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Леша!
один американец ознакомился с моими переводами тебя. и вот что написал - он правильно понял твою душу? он сравнивает с Дмитрием из Достоевского.
он интуитивно тебя верно уловил?

Леш! тут и про птицу белую, и про Богородицу, и про водку, и про запой. как тебе?
========================
(! I also revised the poem that became DIMITRI'S SOUL under your inspiration. I was even going to include John of Kronstadt as Dimitri's
inspiration. As it is, the poem has a Dostoyevskian intensity which I find very significant. Your words and sincerity inspired me Liza!)
***
Dimitri's Soul - Poem by Daniel Brick
***
I saw my soul on one occasion.
It occurred early on a late summer
day, when the foliage makes its sincerest
efforts to appear green and healthy.
I had no such pretense in me, that's
why people loved me. I embraced everyone
with bear hug equally, then asked
for a handout, to secure the blessings
of the Holy Mother. But my sole concern
was the blessings and curses of vodka!

I sat apart from the other villagers,
climbed up a steep hill, breathless
but alone. There I could see the village
while, and didn't have to greet anyone.
Just me and my bottle of vodka. So that
late morning I was ricking back and forth
in a stupor. I sprawled on the grass, laughed
into the sun, and my head was fastened
to my neck by a tiny thread of blood.
I could fall into pieces at any moment.

Suddenly, a shiver went through me, head
to toe. I pulled my great coat tightly
against my chest. Then a shudder convulsed
me, and my legs shot out, kicking violently.
Then just as suddenly my body stiffened, it
was rigid, frozen in place. IS THIS THE END
OF DIMITRI? HOLY VIRGIN, LOOK ON ME WITH MERCY!
Then I realized I was covered with sweat, my eyes
burned with strange fire which pierced things,
cleared a path right through them, and -

came to rest on a figure clothed in yellow light,
crowned with a red aureole. Her face was serenely
shining. Sometimes it was the face of a beautiful
woman and other times of a sweet child. Behind her
perched on a gem-like tree was a pure white bird
who fanned his wings again and again. The bird
was enveloped in feathery yellow light. THIS IS
YOUR SOUL, DIMITRI. IT IS LONELY AND UNCARED FOR.
IT IS READY TO GIVE UP WHAT REMAINS OF ITS LIFE
AS A SACRIFICE. While she spoke her eyes burned!

I began to sob uncontrollably, I fell to the ground,
clutching the ground and howling my sobs. Hot tears
scalded my eyes, my heart was bursting. When I
recovered, I was lying face down in the grass.
It was dusk... I left the half full vodka bottle
there in the grass. It was the last vodka bottle
I have touched. I have taken many small steps
over the past dozen years and completed a long
journey. I often see that yellow light just
out of reach, and my soul is airy and weightless.

Елизавета Судьина   08.10.2015 18:28   •   Заявить о нарушении