Ин вино веритас стих
Обновлено: 04.11.2024
In evening time above the restaurants
The hot air is wild, indistinct.
And heils of drunken men are governed by
The noxious spirit of the spring.
In distance and above the streets,
Above the boredom of manors,
The golden baker's pretzel's fixed,
And childish cry is heard aloud.
And every evening, behind the barriers,
Turning their bowlers aside,
Between the gutters as on spree
The jokers walk skilled wasting time.
Above the lake's the oarlock's squeeking,
And women's squeal is there heard.
And in the sky, to all accustomed,
Without sense the disk distorts.
And every evening - friend, mine only,
Is in my glass reflecting, whole,
With water sharp, mysterious by its core,
He is like me restrained at all.
And nearby, at neibourgh tables,
The footmen stay as in the sleeping,
And drunken men with rabbit's eyes there
"In vino veritas" are screaming.
And every evening, at the hour,
(Or may be that's the only dream?)
The maiden figure in silk gown,
Are moving in the window's square.
And slowly between the drunken men
She goes, not accompanied, alone,
Distributing parfum and mistery,
She sits at window-sill below.
And all her silks are spreading tales
Of ancient, of old times,
As well as hat with mourning feather,
As well as lean hand with rings tie.
And with a strange for me affinity
I'm looking through the dark such veil,
I see the shore there fascinated,
And see the magic distance there.
Obscure secrets were entrusted
For me, and one's sun too.
The bends of soul mine entirely
The sharp wine penetrated through.
And ostrich feathers, bended over,
Are shaking in my sullen thought.
And dark-blue eyes bottomless
Are flourishing on other shore.
There is a treasure in my soul,
And key is also only mine!
You might be then a drunken monster!
I know: thruth is in the wine.
24 april 1906
Ozerki
======
НЕЗНАКОМКА
По вечерам над ресторанами
Горячий воздух дик и глух,
И правит окриками пьяными
Весенний и тлетворный дух.
Вдали, над пылью переулочной,
Над скукой загородных дач,
Чуть золотится крендель булочной,
И раздается детский плач.
И каждый вечер, за шлагбаумами,
Заламывая котелки,
Среди канав гуляют с дамами
Испытанные остряки.
Над озером скрипят уключины,
И раздается женский визг,
А в небе, ко всему приученный,
Бессмысленно кривится диск.
И каждый вечер друг единственный
В моем стакане отражен
И влагой терпкой и таинственной,
Как я, смирён и оглушен.
А рядом у соседних столиков
Лакеи сонные торчат,
И пьяницы с глазами кроликов
"In vino veritas!"* кричат.
И каждый вечер, в час назначенный
(Иль это только снится мне?),
Девичий стан, шелками схваченный,
В туманном движется окне.
И медленно, пройдя меж пьяными,
Всегда без спутников, одна,
Дыша духами и туманами,
Она садится у окна.
И веют древними поверьями
Ее упругие шелка,
И шляпа с траурными перьями,
И в кольцах узкая рука.
И странной близостью закованный,
Смотрю за темную вуаль,
И вижу берег очарованный
И очарованную даль.
Глухие тайны мне поручены,
Мне чье-то солнце вручено,
И все души моей излучины
Пронзило терпкое вино.
И перья страуса склоненные
В моем качаются мозгу,
И очи синие бездонные
Цветут на дальнем берегу.
В моей душе лежит сокровище,
И ключ поручен только мне!
Ты право, пьяное чудовище!
Я знаю: истина в вине.
24 апреля 1906. Озерки
======
см. также Алек Вагапов
The Unknown Lady
The heated air in the restaurants
Is wild and dull as anything,
The drunken hails are ruled by restless
And noxious spirit of the spring.
Far off, beyond the dusty alley
Over the boring country side
There is a bakeshop, and the valley
Resounds with crying of a child.
And every night, beyond the barriers,
Parading, cocking their hats,
Amidst the ditches the admirers
Perambulate with dear hearts.
Above the lake the creak of ore-lock
And womenТs screams impale the place,
And in the sky, the moon disk warlock,
Inanely smiling, makes a face.
And every night, my friend appears
As a reflection in my glass,
Like me, heТs stunned and set at ease
By magic liquid, drunk en mass.
The footmen, true to their habits,
Relax at tables next to us,
And drunkards, staring like rabbits,
Exclaim: In vino veritas!
And every evening at this hour
(or is it just a dreamy case?)
A waist in satin, like a flower,
Moves past the window in the haze.
Without drunken men to hinder,
Alone, she walks across the room
And settles down by the window
Exhaling fog and sweet perfume.
There is a kind of old times flavour
About her silky clothes and things:
Her hat, in mourning plumes as ever,
Her hand and fingers, all in rings.
I feel her close (a strange emotion),
And looking through the veil, I see
The vast of an amazing ocean,
The coast of an amazing sea.
I am informed of inmost secrets,
SomebodyТs sun is now all mine,
My body, heart and soul, in sequence,
Have all been pierced by the wine.
The ostrich plumes, desired and welcome,
Are gently swaying in my mind,
And dark blue eyes, as deep as welkin,
Are blooming on the distant side.
Deep in my soul I have some riches
And IТm the one who has the key!
YouТre right, you heady monstrous creature!
In vino veritas, I see.
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