Осип Эмильевич Мандельштам.
Перевод стихотворения Только детские книги читать на английский язык.

Only to Read Childrens’ Books

Only to read childrens’ books,
only to love childish things,
throwing away adult things,
rising from saddest looks.

I am wearied to death with life.
There’s nothing it has that I want,
but I celebrate my naked earth,
there’s no other world to descant.

A plain swing of wood;
the dark, of the high fir-tree,
in the far-off garden, swinging;
remembered by feverish blood.

Read Only What Children Would Read

Read only what children would read,
and dream what children think matters;
once the great things lie scattered,
shake off grief and rise to your feet.

Existence exhausts me to death —
oh nothing it owns is of worth.
But I love this desolate earth:
I’ve never known any place else.

In that distant garden, I’d rock
on a wooden swing. I recall
how the spruces were dark and tall
in the delirium of the fog.

Only Children's Books to Read

Only children's books to read,
Only children's thoughts to debate,
To spread far all that is great,
From deep sadness to rise and heed.

I am deadly tired of life,
I won't take from her any more,
But I love this earth so poor,
For another has not arrived.

In a far-away garden green-blue
On a simple swing I swung free
And high and dark fur tree
I remember in foggy spew.

To Read Only Children's Books

To read only children's books,
To cherish only children's thoughts.
All grown-up things to disperse far away,
And to rise from a deep sorrow.

I am mortally tired of life,
I accept nothing of it,
But I love my poor earth,
Because I’ve seen no other.

I swung myself in a far-off garden
On the simple wooden swing,
Remembering tall dark fir trees
In an obscure delirium.

To Read Only Children’s Books

To read only children’s books,
to have only children’s thoughts,
to strew far away all grown-up things,
to rise from a deep sadness.

I am mortally weary of life,
from it I will accept nothing,
but I love my poor earth
because I have seen no other.

In a far-off garden I swung myself
on a simple wooden swing,
and the tall dark fir trees
I remember in an obscure fever.

Только детские книги читать

Только детские книги читать,
Только детские думы лелеять,
Все большое далеко развеять,
Из глубокой печали восстать.

Я от жизни смертельно устал,
Ничего от нее не приемлю,
Но люблю мою бедную землю
Оттого, что иной не видал.

Я качался в далеком саду
На простой деревянной качели,
И высокие темные ели
Вспоминаю в туманном бреду.

Последние стихотворения