7. A la Santé
Guillaume Apollinaire
Transl.: M. Kudinov
|
V Tyur'me Sante
Menya razdeli dogola,
kogda vveli v tyur'mu;
sud'boy srazhon iz-za ugla,
nizvergnut ya vo t'mu.
Proshchay, veyoliiy chorovod,
proshchay, devichiy smekh.
Zdes' nado mnoy mogil'niiy svod,
zdes' umer ya dlya vsekh.
Net, ya ne tot, sovsem ne tot,
chto prezhde.
Teper'ya arestant, i vot
konec nadezhde.
V kakoy-to yame, kak medved',
khozu vperyod - nazad.
A nebo! Luchshe ne smotret'.
Ya nebu zdes' ne rad.
V kayoy-to yame, kak medved',
khozhu vperyod - nazad.
Za chto tii pechal mne etu prinyos?
Skazhi, vsemogushchiy bozhe.
O szhal'sya, szhal'sya!
V glazakh moikh netu slyoz,
na masku lico pokozhe.
Ti vidish, skol'ko neschastniikh serdec
pod svodom tyuremniim b'yotsya!
Sorvi zhe s menya ternoviiy venec,
ne to on mne v mozg vop'yotsya!
Den' konchilsya. Lampa nad golovoyu
gorit, okruzhonnaya t'moy.
Vsyo tikho. Nas v kamere tol'ko dvoye:
ya i rassudok moy.
|
At the Santé Jail
They stripped me naked,
when they brought me into prison;
struck down by fate coming round the corner,
I am hurled headlong into darkness.
Farewell, merry dance,
farewell, maiden's laughter.
Here above me is the vault of the grave,
here I died for everyone.
No, I am not the same, not at all the same,
as before.
Now I am a prisoner, and here
is the end of hope.
In a kind of pit, like a bear,
I pace up and down.
And the sky! It is better not to look.
The sky affords me not delight.
In a kind of pit, like a bear,
I pace up and down.
Why have you brought me this sorrow?
Tell me, almighty God.
Oh, have pity, have pity!
In my eyes there are no tears,
my face is like a mask.
You see how many unhappy hearts
beat under the prison's vault!
Take from me the crown of thorns,
lest it pierce my brain!
The day has ended. The lamp over my head
burns, surrounded by darkness.
All is quiet. In the cell there are only two of us:
Myself and my reason.
|