Я уехал... - перевод Р. Рождественского

 by Robert Rozhdestvensky

I have rided away
from spring,
from spring disorder,
from the april
icicle
and so wet fringe.
I have gone away from streams,
from boy's fights,
from the ruffled up buds
and the brazen sparrows,
from the magpie's chattering,
from my nerves boiling,
from my head turning,
et cetera,
et cetera...

On departure into long way
to the other end of country,
I thought:
'Well, it will be a chance
to live without spring...
That's all the same -
if it exists or not...
My state of feelings will remain stable...'
But...
in a thousand versts
(*versta - is the ancient measure of distance in Russia)
in Tiksi
(*Tiksi is the town, port on Far East of Russia)
I was catched up by spring,
who forced me:
'Wade through mud! '

She ran me down, messed me,
rushed up to my common life
and to my dreams.
I've left
the spring...
I've left
you.
For the first time
I've left your great eyes,
your hot hands,
your friend-girl's calls,
from your bitter tears,
on plane
I was carried away.
I thought:
'Well,
that's not for the first time!
I'll keep my character.

For some time
I shall run away...
I am strong,
I can do everything...'

I was not measuring the height,
the earth was hardly to be seen...
But suddenly I had a vision
of you,
entering
the flying airplane!
In boots,
in old coat...
And you said:
'Lo, you may run away,
But never this action will have a success! '