Одна из английских версий стиха Алины Витухновской ("Я хочу, чтоб началось Землетрясенье"), в переводе Rolanda Delenevengarda. Всех знатоков английского языка прошу оценить его качество. Оригинал здесь http://www.ng.ru/ng_exlibris/2008-02-21/6_quake.html
I want an earthquake to erupt
& realize itself in the wrinkles of cracks of
Nietzsche, in the supreme shock,
In the uterine darkness of the buried women.
I want the signs of decay
To acquires the power of sacred symbols.
I want a sip of poison
For lips of those who drank wine with gusto,
Those fools that look in useless Space
In careless awe,
In this boring Russian Holocaust
Failed to make out a finitude,
Those in the metaphysics of Chaos
Talked about the eternal return.
But didn't see how terrible are Dragonflies
& the planets rotation is meaningless.
Let the fire of flickering cremations
Swallow them! Ash, like dust,
Disperse, for i don't want to stay
Among those who lived blind.
Let the prisoners walk
The circles of Dante's inferno
Van Gogh's moth.
... The bridges opened over Petrograd,
Like a halo over a dead head.
Head, rolling from the guillotine,
Laughed. Drowning in the river ball ...
Hooded black, legitimate executioner
Works until the dawn.
Welcome back, Eternal Inquisitor!
Your diamond of Jesuit's eyes
Reflects blood of coming tortures.
Even satin is red as satin.
All landscapes are gray and dismal.
I remember only one thing -
Seeing world's disastrous nature,
I recognized Armageddon.
Look, the bride hung herself
On the lamppost, like a doll.
Do not you think it is nice
This insipid science of life?
Waving, cotton dress,
Exposes transparent underwear!
That rope's terrible embrace
Is safer and stronger than your's.
What is the human sweaty lust? -
Pollen are blown from dandelions;
I want you to hear the laughter,
The indifferent laughter of the dead.
Eternal carousel of Russian karma.
Be scared, forever renounce.
I want an earthquake to erupt,
In order to not prolong this meaningless life.
Your hands have turned to ashes.
Creaked skeletal bones.
Beauty - imposed mercy.
We rejected her. Zeros -
Human world's canons,
Hierarchy of impersonal gray aphids.
We came - Other Apollos.
We came - Other Kings.
Apocalypse - is catharsis for human aphids.
Step back from the crazy crowd.
Only in solitude is medication.
Don't be caught by Apocalypse!
Don't be caught by fanged burning!
Don't be captivated by false omen!
Let priests graze the stupid flock
There abyss. Look, do not stumble!
Can you see, the poor's nightmarish tentacles.
Predatory, stretching thousands of them.
Beggars are magically insidious -
& you among them, evil, mendicant.
Wiping putrid porch,
Rendered by syphilis holes,
Trice you will ring out and vanish
In symphony of decay. For the world
Today conducts with the score for a corpse.
The world conducts in smoky chimney
So easy, superficial and sparingly
Blows a common destiny.
During the game of certain death,
That equates all — kings and slaves
Paid by those who believe in profit
Of sweaty numbers, as others - unto gods.
With no regret about anyone of family,
Not loving anything profane
Get out! Let human aphids be heated by
This flame, only not you!
Lest fire of others' wild agonies
Would entice you in pagan dance!
All fires - deadly cloves.
Demon drives them into coffins like nails.
There, in the tombs, buried alive,
Pierced by screams, & it seems
Dead seize the living.
Picturesqueness of warranted bile.
Ravenous lion. Nightmarish Leopard.
Taste of vaginas of leo's-fallen women.
Poverty ... And again Petrograd.
Nevsky waltz of drowned lovers.
Russian dance with Mamleev's rot.
And yet Baudelaire's horse,
Which is 'with legs in the air, like a lustful slut'.
All is painful, exuberant, uterine.
Homeland wrinkled futility.
Graveyard's landscape was like a
Bosch's nightmare on canvas.
Grave's worm like rough candy
In the baby's mouth slowly creeps.
Luring hellish poisons.
Death is dissolute. Death entails.
Infant's gaze fascinated by it.
Among the hundreds of the Snow Queens,
Only by death you will be frozen,
rejecting available wenches.
The boy is breathing, and with a bad smile,
Sometimes trembling, shaky,
& in those moments, he is aware
Through the other, not worldly distinctness
The essence of Be-ness, that is - all Decay.
& it becomes clear -
There is no Hell. But Returning Back.
Look, a tangle of worms, touching him,
Devouring womb. Every day more
Putrid worms. But the wheel of Samsara is a
Hundredfold more scary than worm's coil!
This feast, yet during life -
A piece of small tragedy. -
Brief, simple. "So hello, Death-Motherland!" -
You hear children' laughing
Underground rattling unmercifully.
Their a prophecy in which - result of all.
I want an earthquake erupts.
But first - this laugh.