Николай Степанович Гумилёв.
Перевод стихотворения Война на английский язык.

War

      To M. M. Chichagov

Like a dog that strains on heavy halter
Rifle yaps across the forest now,
Bee-like, buzzing shrapnel doesn’t falter,
Gathering bright red honey from the bough.

In the distance, though, “Hurrah” is sounding
Like the reapers’ singing when they’re done.
Oh, you’ll say that peace is here abounding –
Blessèd village ’neath the setting sun.

And, indeed, it’s bright and seeming holy
As unfolds majestic art of war.
Gleaming seraphim descend on lowly
Soldiers’ shoulders as they have before.

Now, O Lord, we pray you’d grant your blessing
On those reapers as they slowly tread
Through the fields where blood is earth caressing
Those who sow, in glory reap instead.

As for those who over plough are bending,
Those who kneel in prayer as they mourn,
Hearts they have whose flame will burn unending
Dripping candles gutter as they burn.

But, O Lord, I pray in your compassion
Grant to others strength and glory’s bliss,
To defeated grace these words to fashion:
“Here, beloved, take a brother’s kiss!”

Последние стихотворения