Перевод классики

[шанель№5]

М.Лермонтов

И скучно и грустно
И некому руку подать...

It's boring and sad,
and there's no one around
In times of my spirit's travail...
Desires!...What use is our vain and eternal desire?..
While years pass on by - all the best years!
To love...but love whom?..
a short love is vexing,
And permanent love's just a myth.
Perhaps look within? -
The past's left no trace:All trivial, joys and distress...
What good are the passions?
For sooner or later
Their sweet sickness ends
when reason speaks up;
And life, if surveyed with cold-blooded regard,-
Is stupid and empty - a joke...

[шанель№5]

Александр Кочетков



БАЛЛАДА О ПРОКУРЕННОМ ВАГОНЕ
- Как больно, милая, как странно,
Сроднясь в земле, сплетясь ветвями,
- Как больно, милая, как странно
Раздваиваться под пилой.
Не зарастет на сердце рана,
Прольется чистыми слезами,
Не зарастет на сердце рана
- Прольется пламенной смолой.
- Пока жива, с тобой я буду -
Душа и кровь нераздвоимы,
- Пока жива, с тобой я буду -
Любовь и смерть всегда вдвоем.
Ты понесешь с собой повсюду
- Ты понесешь с собой, любимый,
- Ты понесешь с собой повсюду
Родную землю, милый дом.
- Но если мне укрыться нечем
От жалости неисцелимой,
Но если мне укрыться нечем
От холода и темноты?
- За расставаньем будет встреча,
Не забывай меня, любимый,
За расставаньем будет встреча,
Вернемся оба - я и ты.
- Но если я безвестно кану -
Короткий свет луча дневного,
-Но если я безвестно кану
За звездный пояс, в млечный дым?
- Я за тебя молиться стану,
Чтоб не забыл пути земного,
Я за тебя молиться стану,
Чтоб ты вернулся невредим.
Трясясь в прокуренном вагоне,
Он стал бездомным и смиренным,
Трясясь в прокуренном вагоне,
Он полуплакал, полуспал,
Когда состав на скользком склоне
Вдруг изогнулся страшным креном,
Когда состав на скользком склоне
От рельс колеса оторвал.
Нечеловеческая сила,
В одной давильне всех калеча,
Нечеловеческая сила
Земное сбросила с земли.
И никого не защитила
Вдали обещанная встреча,
И никого не защитила
Рука, зовущая вдали.
С любимыми не расставайтесь!
С любимыми не расставайтесь!
С любимыми не расставайтесь!
Всей кровью прорастайте в них,
-И каждый раз навек прощайтесь!
И каждый раз навек прощайтесь!
И каждый раз навек прощайтесь!
Когда уходите на миг!

1932


Не встретилось профессионального перевода этой очень эмоциональной поэмы, к сожалению.

[шанель№5]

А вот какой поэм встретился, автор -
Эдгар По, не знала, что он и поэт был




by Edgar Allan Poe

Rating: 4.27
Votes: 11

From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.

[шанель№5]

HER STORY

by Andrei Voznesensky

I started up the engine and I lingered.

Where should I go? The night was fine, I figured.
The bonnet trembled like a nervous hound.
I shivered. Night lit up the houses around.
The Balzac age, I felt its burning pain,
Chilled to the bone, I couldn't hold my own.
The age of balsam wine mixed with champaign!..

So I looked up, and wound the window down.

They were young, two pretty-pretty fellows,
wearing fur coats, looking slightly careless.
"You're free, Miss, aren't you ? Care for delight?
Five hundred now. One thousand for the night".

I flared up. They took me for a prostitute.
My heart was jumping. What an attitude!
They want you, you're young, you're a whore!
Indignant, I said "Yes", instead of "No".

The other one, so "sweet and pure",
swaying his hips, looking aside,
said: "Have you got a friend, as rich as you are?
I, too, will take it. A thousand for the night".

The brutes! I thought I'd better vanish!
I stepped upon the gas and left the site.
My heart, however, jumped for joy and anguish!
"Five hundred now. One thousand for the night".

[шанель№5]

Poetry Lovers' Page - Marina Tsvetaeva: "I Like That You are Crazy Not With Me…"

"I Like That You are Crazy Not With Me…"

1915

I like that you are crazy not with me,
I like that I’m not with you crazy, either,
That ne’er the heavy planet’s globe
will beDrifting away under our feet, quite easy.
I like that one might funny be and brave,
And free-behaved – and not to play words, rather,
And not to blush with choking a wave,
At easy touching just a sleeve another’s.

I thank you with my hand
and all my heart
For loving me (that you don’t even know!),
For the sweet peace,
I own in the night,
For the scarce meeting in the eve’s fast flow,
For our not-walking under the moonlight,
For our not-standing under the sun’s glow –
That not with me – alas – you lose your mind,
That not with you – alas – I lose my own.

Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, October 14, 2005

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Winter Night
by Boris Pasternak

It snowed and snowed ,the whole world over,

Snow swept the world from end to end.
A candle burned on the table;
A candle burned.

As during summer midges swarm
To beat their wings against a flame
Out in the yard the snowflakes swarmed
To beat against the window pane

The blizzard sculptured on the glass
Designs of arrows and of whorls.
A candle burned on the table;
A candle burned.

Distorted shadows fell
Upon the lighted ceiling:
Shadows of crossed arms,of crossed legs-
Of crossed destiny.

Two tiny shoes fell to the floor
And thudded.
A candle on a nightstand shed wax tears
Upon a dress.

All things vanished within
The snowy murk-white,hoary.
A candle burned on the table;
A candle burned.

A corner draft fluttered the flame
And the white fever of temptation
Upswept its angel wings that cast
A cruciform shadow

It snowed hard throughout the month
Of February, and almost constantly
A candle burned on the table;
A candle burned.

[шанель№5]

А это - Шекспир

Весь мир - Театр
И люди в нем - актеры

(Ура! я узнала!)


by William Shakespeare

Rating: 4.11
Votes: 19

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

[шанель№5]

Я вас любил,
Любовь еще быть может,
В душе моей угасла не совсем,
Но пусть она вас больше не тревожит,
Я не хочу печалить вас ничем..........


by Alexander Pushkin
I loved you: and, it may be, from my soul
The former love has never gone away,
But let it not recall to you my dole;
I wish not sadden you in any way.

I loved you silently, without hope, fully,
In diffidence, in jealousy, in pain;
I loved you so tenderly and truly,
As let you else be loved by any man

[шанель№5]

To K.B. - Fyodor Ivanovich Tyutchev Poems

Интересное занятие искать класссику в переводе, именно высокопрофессиональные переводы.
Вот, кажется, хороший сайт и перевод. Там список мировых поэтов на английском и среди них - русские в переводе.
Но всеравно перевод утярял дух:
Я встретил вас
и все былое
в отжившем сердце ожило,
я вспомнил время золотое
и сердцу стало так светло...