Sergei Yesenin - Чёрный человек (Chyornyy chelovek) dalszöveg fordítás angol nyelvre

English
Translation
#1#2

The Black Man

My friend, my friend,
I’m very ill, very much, very!
I don’t even know where it came from, this pain.
‘Guess as a wind blows over barren fields,
The wind weary,
Or like it rages through a forest in September,
So does the alcohol through my brain.
 

My head flips its ears
Like its wings a pale bird.
It carries around the neck
The feet that rapidly lose their might.
A black man, black man,
Black, black…
A black man
Sits on my bed.
The black man
Doesn’t let me sleep all night.
 

The black man
Drags his finger across a repulsive book
And, mumbling over me
Like a monk over the dead,
He reads the life to me
Of some rogue and schnook,
Filling my soul with the sadness and dread.
The black man,
Black, black...
 

'Listen, listen –
He mumbles and tells –
The book has many
Immaculate beliefs.
That man had lived
In the country
Of most disgusting
Charlatans and thieves.
 

In December in that country
The snow is incredibly pure
And the snowstorms start
Their spins without rage.
That man was an adventurer,
He was great
And of the highest rate.
 

He was handsome too,
And a poet in addition,
Though of a rather small
But a serious might,
And a woman of over forty
Without any inhibition,
He called a beauty
And his sweetheart.'
 

“Happiness is – he spoke –
An art of mind and hands.
All unskillful souls
Are as unhappy as flowers.
It matters nothing
That great strains
Are inflicted by
Crooked and false gestures.
 

In a storm, gale,
And during all pogrom,
With heavy losses
And sorrow’s curse,
To be all smiles, natural, calm –
Is the greatest art in the universe.”
 

' Black man! Basta!
What a prank!
Don’t poke your nose there
And thus don’t overstay!
What my life has to do
With that scandalous poet?
Go to someone else, bro,
To read that and convey!'
 

The black man
Stares at me steadily,
A blue film already
Covers the eyes softly –
As he wants to tell me
That I’m a thief, good for nothing,
Who had robbed someone
Without any mercy.
 

------------------------
------------------------
 

My friend, my friend,
I’m very ill, very much, very.
I don’t even know where it came from, this pain.
‘Guess because the wind blows
Over barren fields – the wind weary,
Or as it rages through the forest in September
So does the alcohol through my brain.
 

The night is full of frost...
The crossroad’s peace of dead.
I’m alone next to the pane,
Not waiting for a guest or friend.
The whole plain is covered by snow
Dry and softened
And the trees like horsemen
In a circle stand in the garden
 

And a bird cries somewhere –
A nightly, ominous, pale.
Wooden knights sow
With hooves a soft thud.
And the black man again
Sits in my chair,
Lifting a top hat
And pushing his tailcoat back without care.
 

'Listen, listen! –
He rattles in my face
While swings closer and closer
Leaning more and more
With a stare following.
I've never seen among scumbags
Someone from insomnia
So unnecessary suffering.
 

Oh, let’s say
I’m mistaken as the moonlight is ‘bonne’.
To add something else to this dream,
With a mimicry?
With rounded hips
Secretly might pay a visit ‘the one’,
So you can recite to her
Your heavy and rotten poetry?
 

Oh, I love poets!
What lovely folks and gang!
I always find in them
Novels, known and heart breaking –
Like when to an untidy student
A long-haired scumbag
Talks about worlds
While from the lust shaking.
 

I don’t know, can’t recall,
In some village –
Might be Kaluga,
Might be Ryazan,
There lived a boy
In a peasant cottage,
With a wheaten hair
And the eyes blue as an ocean.
 

And he grew up,
A poet in addition,
Though with a rather small
But a serious might,
And a woman of over forty,
Without any inhibition,
He called a beauty
And his sweetheart.
 

'Black man!
You are a guest of terrible kind.
Your notoriety
Is been spread around.
I’m furious and
Enraged, blind
My fist swings
To punch his snout.
 

---------------
 

The moon has faded.
In window - the dawn’s blur.
Oh, you, the night!
What did you concoct,
Like an ogre?
I have my top hat on.
No one is with me there.
I am alone and - a shattered mirror...
 




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