Кайлиана, 33 - 11 сентября 2011 01:06

[B]Цветаева в переводе Бродского. (Я тебя отвоюю)[/B]

[I]I will win you away from every earth, from every sky,
For the woods are my place of birth, and the place to die,
For while standing on earth I touch it with but one foot,
For I'll sing your worth as nobody could or would.

I will win you from every time and from every night,
From all banners that throb and shine, from all swords held tight;
I'll drive dogs outside, hurl the keys into dark and fog,
For in the mortal night I'm a more faithful dog.

I will win you from all my rivals, and from the one;
You will never enjoy a bridal, nor I a man.
And in the final struggle I'll take you — don't make a sound! —
From him by whom Jacob stood on the darkened ground.

But until I cross your fingers upon your breast
You possess — what a curse! — yourself: you are self-possessed;
Both your wings, as they yearn for the ether, become unfurled,
For the world's your cradle, and your grave's the world.[/I]

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