Михаил Лермонтов «Кинжал» на английском языке
Кинжал
Люблю тебя, булатный мой кинжал,
Товарищ светлый и холодный.
Задумчивый грузин на месть тебя ковал,
На грозный бой точил черкес свободный.
Лилейная рука тебя мне поднесла
В знак памяти, в минуту расставанья,
И в первый раз не кровь вдоль по тебе текла,
Но светлая слеза — жемчужина страданья.
И черные глаза, остановясь на мне,
Исполненны таинственной печали,
Как сталь твоя при трепетном огне,
То вдруг тускнели, — то сверкали.
Ты дан мне в спутники, любви залог немой,
И страннику в тебе пример не бесполезный:
Да, я не изменюсь и буду тверд душой,
Как ты, как ты, мой друг железный.
Михаил Лермонтов (1814-1841)
The Dagger
I love you well, my dagger, best of friends,
My blade of steel, my comrade gleaming!
A Gruzian forged you for revengeful ends,
And tempered you, of battles dreaming.
You were a gift one tender hand once made
In trust, before my hour of leaving;
Not blood there glimmered on your shining blade
But tears — bright pearls of silent grieving.
Her dark eyes watching me in mute appeal
Were ploos of grief and secret pining;
They flashed with trembling flame upon your steel,
Grew dim or bright again with shining.
Her pledge of everlasting love, this blade,
My silent comrade to the end!
I will be faithful, strong and unafraid,
Like you, like you, my iron friend!
Mikhail Lermontov
Translated by Eugene M. Kayden
The Dagger
I like you well, O trusty dagger mine,
My comrade wrought of cool Damascus steel!
Forged were you by the Georgian with revenge in the mind,
By the Circassian free — for war were you made keen.
A lily-white hand it was gave you to me —
You were affection’s keepsake, its last gift…
Not blood, but pearl-like tears born of the agony
Of bitter parting down your blade ran swift.
Her dark eyes rested, full of secret pain,
Of sadness and of mystery, upon
My face, and like yourself when lit by flickering flame,
Now clouded and turned dull, now glowed and shone.
O dagger, love’s mute pledge, you will my true
Friend stay, and an example set to me, a wanderer:
For faithful, yes, and firm of soul like you
I’ll be like you that tempered was by fire.
Mikhail Lermontov
Translated by Irina Zheleznova
The Dagger
My damask dagger with a soul of steel,
I love you! Comrade chill and bright,
Forged by a brooding Georgian for revenge.
A free Circassian honed you for the fight.
A lily-hand brought you to me in parting,
A keepsake of a time too brief
And then for once not blood flowed down your edge
But a light tear: a pearl of grief.
Fixated onto mine, her two black eyes
Filled with a sad mysterious dream
Like your raw steel put to the quavering fire
Were dim one instant, then agleam.
Love’s wordless pledge, bestowed as my companion
In travel, give me council to the end.
Yea I will never change, my spirit steeled
Like you, like you, my damask friend.
Mikhail Lermontov
Translated by A. Z. Foreman
The Dagger
I love you, O my dagger, damask-sheathed,
My comrade, cold to hand and shining.
By craft of thoughtful Georgian made, who vengeance breathed,
Your blade was sharpened by a free Circassian.
A slender lily-hand transferred you into mine
To bring to mind the moment of our parting,
And now it wasn’t blood that caused your blade to shine,
But teary glint — a pearl-like jewel of anguished hearting.
And then you fixed upon me doleful raven gaze,
Replete with melancholic moment flittered,
Like steel before the fire’s quivering blaze,
At first it dimmed and then it glittered.
To wandering spirit your companionship is true,
To me you are a friend in pledge of love unspoken:
And so my iron comrade, I shall be like you —
Of hardened heart and will unbroken.
Mikhail Lermontov
Translated by Rupert Moreton
The Dagger
Yes, I like you, my knife of damask pledge,
My friend so bright and so cold,
A thoughtful Georgian forged you for his revenge,
A free Circassian then sharpened for a row.
You had been trusted me by lily-like a hand —
A sign for memory — in time of separation,
And now no blood has dripped from you on land,
But crystal tears — the pearls of depravation.
And looking strait at me, the black and immense eyes,
Filled to their rims with the mysterious woe,
Like your reflective steel in light of fire-dance,
Were sometimes darkness — sometimes glow.
On roads, you are friend — the voiceless passion’s grant,
And for a traveler — the object to rely on:
I will be never changed — my soul will be hard
As you, as you, my friend of iron.
Mikhail Lermontov
Translated by Yevgeny Bonver
Комментарии
Михаил Лермонтов «Кинжал» на английском языке — Комментариев нет
HTML tags allowed in your comment: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>