Брейгель Времена года-Rus-to-Eng

Татьяна Кисс
Брейгель Времена года-Rus-to-Eng
Юрий Лазирко
Translation:

Pieter Bruegel the Elder – Seasons
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It’s night. The string of rays is melted here.
The moon is tenderer, while cheekbones – sharp.
O’er the forest the black bluing dangles near.
An old man taps with his more ancient cane and carps.
Some dogs are barking, gnaw the getting colder chains.
Discomfort is divinely naive as early summer rains.

And over us, so many stars got their chance to shine.
A chilly wind burns eyes through temple yards.
A silver sturgeon – catch it, have some fun in mind.
The fishing for those slimy and green tenches starts.
And darkness breathes on a merry hail again.
There is some painting art – the houses entertain.

A fish is in the sky, a fisher on the shore.
I can’t save sadness with its only seal.
O’er the sandy spit geese fly, I’ll wait for more.
In murky groves, the spirits of the mermaids chill.
Right through the veins, a clear flame will rise.
And sweeter than from moonshine – sleep in paradise.

So rise from that damp ground, that’s enough to lie:
For sweeter than from moonshine – visit paradise.
So rise from that ground – where we could go or fly?
Just burn out, the star wormwood opening’s eye.
And secretly on the wave of the dusk we float,
In the tussock scatter the stars and forget the load.

What is leading you, what warps your fear?
How about to put on leash affection?
What a knotty snake which twists around you here.
In deep ditches heather ligature’s perfection.
So you’ll find vague forces in yourself again.
And the earthy bush will come in prayers then.

And the night will breathe in gloomy tides
Till the crest of star start falling down.
Bring the smoke and spell – whatever’s right;
For entire August – stars’ north wind’s around.
Not so cool your friendly ties and might:
Recognize, persuade me – you have clouds to slide.

Fading, I am fading in stone steps,
Like a beast, dumbfounded by a flag.
And again a mountain bathes in the sky, then naps,
Yet in vain the heaven in wild mirrors sags.
Pure azure is pouring into soul maze dorms,
Overflowing slightly, looking for big storms.

A young woman flexes the sky’s splashes in a pond.
And the wind comes from high mountains – what a peaceful swan.
And a bush the brown skin is still alive and found.
Oh, unknown yet beast, please sing about the earth in grief till dawn.
You will see the woods that hold the morn in fragments of the dreams.
And a boat of moon swings all around, it seems.

Here in the houses snow of celery gains smell.
Make more space right here with a feather’s swing.
Make the orange daybreak for the plowmen well,
And a nameless icon as a gift please bring.
An old mill grinds minutes roughly – joy of tears-beads.
And the tree of laces – drags convoy of streets.

Shutters with runes' prayers open eyes for us.
Let the wanted tempest rage with the wildest gust!