Beside the bird shops on Las Ramblas
A soldier, deafened in the fray,
From thrushes, robins and the warblers
Delighted gaze he couldn’t stay.
And in his ears was roar cemented —
Nocturnal voice of grim grenades.
The constant trills made him demented,
While fledgling joyed in serenades.
The soldier saw the finch’s tweeting
And sonorous fields he then recalled —
He stretched his hand in thoughtful greeting
And quiver on his lips was palled.
What won’t he sell, the market trader?
From what ennui does he torment?
Forgetting songbird, brave crusader
Found hearted hope was all but spent.
So don’t betray your nation’s glory,
And don’t forget how bloom appears,
And don’t give up for chirping story
The blessedness of heedless ears.
На Рамбле возле птичьих лавок
Глухой солдат — он ранен был —
С дроздов, малиновок и славок
Глаз восхищенных не сводил.
В ушах его навек засели
Ночные голоса гранат.
А птиц с ума сводили трели,
И был щеглу щегленок рад.
Солдат, увидев в клюве звуки,
Припомнил звонкие поля,
Он протянул к пичуге руки,
Губами смутно шевеля.
Чем не торгуют на базаре?
Какой не мучают тоской?
Но вот, забыв о певчей твари,
Солдат в сердцах махнул рукой.
Не изменить своей отчизне,
Не вспомнить, как цветут цветы,
И не отдать за щебет жизни
Благословенной глухоты.
«Though we have parted, on my breast / your likeness as of old I wear. / It brings my spirit joy and rest, / pale phantom of a happier year. To other passions now I thrill, / yet cannot leave this love of mine. / A cast-down idol – god-like still, / a shrine abandoned, yet a shrine.»
«I come out to the path, alone, / Night and wildness are referred to God, / Through the mist, the road gleams with stone, / Stars are speaking in the shinning lot. There is grave and wonderful in heaven; / Earth is sleeping in a pale-blue light... / Why is then my heart such pined and heav...»
«Alone, I come to the road. / The stony track gleams in the mist: / the calm night listens to God, / and star is speaking to star. All’s marvellous, grave, in the sky! / Earth sleeps in the radiant blue… / Why such pain then, such weight on the heart? / Do I regret, wait for somethin...»
«Don’t tempt me with your tender ruses, / with the return of passion’s blaze: / a disenchanted man refuses / inveiglements of former days! / My faith in faithfulness has faded, / my faith in love has passed its prime; / I won’t indugle another time / in dreams degrading and degrad...»