Ostara

I.

The pearls fall down, torn off by savage hand
A night in March is donned in wind and snow
Get out of my house, you wretched bloody tramp!
Headlights flash out. The hounds speed up their trot.

A silly joke has set the evil free:
Torn off with fear, a handful of white flame;
The pearls fall off and lose the warmth of thee,
The scent of your breast ready to forsake

And they let go the chilly shoulders I’d extol
A shriek on weather-beaten lips they leave
They fall and fall, and turn to snow-white chalk
They fall and fall, and snow-white ash they bring

Make haste! There’ll be nor peace nor sleep
I’ll run away, but in the teeth of reason
Each pearl of those the Moon turns out to be
Tearing the sky with shattering wolfish ridges

Each pearl of those turns out to be a storm
A flower of lightening, flyby of the black
The sister has got hands of pearls,
The children with the voice of pearls –
And you are everything, my love,
You and the pain.

II.

In the cargo hold, bitter from laughter,
After the sorrow march
Pearlers in their rusty armour
And listen to sinister light.

Poison and marks on their tongues they can show,
Not the flame, but the smoke in their hearts.
O delicate faces, no mercy to know,
Dreams nobody tells about.



Перевод: Отроковская Ратмира http://stihi.ru/avtor/ratmiraotro

Оригинал: Александр Ириарте http://stihi.ru/2017/06/15/930