Перевод Черный человек С. Есенина с пояснениями

Начинающим изучать английский не советую это читать, так как из- за инверсий и причастий вы его только испортите.Все хорошо для определенного уровня.
 
My friend, my friend,
I'm  very, very  sick-
I’ve no idea where
This pain comes from.
Maybe the wind whistles
Over the empty and deserted field,
Or, like a corpse in September,
Alcohol sheds my wits.

My head is flapping its ears
Like a bird waving wings-
It's unable to hold the legs
On the neck anymore.

( =It’ s unable to persuade the legs anymore,
“Маячить”- уговаривать( жарг))- 2 версия

The Black man,
The black one, the black one,
The man that is black
Down on my bed sits he  (инверсия)
The Black man
Keeps me from sleeping all night long.

The Black man fingers the filthy book
And speaking nasally over me,
Like a monk does over the deceased,
He reads to me about the life
Of some drunkard and crook,
I getting the blues and cold feet.
(фразеология,причастие- пояснение)

“Look here, look here,”-
To me mumbles he -             (инверсия)
“The book is full of plenty
Fairest ideas and plans.
That man used to live
In the land of the filthiest
Bullies and charlatans.

In December snow
Is wicked pure
In this land,
And blizzards use the jolly spinning wheels.
That man used to be an opportunist,
Yet he was of the highest quality
And best brand.

Was he exquisite,                (инверсия)
And besides, a poet,
Possessing though a little
Yet tenacious power,
And he called some woman
In her late forties
“A nasty girl and my darling”.

“ Happiness”- he said,-
“ Is one’s mind and hands’ agility.
All awkward souls of the wretched
Are always known.
Never mind, if so many miseries
Are introduced by gestures,
Untruthful and curved.

In rainstorms and whirlwinds,
During the wordly sleet,
In bereavements and feeling bored,
To seem smiling and simple
Is the best art in the world.”

The Black man,
You dare not do that!
You don’ t live for diver’s service!
What do I care about the life
Of the scandalous poet?
Please, read it and tell the others!

The Black man is staring
Right straight at me,
His eyes are covered
With the blue vomit.
As though he wants
To tell me of my being
A crook and a thief,
Having robbed somebody
So shamelessly and boldly.

My friend, my friend,
I'm  very, very  sick-
I’ve no idea where
This pain comes from.
Maybe the wind whistles
Over the empty and deserted field,
Or, like a corpse in September,
Alcohol sheds my wits.

The night is frosty…
Silent is the calm of the crossroad.  ( инверсия)
I’ m alone by the window,
Waiting neither a guest nor a friend.
The whole plain is covered
By the free-flowing and gentle mortar,
The trees, like horseriders,
Having got together in our garden.   
(Причастие- пояснение)

Somewhere the ominous nightbird
Is crying out,
The wooden horsemen are spreading
The beat of hooves,
Once again this black one on my bed
Is sitting down,
Raising his top hat and loosely
Casting the surtout.

“ I say, I say”-
He is wheezing, looking me in the face,
Leaning closer and closer.
“ I’ve never seen anyone of villains
So needlessly and foolishly
Suffering from insomnia.

Oh, supposing, I'm mistaken!
The moon is full these days,
What else does the little world,
Saturated with drowse, need?
Maybe she, with her fat flanks,
Will she come here in secret,
And you will read to her
Your deathly languid lyrics?

Oh, I do love poets!
They're a funny folk!
In them I always find a story,
To my heart so well- known,
Like a long-haired jerk
Tells to a spotty coed
About worlds, while
Leaking with sexual languor.

I neither know nor remember,
In a certain village,
Maybe in Kaluga,
Or maybe it was in Ryazan,
There lived a boy
In a simple peasant family,
Yellow-haired and blue-eyed.
 
And so he became an adult,
And besides, a poet,
Possessing though a little
Yet tenacious power,
And he called some woman
In her late forties
“A nasty girl and my darling”.

“Black man!
You’re a grisly guest!
Your ill fame has been spreading
Long since”.

I'm furious and enraged,
And so is my cane heading    (Инверсия)
Right into his face
And nose- bridge.

The moon has passed away,
The sunrise is turning blue.
Oh, you night! Night, just look,
What a mischief you’ve played!

I'm standing wearing a cylinder.
There’s no one by.
I’m on my own,
And - there is a broken mirror .