Я очень люблю стихи, особенно русских поэтов. Давно увлекаюсь переводами на английский язык. Нигде не печаталась. Закончила Институт Иностранных Языков.
Поэтический перевод «Белла Ахмадулина «Садовник» — Перевод на английский»
I ask the wicket not to squeak,
I stand in front of it, quite long,
I lean against the gueder rose
And gently stroke its trunk, sunburnt.
I lurk amidst the lively greenness,
And laugh discreetly up my sleeve,
There sits my stately friend, repairing
His broken shoes under the tree.
A funny man, he’s holding wax end
With needle, deeply in his chores.
I’m running jauntily towards him
And shouting fiercely: ”Hello!”
He’s laughing or perhaps he’s crying
And stomping hard the garden seeds
With bare feet. His reddish setter
Is pointing with its tongue at me.
The gardener, eccentric, scholar,
With pair of shoes still in his hands,
He’s walking down to the cellar
And gives me bottles, weird man.
He’s running, dropping his eyeglasses.
With glance at me, furtive and brief,
He’s wiping dust off the piano
With his forgetful handkerchief.
Ah, my unlucky garden keeper!
Enrapturing the friendly neighbours
He liberated poor ground
From fruits that had a bitter flavour.
I eat these fruits with great respect.
They are robust, with salty note.
The claws of their seeds are sharp,
I hear them scratching down my throat.
I am the only one who thinks
His gardens will be flowering bright,
And their outstanding fruits
Will shine with mystifying light.
He’s telling me: — Can you believe —
That ten or twenty years later
I suddenly receive your note
And I’m writing in response…
I do believe, and in my vision
I see a fascinating ground,
And hear the repeated sounds
Of heavy apples plopping down.
He waves his fork with sprat on it,
His hungry eyes are brightly shining,
A piece of salty ripen peach
In healthy jaws is crackling, crunching.