Гюля Холл

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»

The Gardener

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.


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