Even some of those who have at best
Five short minutes left to live — no more,
Toil and moil without a minute’s rest
As if they had some hundred years in store,
While snowy peaks, coeval with Creation,
In silence stern regarding petty Man,
Stand frozen still in mournful expectation
As if but five more minutes were their span.
Даже те, кому осталось, может,
Пять минут глядеть на белый свет,
Суетятся, лезут вон из кожи,
Словно жить еще им сотни лет.
А вдали в молчанье стовековом
Горы, глядя на шумливый люд,
Замерли, печальны и суровы,
Словно жить всего им пять минут.
Пер. Н. Гребнева
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