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À la Mayakovsky
Three plumes of the cloudsand fried eggson the baking trayof obnoxiously blue heaven.Calmness,in each cell.The calmnessvirusinto my heartpenetrated.Do not confuse it withindifference,though they are similar,liketwins,their cores hold withinnon-identical souls,they are on differentsides ofvanity.
B. Gogulan
Well done!
The familiar wind and maple foliage
in undertones are whispering to me,
‘Well done! You’ve finished daily business.’
Midday. The afternoon and evening are in store.
Leaves are swept up… The wind has fun!
Though it’s in work to the ears and up:
S-s-s-catters in randomly different directions
All, the gardener has just picked up…
The sun is warming in recesses and in lanes.
The wings of pigeons’ flocks are fading.
And aged ladies, as supposed, are circulating news,
like at 5 o’clock they, as supposed, enjoy their teas!
B. Gogulan
When the picture was being painted, in the artist’s head was constantly sounding The Boston Waltz… Why? Why not The Amur Waves Waltz? – It became clear, when the picture did really turn up in Boston… This painting has an enviable fate – it travels a lot… Who knows, maybe the Amur waves are in store for it…
Moreover, if someone does not see the ocean in the puddle, he just does not miss a long sea voyage!
THE BOSTON WALTZ
A. Rozenbaum
Translated by Em Rostverg
On the carpet of yellow leaves,In a simple dress,Made of the gifted by the wind crêpe de Chine,In the yard, Autumn was dancing the Boston waltz.A warm day was ending,And the saxophone was hoarse.
And from all around people used to come to us,And from neighboring rooftops birds used to come flying,Clapping their wings in admiration of the golden dancer…How long ago, pretty long, the music used to sound there.
How often I see the dream,My wonderful dream,In which Autumn is dancing the Boston waltz.The leaves are turning and fall,The CD is spinning and sings,“Don’t go, stay here, please, be my caprice.”How often I see the dream,My wonderful dream,In which Autumn is dancing the Boston waltz.
Being drunk with the delight,And blindfold about the years passed,The old house, being long in love with its youth,Was swaying with its all walls, and the windows ajar,And to all those who lived in it,It was giving this miracle.
And when the sounds died away in the gloom of night –Everything has its end, and its beginning, –Getting sad, Autumn burst out into tears of a little rain…Ah, what a pity, it was so cozy in this waltz.
How often I see the dream,My wonderful dream,In which Autumn is dancing the Boston waltz.The leaves are turning and fall,The CD is spinning and sings,“Don’t go, stay here, please, be my caprice.”How often I see the dream,My wonderful dream,In which Autumn is dancing the Boston waltz.
I REGRET IT
Music by Y. SaulskyLyrics by L. ZavalnyukSinging V. LeontyevTranslated by Em Rostverg
When a star is rolling along the sky,What are the night trains singing about? –They are singing about that on EarthLove never ever ends.We create our fates in different ways.We have become strangers forever.And yet, let’s have a talk…Love never ever ends!Never ever!
Refrain:
Not with you! Why not with youI have entered the alley made golden by sunshine?Just respond, give a sign,I much regret, can you hear,Can you hear me? I regret much!Let my biggest regretTurn into an autumn leaf.Let it fly to your placeAnd softly knock on the window.Let it tell you,How I suffer from the separation.I regret it! I regret it!Not with you! The separation is endless.Not with you! Farewell, my tenderness.Not with you! Stay in my hopes.Not with you… I am not with you…
A lot of bitterness is concealed at the bottomOf the past happiness good water.Though strangers, you continue to live in me:Love never ever ends.My soul is, as before, faithful to you.And I am screaming through miles and years:There was love, and, therefore, still is.Love never ever ends!Never ever…
Refrain:
Not with you! Why not with youI have entered the alley made golden by sunshine?Just respond, give a sign,I much regret, can you hear,Can you hear me? I regret much!Let my biggest regretTurn into an autumn leaf.Let it fly to your placeAnd softly knock on the window.Let it tell you,How I suffer from the separation.I regret it! I regret it!Not with you! The separation is endless.Not with you! Farewell, my tenderness.Not with you! Stay in my hopes.Not with you… I am not with you…
Not with you! The separation is endless.Not with you! Farewell, my tenderness.Not with you! Stay in my hopes.Not with you… I am not with you…
Not with you! Not with you! Not with you!Not with you! Stay in my hopes.Not with you… I am not with you…
WHAT IS AUTUMN?
Y. Shevchuk
Equirhythmic translation by Em Rostverg
What is Autumn, tell me… – It’s the sky,The sky crying hard under your feet:In the puddles, birds with clouds fly apart…Autumn, I haven’t been with you for long!In the puddles, birds with clouds fly apart…Autumn, I haven’t been with you for long!
Refrain:
In Autumn, in the sky, boats are being burnt.Autumn, I’d like away from the earth…There, where sorrow sinks at sea –Autumn is an endless expanse…
What is Autumn, tell me… – It’s the stones…Fidelity over the blackened Neva.Autumn has reminded my soul of the most important.Autumn, I am again deprived of comfort!Autumn has reminded my soul of the most important.Autumn, I am again deprived of comfort!
Refrain:
In Autumn, in the sky, boats are being burnt.Autumn, I’d like away from the earth…There, where sorrow sinks at sea –Autumn is an endless expanse…
What is Autumn, tell me… – It’s when the windIs again playing with ragged chains.Autumn, shall we crawl or fly to reach the answer:What will happen to our land and all of us?Autumn, shall we be able to hold out until dawn?What will happen to all of us tomorrow?
Refrain:
In Autumn, in the sky, boats are being burnt.Autumn, I’d like away from the earth…There, where sorrow sinks at sea –Autumn is an endless expanse…In Autumn, in the sky, boats are being burnt.Autumn, I’d like away from the earth…There, where sorrow sinks at sea –Autumn is an endless expanse…
The city like a flock melts in the dark…Autumn, what did I know about you?How long are the leaves being torn? –Autumn is never wrong…
THE FEELING IN OBLIVION
O. Mityaev
Equirhythmic translation by Em Rostverg
The Gulf Stream of the feeling in oblivion,Revelation-like, will stir inside,As if, when we are soundly asleep,Inspiration opens a wrong door.And, by accident, enters the house,Where it’s cozy, tidy, and well-deserved,And, a butterfly-like in bygones,In each line neatly dried up.
This is summer, crucified in the sky.This is autumn – my number forty-five.
And the garden advancing to winter In a quiet desolation of the dying grass,Makes our glance apathetic and cool,Withering foliage closely observing.As for kids it’s impossible not to play,For us – as if no hope for resurrection.It’s incredible not to lie,Not to lie for salvation.
This is summer, crucified in the sky.This is autumn – my number forty-five.
But sometimes, just out of a sudden,A slight scent passes through the air,And makes everything come to life,And doubt be banished by hope.And again the Gulf Stream will overflow,And the spring-like warmth will overcome.Simply, we are a little bit sad,We are simply in no mood.
This is summer, crucified in the sky.This is autumn – my number forty-five.