dizzy apparition, You came to take me on your road, Through rain-soaked lilacs, To your own possession, To the looking glass world. As night descended I was blessed with grace, The altar gate opened up, And in the darkness shining And slowly reclining Was your body naked. On waking up I said: God bless you! Although I knew how daring and undue My blessing was: You were fast asleep, Your closed eyelids with the universal blue The lilac on the table so strained to sweep. Touched by the blue, your lids Were quite serene, your hand was warm. And rivers pulsed in crystal slits, Mountains smoked, and oceans swarmed. You held a sphere in your palm, Of crystal; on your throne you were sleeping calm. And, oh my God! - Belonging only to me, You woke and at once transformed The language humans speak and think. Speech rushed up sonorously formed, With the word "you" so much reformed As to evolve a new sense meaning king. And suddenly all changed, like in a trance, Even trivial things, so often used and tried, When standing 'tween us, guarding us, Was water, solid, stratified. It carried us I don't know where. Retreating before us, like some mirage, Were cities, miraculously fair. Under our feet the mint grass spread, The birds were following our tread, The fishes came to a river bend, And to our eyes the sky was open. Behind us our fate was groping, Like an insane man with a razor in his hand. Oh, good heavens! Dounya! What is it, Pasha?! A fire! But be quiet. He'll get it coming to him! And what if Vitya is in there? What if he's burned? Where's Klanya? What? Dad! - Alexei? - Hello, ma! What's wrong with your voice? Nothing serious. I guess it's just a sore throat. I haven't spoken to anyone for three days. I even liked it. I think it's good to keep silent for a while. Words can't express everything a person feels. Words are flaccid. I just dreamed of you in my sleep. As though I were still a child... By the way, what year was it when dad left us? 1935. Why? And the fire? Remember the hay-loft that burned down at the farm? That was in '35 too. All right, stop pulling the wool over my eyes. You know... Lisa died. The one I worked in the printing house with. - Oh God... When? - This morning, at 7. And what time is it now? What is now? - Almost six. - In the morning? What's the matter with you? In the evening. Mom, why do we have to fight all the time? I'm sorry if I did anything wrong. Printing-house. Next stop: Serpukhovskaya. What's the rush? Hello. Where're the proofs I've been reading? I don't know. Just a minute. Yelizaveta Pavlovna is here. Marousia, what's wrong? Something in yesterday's proofs? In the Goslit edition? Don't be so nervous! We should look in the typesetting case. Nothing terrible has happened. It's such an important edition! Although misprints have no place in any edition. Shut up, you idiot. - What happened? - Nothing serious. I just want to check something. I may be wrong... Let's start from the beginning. I'd rather do it myself. Everybody's rushing, no one's got any time! You think I'm afraid? No, let other people be afraid. Some people should work, and others should be afraid. Well, nothing awful has happened. If it happened, it happened. We've been printing all night... I waited for you since yesterday's morning. That you won't come they probably guessed. Remember what a beautiful weather it was? A holiday weather! And I walked coatless. Today you're here, and they have arranged An utterly gloomy and cloudy day, It rains, and it's getting unusually late, The rain drops run down the cold terrain, Unsoothable by word, unwipable by hand... You see, it wasn't there, was it? Everything is all right. It wasn't... That would've been a horrid mistake. Why are you crying then? I even saw that word typeset. What word? Great! This is pure alcohol. Not much, but it ------------------------------ Читайте также: - текст Ирония судьбы, или С лёгким паром! на английском - текст Пираты XX века на английском - текст Кин-Дза-Дза на английском - текст Превращение на английском - текст Величайшее шоу мира на английском |