Константин Дмитриевич Бальмонт.
Перевод стихотворения Камыши на английский язык.

The Reeds

When midnight has come to the desolate fen,
Almost unheard is the reeds’ rustle then.

What do they whisper, and what do they say?
Why are the marshlights among them at play?

They glimmer and shimmer and vanish from sight;
Then again is rekindled that wandering light.

When midnight has come, the reeds sway and shake;
They shelter the toad and the hiss of the snake.

Over the marsh flits a face dying fast —
’Tis the lead-coloured moon who is sad and downcast.

In an odour of slime the mists stealthily creep...
The marshland entices, devours and sucks deep.

“But whom ? for what reason?” the reeds seem to say,
"Why are the marshlights among us at play?”

But the lead-coloured moon, who is sad and downcast,
Knows nothing and sinks till her face fades at last,

And the echoing sob of a soul as it dies
Rises up from the reeds in soft sorrowful sighs.

The Reeds

When midnight has come on the desolate slough,
Scarce heard are the reeds, so softly they sough.

Of what do they whisper and talk to and fro?
For what are the flamelets amongst them aglow?

They shimmer, they glimmer, and once more they wane,
Then the wandering light is enkindled again.

When midnight has come, then the reeds are aquake;
They harbour the toad and the hiss of the snake.

In the slough is aquiver a perishing gaze:
'Tis the purple-hued moon that forlornly decays.

There is odour of slime. And the soddenness crawls.
The marsh will allure and engulf as it mauls.

"But whom ? And for what — "say the reeds to and fro, —
"For what are the flamelets amongst us aglow?"

But the moon that forlornly and mutely decays
Cannot tell. But yet lower she settles her gaze

'Tis the sigh of a perishing spirit that now
The reeds softly raise as they mournfully sough.

Камыши

Полночной порою в болотной глуши
Чуть слышно, бесшумно, шуршат камыши.

О чем они шепчут? О чем говорят?
Зачем огоньки между ними горят?

Мелькают, мигают - и снова их нет.
И снова забрезжил блуждающий свет.

Полночной порой камыши шелестят.
В них жабы гнездятся, в них змеи свистят.

В болоте дрожит умирающий лик.
То месяц багровый печально поник.

И тиной запахло. И сырость ползет.
Трясина заманит, сожмет, засосет.

"Кого? Для чего? - камыши говорят,-
Зачем огоньки между нами горят?"

Но месяц печальный безмолвно поник.
Не знает. Склоняет все ниже свой лик.

И, вздох повторяя погибшей души,
Тоскливо, бесшумно, шуршат камыши.

Последние стихотворения