечностью, а не временем
Перевод Миледи Ольга
http://www.stihi.ru/2015/07/12/6857
Dreams-silver-grass...
The clearing of souls associated with our body,
as if the mirror of puddles with the blue-white sky...
I'll write the words by a thin twig on the water:
dreams - silver - grass... through... to be healthy...
olen
So is strange my madness -
waitings, as if for pearls,
Reply - in a full-lunar glance
and to hide in a meadow grass...
There's the human-gods,
there you won't use of words...
By the hot tin there poured
dreams - silver - grass...
Dairy - herb's - stringed -
overtone of the taste and grass...
I wouldn't forget the main thing -
just not to splash of my beads...
Droplets of soul's touch...
maybe, I am not right?
I let out the trice of lives
by a swan from my sleeves..
Numbness is illusive
near the golden ditch ...
I can't forget this dance:
dreams - silver - grass ...
Refrain
To Falcon... my dreams fly to Falcon...
beside his heart, they weaved beside....
By dew herb... splashed by silver grasss,
it means all eternity, instead of one trice...
Свидетельство о публикации №112061206865
Clearing of souls associated with our body,
as if mirror of puddles with blue-white sky...
I'll write the words by a thin twig on the water:
dreams - silver - grass... through... to be healthy...
So it's strange my madness -
waitings, as if for pearls,
Reply - in a full-lunar glance
and to hide in a meadow grass...
There's the human-gods,
there you won't used words...
By hot tin there have poured
dreams - silver - grass...
Dairy-herb's are stringed -
overtone of taste and grass...
I wouldn't forget the main thing -
just not to splash off my beads...
Droplets of soul's touch...
maybe, I am not right...
I let out main trice of life
like bird from my sleeves.
Numbness is illusive
near the golden ditch,
I can't forget this dance:
dreams - silver - grass...
Refrain
To Falcon... my dreams fly to Falcon,
beside his heart, they weaved beside....
Dew herbs... splashed by silver grasss,
it means all eternity, instead of a trice...
Бабка Ежка 18.03.2024 12:40 Заявить о нарушении