Александр Третий, шотландский король:
сразу тринадцать человек острят мечи и воинство готовят
против меня – каждый из них лишь только себя видит
на древнем троне шотландских королей сидящим гордо,
но каждому придется переплыть кровавую реку братоубийства,
чтобы достичь пределов самоличной власти. однако, мнится мне,
сначала смерть в глаза их темные посмотрит и разум просветлит
своим пустым и уносящим взором. и многим руку даст…
о, господь бог, обереги меня от тайных подношений и угроз,
а всех врагов своих я собственною силой смогу склонить
хотя бы на одно колено, впрочем, два будет гораздо лучше.
обремени меня заботами о власти, ведь даже простой хлеб
быстрее плесневеет без ножа на блюде и киснет без питья вино.
пусть не всегда в руке держать я буду скипетр и юных дев,
услужливых и стройных; пусть недруги мои стеной меня обступят –
быстрее тем мне будет одним ударом им всем главы снести, -
нет в мире ничего страшней и вредоноснее подобной гидры,
ядовито обхватившей своими кольцами мой собственный народ.
придется уподобиться Гераклу, чтоб гибели не допустить страны,
которую так бережно и долго лепили предки, не покладая рук
и отдавая жизни, ее храня от англичан надменных и норвежцев,
опустошающих наш юг и побережье, будто внезапный шторм. отныне
больше ни один дракар свирепых норманнов не станет в наших бухтах,
а Генрих – этот лондонский убийца – больше не услышит
клятвы от меня: оммаж навек утратил свою силу, и я верну назад
Роксбро и Берик, и скот пущу пастись на холмы под Ньюкаслом
в ответ за пепелища прежних дней несчастного Фолкерка.
я, Александр Третий, король шотландский, закутавшийся в плед
своих цветов и в мае греющийся у огромного камина, хочу, чтоб вы,
мои потомки, смогли в не мной назначенное время увидеть
эти строчки и найти им самое прямое примененье.
пусть бог хранит Шотландию и вас.
Монолог 1286
© Copyright: Коцарев, 2015
Свидетельство о публикации №115011800669
Свидетельство о публикации №115011800669
Рецензии
Alexander the Third, Scottish King:
thirteen people sharpen swords at once and prepare an army
against me – each of them only sees himself
sitting proudly on the ancient throne of the Scottish kings,
but each will have to swim the bloody river of fratricide
to reach the limits of personal power. however, it seems to me,
first death will look into their dark eyes and enlighten the mind
with its empty and carrying away gaze. and he will give a hand to many...
oh, Lord God, protect me from secret offerings and threats,
and I will be able to persuade all my enemies with my own strength
at least on one knee, however, two will be much better.
burden me with worries about power, because even simple bread
becomes moldy faster without a knife on a platter and wine turns sour without drinking.
let me not always hold a scepter in my hand and young maidens,
obliging and slender; let my enemies surround me with a wall –
the faster it will be for me to tear down their heads with one blow, -
there is nothing in the world more terrible and harmful than such a hydra,
which has poisonously wrapped its rings around my own people.
we will have to be like Hercules in order to prevent the death of the country,
which our ancestors so carefully and for a long time sculpted, tirelessly
and giving their lives, keeping it from the arrogant English and Norwegians,
ravaging our south and coast like a sudden storm. from now
on, no more dragons of the fierce Normans will be in our bays,
and Henry – this London murderer – will no longer hear
an oath from me: homage has lost its power forever, and I will return it back
Roxbro and Berwick and cattle will be allowed to graze on the hills near Newcastle
in return for the ashes of the old days of the unfortunate Falkirk.
I, Alexander the Third, King of Scotland, wrapped in a plaid
I want you, my descendants
, to be able to see these lines at a time not set by me
and find the most direct application for them.
May God protect Scotland and you.
Коцарев 15.06.2022 09:20 Заявить о нарушении
thirteen people sharpen swords at once and prepare an army
against me – each of them only sees himself
sitting proudly on the ancient throne of the Scottish kings,
but each will have to swim the bloody river of fratricide
to reach the limits of personal power. however, it seems to me,
first death will look into their dark eyes and enlighten the mind
with its empty and carrying away gaze. and he will give a hand to many...
oh, Lord God, protect me from secret offerings and threats,
and I will be able to persuade all my enemies with my own strength
at least on one knee, however, two will be much better.
burden me with worries about power, because even simple bread
becomes moldy faster without a knife on a platter and wine turns sour without drinking.
let me not always hold a scepter in my hand and young maidens,
obliging and slender; let my enemies surround me with a wall –
the faster it will be for me to tear down their heads with one blow, -
there is nothing in the world more terrible and harmful than such a hydra,
which has poisonously wrapped its rings around my own people.
we will have to be like Hercules in order to prevent the death of the country,
which our ancestors so carefully and for a long time sculpted, tirelessly
and giving their lives, keeping it from the arrogant English and Norwegians,
ravaging our south and coast like a sudden storm. from now
on, no more dragons of the fierce Normans will be in our bays,
and Henry – this London murderer – will no longer hear
an oath from me: homage has lost its power forever, and I will return it back
Roxbro and Berwick and cattle will be allowed to graze on the hills near Newcastle
in return for the ashes of the old days of the unfortunate Falkirk.
I, Alexander the Third, King of Scotland, wrapped in a plaid
I want you, my descendants
, to be able to see these lines at a time not set by me
and find the most direct application for them.
May God protect Scotland and you.
Коцарев 15.06.2022 09:20 Заявить о нарушении