«В ресторане» Александра Блока на английском языке

Татьяна Чернецова

8 лет назад

Стихотворение Александра Александровича Блока «В ресторане» на русском языке и в двух переводах на английский язык. Аудиозапись стихотворения на русском языке — читает Алексей Емельянов.

Из иллюстраций Ильи Глазунова
к стихам Александра Блока

В ресторане

Никогда не забуду (он был, или не был,
Этот вечер): пожаром зари
Сожжено и раздвинуто бледное небо,
И на жёлтой заре — фонари.

Я сидел у окна в переполненном зале.
Где-то пели смычки о любви.
Я послал тебе чёрную розу в бокале
Золотого, как небо, аи.

Ты взглянула. Я встретил смущённо и дерзко
Взор надменный и отдал поклон.
Обратясь к кавалеру, намеренно резко
Ты сказала: «И этот влюблён».

И сейчас же в ответ что-то грянули струны,
Исступлённо запели смычки…
Но была ты со мной всем презрением юным,
Чуть заметным дрожаньем руки…

Ты рванулась движеньем испуганной птицы,
Ты прошла, словно сон мой легка…
И вздохнули духи, задремали ресницы,
Зашептались тревожно шелка.

Но из глуби зеркал ты мне взоры бросала
И, бросая, кричала: «Лови!..»
А монисто бренчало, цыганка плясала
И визжала заре о любви.

19 апреля 1910
Александр Блок (1880-1921)

Звукозапись стихотворения на русском языке. Читает Алексей Емельянов.

https://www.tania-soleil.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/04/Alexander_Blok_V_restorane_chitaet_Emelianov.mp3?_=1

In a Restaurant

I’ll never forget (did it happen, or not,
That evening): the sunset’s fire
Consumed and split the pale sky,
And streetlamps flared against the yellow sunset.

I sat by the window in a crowded room.
Distant bows were singing of love.
I sent you a black rose in a goblet
Of champagne, golden as the sky.

You looked up. Embarrassed and bold, I met
Your haughty gaze, gave a nod.
To your suitor, deliberately abrupt,
You said: «That one’s in love, too.»

And strings rumbled in sudden answer,
Bows sang out in a frenzy…
But you were mine with all your youthful scorn
And the with the slight trembling of your hand…

You darted up like a startled bird
And passed by, light as my dream…
And your perfume wafted, your lashes drooped,
Your skirts whispered anxiously.

But from the mirror’s depths you threw me a glance
And your glance shouted «Catch me!»
While rattling her necklace, a gypsy danced
And screeched about love to the sunset.

Aleksander Blok
Translated by A. Wachtel, I. Kutik and M. Denner

In The Restaurant

I shall not forget it (that evening either
Happened, or did not): the pallid sky
Was burned and sundered by the sunset’s
Fire, and against the yellow glow of street lamps.

I sat at the window in the overcrowded room.
Somewhere, the fiddlers sang of love.
I sent you a black rose in a goblet
Of champagne, golden as the sky.

You looked across. Confused with arrogance
I met your haughty glance, and bowed.
You turned to your escort, and said
With calculated sharpness, «He, too, is in love».

And instantly the strings burst out in answer;
The fiddles wildly sang, but you
Behaved with all the scorn of youth toward me,
A hardly perceptible trembling of the hands.

You darted like a frightened bird,
You passed us lightly as my dream.
Your scent breathed, and your eyelids fluttered.
Your silks were whispering in alarm.

But from the mirrors’ depths you glanced.
And in that glance cried, «Catch me!»
Your necklace clinked, a gyrsy danced,
And to the sunset glow screamed «love.»

1910
Aleksander Blok
Translated by Geoffrey Thyrley

In a Restaurant

I shall never forget (was it real or fancied,
That far evening?) the yellowish light
Of a sky scorched and riven by flame and, against it,
Rows of streetlamps already alight.

It was crowded. The bows scraped the strings, and, lamenting
Love’s swift passing, spoke sadly to me.
By the window I sat, and a black rose I sent you
In a glass of sky-golden ayi.

You glanced at me. I bowed, and, your gaze meeting boldly,
To conceal my embarrassment strove.
To your escort you turned, saying pointedly, coldly:
«Who’d have thought it! He too is in love.»

And the strings in reply now burst forth, and their singing
Was both savagely frenzied and gay…
But for all of your scorn you were with me: your fingers
Trembled slightly and gave you away.

Darting up like a great startled bird, you winged past me
And seemed light as a thing in a dream…
Drooping lashes, a faint breath of perfume, the restless
Swhish and whisper of silk, and its sheen.

But from out of the mirrors at me you threw glances,
Shouting «Catch!» as you moved swiftly on,
And the Gypsy, her beads jingling, never stopped dancing
And shrilled loudly of love to the dawn.

Aleksander Blok
Translated by Irina Zheleznova

In a Restaurant

In The Restaurant

In a Restaurant

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