Pomelo

ПЕРЕВОД
моего стихотворения «Помело»
(от 5 мая 2022 г. в 23:07)
http://stihi.ru/2022/09/28/5140
 на английский язык:



POMELO


Like kissed wanderers trammales and tramfemales wander
through the metro and alleys of a flat planet called a country.
You're so strange and worried, apparently seriously.
And filled to the brim with languid bliss,
A bathtub filled with nirvana.

They say that the Tea o'clock is leaking out through the pipe all.
Coffee makes alarm clocks sneeze at night.
And the girls stand briskly at their hours.
Ah, that time!
It was so vast, like a puddle of sea without shores.
Invisible horsemen rush through the tunnels,
in bibs and without boots.

They shout confidently and cheerfully
that we will meet at the photo shoot.
To the hum of electric trains bees hide in the lilac blossoms.
Pretending to be elves, for the sake of playing very little fairies.
Drink and snack on delicious cookies, Pies, cakes,
and even cutlets.

However, my bowler hat isn’t put on the head,
even if by visor backwards.
Not a year ago will not change in the future.
A pirate sails along the Autoban in a "Volga",
like a few centuries Not ago.
His night's lodging can't measure by the pods,
and can't change the number of peas.

And if, under your window, a ladder leading
into the house was discovered. Then you can be sure –
This woman was an accident then around the corner.
If he will be a line, and the legs and hypotenuse are related
by the sum of the squares. Only the square root of minus unit
spoils the facial expression by a crumpled spongelip.

With Mint isn't tea, just its vanilla lace from a labyrinth
of outdated dogmas. Become my companion on the pages
without sails, parachutes, and without trains.
How glad I am to feel your pain by every pressed shoulder blade
right up to  the spiky hair on the nape. You are above me
like the sky with a rainbow, eternally taking own Bastille.
Shake by the shoulders harder, and will fall the apples
from the lysergic suit of racehorses.

Don't worry about the bullets-Pools, they won't fill them all up,
but there are mines floating near the plank boards.
It's better to run off somewhere to Argentina,
or bundle out with the bears among the ice.
In swimming trunks and a T-shirt over a padded jacket
with lint under the arms made in thick cloth, 
When a gentleman with a cane stumbles over ice hummocks,
dropping his pince-nez into the ice hole.

But as soon as Big Ben strikes the High Tea hour at court without dogs,
you emerge freshly washed, fit and tight-clad into felt boots and a peignoir.
And the sleepers under the rails bend, and are pressed into the permafrost
of the slabfloors.
Let me carefully bring my lips closer to you to within shooting distance!

Let the trolls crawl into their bomb shelters to the goblins, Gnomes,
and the rest Nickels!
The filling of explosions has long been Hydrogen –
Neutrons is unaware of signs of decency.
Butter my bread! Put some sprat atop!
With some strong ginger liqueur.
POMELO
gone already into run out, like your traces of thirst 
were removed by the shuffling broom.


9 октября 2025 в 17:31