"Marina Tsvetaeva. The Best (translated by Ilya Shambat) (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора I have a holy Easter day.
Along the streets of left-alone Moscow I will drive forth, and you will slowly go. And none will lag behind along the road, And on coffin's roof will thunder the first stone - And sleep, self-loving and lonely Will be resolved finally. And nothing will be needed to Marina Our newly-introduced ballerina. 5 Above the city Peter cursed to hell Rolled the delirious thunder of the bells. Turned over thundering the high tide of the sea Above the woman that was rebuked by thee. To Peter and to you, O Tsar, praise be! But bells are higher still than both of ye. While they are ringing still out of the blue - Indisputable, Moscow's primogeniture. All laugh at puny hubris of the tsars. 6 The rain of bells drizzles above The blue of near-Moscow groves. Blind men wander the Kaluga road - Beautiful - Kaluga - song, and the same Washes and washes the names Of peaceful wanderers, in darkness of ones praising God. And I think at these times: Someday I Of you, friends, and you, enemies, having tired, And of compliance of Russian word - A silver cross on my chest I will don Cross myself and quietly go along The old Kaluga road. 7 Seven hills - just like seven bells! Belltowers on the seven bells. |
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