City of the Gods -English

И снова мой перевод моих стихов но уже на английский язык, песни по мотивам книги Д.Волохович Город Богов, посвященная ему же, этому бесконечно талантливому автору Денису Волохович. Слушать песню в ВК:

https://vk.ru/audio119926291_456239170_54a6c29c24881f8be2


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City of the Gods - (Город Богов)English

Poems by [Author]; translation by Irina Birkheim
Стихи Перевод Ирина Биркхайм



Every story has its start, I’ll say,
But what’s the ending? Who can truly know?
Not everyone here’s found the way, I think,
I’ll tell you this tale—just me, one voice alone.
It started in our time, no need to hide,
And here’s a Hubble shot—the last century’s trace.
A giant city frozen in the light,
No human hands could ever shape such grace.
No sphere, no cone, no pyramid so cold,
It’s a city! How can I describe its form?
It holds its volume, spires touch the sky,
A great ring circling the star, unbroken, strong.
It’s two in one, like reflections on the sea,
You’ve seen how water mirrors all we see?
Whatever’s here on Earth, it shows again,
Exact and clear across the glassy plane.
Its scale is vast beyond our human thought,
White light embraces everything around.
The star inside it shines for all who wait,
Gives energy and life—believe me, friend, no doubt.
Not humans built it—that I know for sure,
Then who? I longed to find the answer clear.
The theory that we’re not alone out there
Is proven here—I think it’s crystal clear.
I am Viktor—it means “the victor” true,
From Krasnoyarsk, Siberia’s wild and bright.
Our land is beautiful, I swear it’s true,
Nowhere I’ve seen such beauty, day or night.
My job is simple, nothing grand to say,
A goldsmith’s craft—a jeweler’s quiet art.
I see the beauty in each stone and grain,
For me, the metals and the gems are worlds apart.
I craft my pieces—delicate and bold,
Elegant, ornate, or quiet in their grace.
The secret’s simple: I put soul inside,
That’s why my clients come to me, face to face.
I can’t forget that mighty city’s shape,
The image haunts me, won’t let me go.
What if we built it in a game instead?
Bring it to life where worlds begin to grow.
What a wonder we could build online, you see,
How thrilling it would be for all to play!
We’d make so many strange and wondrous portals,
Where people live and rest from day to day.
A city of unearthly architecture,
Where a cold star burns with quiet, regal light.
I’m sure it’ll be a hit, a real explosion,
A burst of tech—the dream of all mankind.
I found the investors, gathered up the team,
They loved the idea—passion in their eyes.
They wrote the programs, coded every line,
And there it was—the first VR helmet, prize.
To make the illusion feel completely real,
We need a capsule built to take us there,
To fully dive into that city’s spell,
Now I’m wondering: what should we name it, where?
“Magic City”? “City of a Fairy Tale”?
“Heavenly Town”? No, none of these will do.
It needs to show its power, strength, and pride,
Its name must carry weight—I know it’s true.
It’s a gift from gods—the city they designed,
There’s no other way it could have come to be.
I know it now, no doubts remain inside,
“City of the Gods”—that’s what it has to be!
We launched the game—the network took it in,
Success was huge, beyond all wildest dreams.
People rushed to buy the helmets and the gear,
Their real-world lives began to fade and seem.
Streets grew quiet, shops were left untouched,
All they wanted was to reach that wondrous land.
They lived like gods inside that digital space,
Young, beautiful, with purpose in their hands.
Why come back to a world of broken ways?
So many problems, bridges burned at night.
The City lured them on with cold, bright gaze,
Hour after hour, day after day, so right.
But wait—what’s happening to the game itself?
New portals open by themselves, I see.
People walk inside and vanish from our world,
Three thousand gone—who’ll bring them back, who’ll free?
Viktor decides he’ll solve this mystery,
Cross the line himself and find the missing ones.
“Only I can do this,” he says with certainty,
“I’m on my way—the journey’s just begun.”
The city greets him with its grand design,
Monumental shapes surround him, towering high.
Yes, gods created this, I feel it in my mind,
But why are they not here? Where did they fly?
Where are the creators of this greatness now?
The bright star’s light, a portal opens wide.
I’m not in the game anymore—this city’s real somehow,
And living things are here—I see them, side by side.
Not people, not the gods—oh, God, it’s awful, clear,
It’s Elens Grey—the gray parasites, I fear.
They’ve found a shelter here, a place to hide,
The law of jungle rules: only the strong survive.
Will Viktor find them all and bring them home again?
We’ll learn the answer in the book, I think.
This story’s told by a writer, hear his name:
Denis Volokhovich—that’s who wrote the ink.
“City of the Gods” is what the book is called,
Fantasy and future knocking at the door.
I hope you’ll understand its hidden call:
What future holds for us—my friend, explore.