Чарльз Буковски
если б я отказался бороться
не было бы ни покоя, ни утешенья,
ни мудрости.
за ночью последует
ночь
как ниточка муравьёв
приходящих чтобы вас
утащить.
в мире загромождённом мнимыми
знаменитостями
спасенья не
будет.
вы бы столкнулись
с упорною неосуществимостью
когда пережёвываете свой тост
ковыряетесь в
зубах
или ожидаете фотофиниша
или обследования
на рак.
никакого голоса не было бы
чтобы слушать его,
неприемлемого бога.
даже смех которым вы наслаждались
когда-то, они б и его
лишили.
и бросили б вас
чтоб вы были окончательно
стёрты
как водою
точимый камень.
вначале молодость
отбивалась от
них;
средний возраст был для того чтобы рассматривать
раны;
зрелость же
для того чтоб зафиксировать
незатейливую
победу.
from:"the night torn mad with footsteps"
12.06.20
if I had failed to make the struggle
there would be no peace, no solace, no
wisdom.
night would follow night
like a string of ants
come to carry you
off.
in a world cluttered with the falsely
famous
there would be no
escape.
you would face a hard
impossibility while
chewing on your toast
or cleaning your
teeth
or waiting for the
result
of a photo finish
or a cancer
checkup.
there would be no voice to
listen to,
no acceptable
god.
even the laughter you once
enjoyed, they would have
stripped even that from
you
and left you
to be worn down
finally
like water upon
stone.
in the beginning youth
fought them
off;
middle age was there to contemplate the
wounds;
and now
maturity
is here to record
a simple
victory.
Из Чарльза Буковски - если б я отказался бороться
© Copyright: Юрий Иванов 11, 2020
Свидетельство о публикации №120061202587
Свидетельство о публикации №120061202587
Рецензии
Философское, глубокое стихотворение! Хорошо, что Хэнк не отказался бороться, но он не мог иначе просто, иначе жизнь сожрет полностью, со всеми мнимыми развлечениями и идолами, на кого молится большинство. Спасибо, Юрий! Посылаю вам стишок с форума, как будет вам удобно, переведите пожалуйста! С уважением! Д.
The Angels Say Keep Going
by Charles Bukowski
to bitch too much of everything,
that's weak,
or to accept too much of anything,
that's weak;
we grow weak, we live weak, we die weak;
strong men are myths, they don't exist;
I am the strongest man I know
and I know that I am weak,
where does that leave the rest?
I've finally met certain creative men
whose works had a minor appeal to me,
but when I have listened to them
and looked at them across the room
I knew that I had been fooled by fools,
therefore I was weak.
well, to be weak and to know you are weak,
there's a certain holiness there,
and that's what we need:
holiness, a feeling of holiness,
for this only means a feeling that is
sanctioned and direct
and we have all too few of
these .
we must be our own gods forever;
it's a difficult work,
but it's a work that must begin
or we will hate these walls
simply because we are within
them.
we must be our own gods and our own
angels and our own devils;
my devils are working well,
they are in first-class condition,
and my angels are beginning to fly about
too;
it's my gods that need working on,
they are timorous and very pale and uncertain;
maybe they must be this way,
we'll see.
we would like all our things powerful
we would like all our things to be of grace and
sense and in good condition;
too often we fall apart upon a drop of rain;
maybe that's necessary,
we'll see.
or maybe we'll never see —
1 have hope.
my hands tell me so.
this small circling
from shoulder to shoulder
from neck to belly,
it wanders and whirls inside.
I would most love to please myself,
tonight my angels all sit about
and we counsel each
other ...
all we need do is exist and continue —
that is the answer and the answer is that
simple.
my devils and my gods are asleep
this moment.
Денис Созинов 12.06.2020 11:06 • Заявить о нарушении
The Angels Say Keep Going
by Charles Bukowski
to bitch too much of everything,
that's weak,
or to accept too much of anything,
that's weak;
we grow weak, we live weak, we die weak;
strong men are myths, they don't exist;
I am the strongest man I know
and I know that I am weak,
where does that leave the rest?
I've finally met certain creative men
whose works had a minor appeal to me,
but when I have listened to them
and looked at them across the room
I knew that I had been fooled by fools,
therefore I was weak.
well, to be weak and to know you are weak,
there's a certain holiness there,
and that's what we need:
holiness, a feeling of holiness,
for this only means a feeling that is
sanctioned and direct
and we have all too few of
these .
we must be our own gods forever;
it's a difficult work,
but it's a work that must begin
or we will hate these walls
simply because we are within
them.
we must be our own gods and our own
angels and our own devils;
my devils are working well,
they are in first-class condition,
and my angels are beginning to fly about
too;
it's my gods that need working on,
they are timorous and very pale and uncertain;
maybe they must be this way,
we'll see.
we would like all our things powerful
we would like all our things to be of grace and
sense and in good condition;
too often we fall apart upon a drop of rain;
maybe that's necessary,
we'll see.
or maybe we'll never see —
1 have hope.
my hands tell me so.
this small circling
from shoulder to shoulder
from neck to belly,
it wanders and whirls inside.
I would most love to please myself,
tonight my angels all sit about
and we counsel each
other ...
all we need do is exist and continue —
that is the answer and the answer is that
simple.
my devils and my gods are asleep
this moment.
Денис Созинов 12.06.2020 11:06 • Заявить о нарушении
Спасибо, Денис!Чувствуя приближение смерти, Хэнк стал подводить итоги жизни - с точки зрения философской - к этим мыслям нужно прислушаться! Стишок я завтра выложу, С уважением, Юра.
Юрий Иванов 11 12.06.2020 16:03 Заявить о нарушении
Юрий Иванов 11 12.06.2020 16:03 Заявить о нарушении