Lena Lebedeva-Hooft (lenaswan) wrote,
Lena Lebedeva-Hooft

2469. Полит.поэзия. Быков за Ходорковского нагло перевожу... Engish version.

Перевожу я вообще-то для того чтобы муж в выходные мог понять наши нюансы... Не более 100 строк в неделю - и токмо для Яна. Но второй раз уже перевожу нечто настолько нахально-уважаемых-авторов, что не грех выложить на всеобщее пользование и совершенствование и попинание. Не мечите уж так уж сильно - переводить исключительно редкий поток лирики Дмитрия Быкова я раньше ни разу не пробовала. Ян кстати пробовал местами порубить - в пользу непонимаемого смысла в ущерб ритму - так что восстановила ритм.

Замены - совершенствования - поправки приветствуются. Я очень "только учусь" в поэтическом (хотя в природных экспертизах переводчески стерва). Ну просто мне опять хронически интересно - передать смысл мужу, а он по-русски ну-никак-ни-пониме...

Автор Дмитрий Быков. Оригинал тут.

Your Honour

Your verdict either kills this little chance, or might become as such the last of chances

Your Honour, I’m a poet, far from laws.
To whom do I appeal, Your honour, whether?
I won’t discuss the details of this clause,
but just suggest we talk on this together.

To be straightforward: I cannot assume that all the world does care for this sentence,
and neither do believe that in a day the country could be changed as one could say so.
It seems we’ve had enough of all bad luck but still one can’t expect that in the morning
he just wakes up and gets another kit as miracle without any learning.

It is the same – the tsar, villains, the people, the snowy forest every other year,
- the country can be altered in a day if only you decide to leave from here.

I cannot say, forgive my God this sin, it will be you to take decisions there;
the fate of Khodorkovsky and his friend was thought and well-prejudiced from elsewhere.
It does not matter much what you’d dare say. It hardly matters what will happen later
– they are the heroes blessed by God, they’re brave, you can’t revert it: they are not traitors.

In Russia there’s the only way to win – it’s to preserve you dignity and values.
While you can hardly say they must be free, - you can’t convict them either, it’s not valid.
These verdicts aren’t accepted or perceived from those whom the people consider shameful,

I mean police – therein so many sins that they are thought as bandits, not as shelter;
OK, they aren’t the angels also, one would say – but don’t we have enough of speedy angels?
Some NASHI angels to strict rules obey, some others at the Seliger-in-waiting?
The other “angels” made a fuss again at Leningrandsky – so much attention,
That normal people probably would gain from “demons”, their dignity and passion.
So let’s accept this influence of two, who’re blessed by history to be as faithful creatures,
The history is simple – it will woe, and it will just have records for the future.

I can’t restrain from yet another sin – would take it true in spite of all my years,
All internet does keep an eye on you, and knows it all but can’t do much together,
All long-forbidden sins are wikileaked, uneasy 20th century forgotten,
And no thaw, all politics is weak, all perestroika turned to something rotten.
Whatever screaming crowd you make around, whatever coup you can predict in future,
You can rebuild the house or the barn, - but still it’s strange to care for bog to nurture.
With all the effort of poetic rhymes one cannot make a change in slimy buollion,
We won’t have a Khodorkovsky street, and Lebedev’s prospect won’t be a name on.

This is the local code of conduct - we’ll cover all in waiting for a hero. The judge who will tomorrow give verdict - will hardly look a knight in recent era… An idiot with his patriotism will scream against in his well-known manner, that “there’s Obama’s money for verdict” or that “the tandem didn’t pay of the tender”. You might decide, Your Honour, as a knight – but still the two convicted will be sacred, they have the honor, dignity and pride against the bold and weakened premier’s hatred.

It’s our era grinning as a wolf, and looking every time with shock and fear - to those who are known to keep the word, whose duty calls, appraised with love and care. There is one only factor – own’s shame – packed in a modern wrap of brass and pewter. You see, I don’t have much to match your flame. And I am hardly an inspiring tutor…

Your Honour, not for mercy here I call. It’s not the mercy to expect in Justice. But there’s the truth, and it exists, and that is all that I would call for you to say in practice. To make it clear, may I be direct: the country waits in tiny little balance for every deed that would it make correct, for little good to keep it in coherence. Let’s pay the tribute to the country flag. It’s so much used – let’s give it back its glory. Not UCOS-two for verdict standing now, but it’s Your Honour’s dignity and honor. It’s history that pressed us in its track, and here we face again another crossing – your sentence might be hope for new phase, or might be in itself the last of losses. This is the judgment equal to the past – The Apple, The Cross, the Stocks or Grindstones Horrow… I won’t choose for in your place to toss, - though envy you decide on it, Your Honour.

Dmitry Bykov
Tags: Дмитрий Быков * Dmitry Bykov, Мысли вслух вообще * Just thinking, Политика серьёзно * Politics Serious, Россия * Russia
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