2024.05.17.
Igor Severyanin - Колье рондо (Kolʹye rondo) dalszöveg fordítás angol nyelvre
Translation
Necklace Rondo
To Alexander Tolmachev
1
In flax mimosas, under Western glare,
Turned to stone the dearly beloved,
And in tunic and barefoot over the river
In flax mimosas.
You’re sick from sensual dreams.
And there’s something baby-like in the face,
But you, child, strong in weakness
Await him. And you call. And in your voice
Such passion! Flesh is hardened
In this dream. Will your great one come
In flax mimosas?
2
Turned to stone the dearly beloved,
And you stand like a Fenella silent,
And the moon rising above me
Turned to stone.
Your face has gone pale in the moon
In enchanting dream’s languor,
And all around became white-blue.
In each moment country can appear,
Where sensitive is the soul, like our body.
But what is now with your soul? She
Turned to stone.
3
In tunic and barefoot over the river,
And you give charms with quiet sorrow.
But the calls-cries do you hear,
You over the river?
Must be, no: rest in your face,
And eyes are exciting and wild,
Your eyes: under moon the sorceress!
Erected chestnut from the river the spades.
With which mad passion, with which
Insane prayer to the dreamer –
You over the river?
4
In flax mimosas the moonlit eyes
Vainly call for friend, and alone
You burn your shameless ecstasies
In flax mimosas.
And clouds in the river – either elephant
Or rabbit they will accept. The ear of phrase
It’s hard to distinguish. But – quiet.
And the moon weaves sapphire gases,
By your call sweetly lured,
And cling to soul its rays – crawl spaces
In flax mimosas.
5
You’re sick from sensual dreams,
From rustles, touches and hints.
The face has faded, and sorrowful
You were of dreams.
There’s something wise-lying in the fog:
As if – but taking closer look -
Pine blackens on fleur clearing.
And you wait again. To your soul is visible
The Universe. Already edges are limitless:
But it’s a lie! And dark again
You were of dreams.
6
And there’s something baby-like in the face,
In his wide eyes. Message of whose
Chilled in him? And reason in sultry shift
And something is.
What is this? Death? Torment? Someone’s vengeance?
Invisible and painful are the chains…
Somewhere to rush, to swim, to fly and climb!
For what are life, flowers, books and love,
There’s none to whom to hand over maiden’s honor,
Thus over soul drove the quadrigas
And something is.
7
But you, child, strong in weakness, -
Thin and ringing became your voice,
Like wave before you running:
You are – a child.
But on the trout the crowns pink
You cannot count. When will come the spring,
And sleepy lilac would not stir,
And you couldn’t count, though you are clear,
The spiral feelings of the soul! Sleepless!
To count them in readiness – you’re imperious,
But you – are a child.
8
You wait for him. You call for him. And in the call –
Triumph of vanity. And more, nothing.
Although he won’t reveal the faceless face,
You wait for him.
In expectation clear is celebration,
And nervous tics tremble in the eyes,
But you from this are more relentless
Az előadó további dalszöveg fordításait megtalálhatod a következő linken: Igor Severyanin
Az oldalon található minden zeneszöveg magyar fordítás másként dalszöveg fordítás vagy lyrics fordítás csak személyes és oktatási célokra használható fel.
Minden dalszöveg tulajdon és szerzői joga a szerzőket vagy a szám tulajdonosait illeti.