Roadside

// перевод стихотворения Ксении Ващенко "Дорожная"
// http://www.stihi.ru/2017/02/17/5297

I.

There is the train, the plane, the ship, and more:
The birds are falling to the ocean's floor,
The fish is running to the distant flight,
The rails are passing through the window side,
There is the soul; she's like a girl alone,
She stands by window till the day is gone,
She stares outside onto the swale and deep,
And not a word emerges on the lip,
But falling down just like a coin or key,
And spoon is knocking on the cup of tea,
Like rhythmic sound of wheels, and all in vain,
Here comes the dream of neighbor in the train.

II.

What do you dream, my neighbors in the train?
A font of darkest water under rain,
A cloud of coldness, when the silence thrives,
Another stranger's lonesome blue-eyed wife,
That walks along the river coast, and more:
The birds that reached the very ocean's floor,
The flying fish so golden in the blue,
The floating ship over the Neva's view,
Extinguished kiss that cannot be revived,
And me - alone and desperately alive.

III.

We all are lonely: she, and me, and you,
And this old city full of dark and blue
(this city full of rumors, grief and cry)
The griffins, horses, lions of granite.
And if I ask my neighbor from inane:
"Do you mind if I call you by first name?
Where are you came from? And where leads your trace
From river waters' chilling icy glaze?"
He nods me barely in his silent sleep
(the rumors wash its sleeves in river deep)
He doesn't even find a word to me,
But only spoon knocks on the cup of tea.

IV.

This sound of wheels, these marshes and these swamps
(the little time until the stormwind comes)
The God will put it in his word so clear,
The tongue will feel the salty taste of tear.
The plane will fly away, the train will run,
The fish will gaze on me from skies in sun,
But I'm alone, and deep inside of me
The spoons are knocking on the cups of tea.
And girl, and soul, and fishy eyes at last -
They see the story not about us.

7-10 февраля 2019