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Perevod A. Velichanskogo
John Donne. A Litany
Anglijskij tekst pechataetsya po izdaniyu: Donne, John. The Complete
English Poems / Ed. by A. T. Smith. Harmondsworth (Eng.): Penguin, 1973.
M.; SPb.: Letnij sad, 2002.
OCR Bychkov M.N.
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He is stark mad who ewer saith
That he hath been in love an hour.
J. Donne
Bezumen utverzhdavshij,
chto on hot' mig lyubil.
Takim bezumcem stavshi,
on lish' lyubimym byl:
tvoej lyubov'yu zhil on,
vladel tvoej toskoj...
A ty - ty ne tverdila
bessmyslicy takoj.
Zvon tvoj, Dzhon Donn,
ili kubkov na trizne -
chto oznachaet sej zvuk? -
s rajskih vremen
smert' - uslovie zhizni
nevypolnimoe, drug.
A. Velichanskij
I. The Father
Father of heaven, and him, by whom
It, and us for it, and all else, for us
Thou mad'st, and govern'st ever, come
And re-create me, now grown ruinous:
My heart is by dejection, clay,
And by self-murder, red.
From this red earth, O Father, purge away
All vicious tinctures, that new fashioned
I may rise up from death, before I am dead.
I. Otec
Otec nebesnyj, sotvorshij ih
I nas dlya nih, i prochij mir - dlya nas,
Pridi, vladyka iz vladyk,
I vossozdaj vse to, chto bylo "az":
Moj duh v skvernejshem iz serdec
Samoubijstvom al.
Adamov buryj prah ochist', Otec,
Ot tlennyh pyaten - chistym, kak kristall,
CHtob ya do smerti iz nee vosstal.
II. The Son
O Son of God, who, seeing two things,
Sin, and death crept in, which were never made,
By bearing one, tried'st with what stings
The other could thine heritage invade;
O be thou nailed unto my heart,
And crucified again,
Part not from it, though it from thee would part,
But let it be by applying so thy pain,
Drowned in thy blood, and in thy passion slain.
II. Syn
O, Bozhij Syn, uzrevshij ih -
I greh, i smert', chto v vechnu zhizn' vpolzla,
Otdavshis' smerti, Ty postig,
Kakimi mukami kaznit nas angel zla;
Puskaj zhe snova prigvozdyat
Tebya k dushe moej -
Ne kin' ee, hot' budet rvat'sya v ad,
Daj priobshchit'sya k Tvoim mukam ej -
Pust' kanet v krov' i v smert' Tvoih strastej.
III. The Holy Ghost
O Holy Ghost, whose temple I
Am, but of mud walls, and condensed dust,
And being sacrilegiously
Half wasted with youth's fires, of pride and lust,
Must with new storms be weatherbeat;
Double in my heart thy flame,
Which let devout sad tears intend; and let
(Though this glass lanthorn, flesh, do suffer maim)
Fire, sacrifice, priest, altar be the same.
III. Duh svyatoj
O, Duh Svyatoj, ved' hram Tvoj az
Esm' - hot' iz sten, chto gryaz' i nizkij prah,
Pochti ischez Ty, rastochas'
Na spes', pyl, pohot' vo mladyh godah;
Nedugom novym poln' mne grud',
Udvoj svoj plamen' v nej,
CHtob razgoralsya v skorbi slez, i bud'
(Pust' ploti ot siyaniya bol'nej) -
Bud' - zhertva, ogn', altar' i ierej.
IV. The Trinity
O Blessed glorious Trinity,
Bones to philosophy, but milk to faith,
Which, as wise serpents, diversely
Most slipperiness, yet most entanglings hath,
As you distinguished undistinct
By power, love, knowledge be,
Give me a such self different instinct,
Of these let all me elemented be,
Of power, to love, to know, you unnumbered three.
IV. Troica
Blazhenna Troica Svyata -
Myshlen'yu - ostov, vere - moloko.
Kak mudryj zmej, vsegda ne ta -
Ty, uskol'zaya, vyazhesh' nakrepko;
Moshch', miloserd'e, znan'ya duh
Ty nesliyanno slej -
Pust' haosa stihij zamknetsya krug,
Da usmiryayut pyl moih strastej
Lyubov', moshch', znanie troichnosti Tvoej.
V. The Virgin Mary
For that fair blessed mother-maid,
Whose flesh redeemed us; that she-cherubin,
Which unlocked Paradise, and made
One claim for innocence, and disseized sin,
Whose womb was a strange heaven, for there
God clothed himself, and grew,
Our zealous thanks we pour. As her deeds were
Our helps, so are her prayers; nor can she sue
In vain, who hath such titles unto you.
V. Svyataya Deva
Blagoslovenna Deva-Mat',
CH'ya plot' spasla nas; Deva-Heruvim -
Vrata otverzla v raj opyat':
S Nej pervorodnyj greh nesovmestim,
CH'e chrevo - nebo divnoe, zane
V nem voplotilsya Bog,
O koem my revnuem. CHto my vne
Ee deyanij li, Ee molitv-podmog?
Ee velichie - ih vernosti zalog.
VI. The Angels
And since this life our nonage is,
And we in wardship to thine angels be,
Native in heaven's fair palaces,
Where we shall be but denizened by thee,
As th' earth conceiving by the sun,
Yields fair diversity,
Yet never knows which course that light doth run,
So let me study, that mine actions be
Worthy their sight, though blind in how they see.
VI. Angely
Raz v etoj zhizni vsyak - ditya,
Vsyak - podopechnyj angelov Tvoih,
ZHil'cov chertogov teh, kuda
Lish' Ty nas pustish' iz kraev chuzhih;
Zemlya, ot solnechnyh luchej
Zachav razlichnyj zlak,
Ne vedaet, kak brak svershilsya sej -
Tak daj i mne byt' pravym v ih ochah,
Hotya - slepomu - mne nezrim ih zrak.
VII. The Patriarchs
And let thy patriarchs' desire
(Those great grandfathers of thy Church, which saw
More in the cloud than we in fire,
Whom Nature cleared more, than us grace and law,
And now in heaven still pray, that we
May use our new helps right,)
Be satisfied, and fructify in me;
Let not my mind be blinder by more light
Nor faith by reason added, lose her sight.
VII. Patriarhi
Pust' patriarhov strast' vo mne
(Sih cerkvi praotcov - Ty im siyat'
Mog v oblake svetlej, chem nam v ogne,
V kom dazhe plot' - zakon i blagodat',
CHto molyat, pust' na slavu v nas
Pribudet novyh sil) -
Prebud' ih strast' vo mne, plodotvoryas',
CHtob novyj svet mne um ne oslepil
I znan'em novym veru ne zatmil.
VIII. The Prophets
Thy eagle-sighted prophets too,
Which were thy Church's organs, and did sound
That harmony, which made of two
One law, and did unite, but not confound;
Those heavenly poets which did see
Thy will, and it express
In rhythmic feet, in common pray for me,
That I by them excuse not my excess
In seeking secrets, or poeticness.
VIII. Proroki
Vsyak Tvoj prorok orlinook -
On, kak organ, chej v svodah hrama zvuk
Stol' garmonichen, chto izvlek
Edinstvo iz Tvoih Zavetov dvuh -
Sii pevcy, znav Tvoj Glagol,
Rekli velen'yu v lad,
Molyasya kupno, chtoby ne preshel
CHerty ya, chtob otverg izlishestv yad,
Vzyskuya tajn, chto zvuki lish' tayat.
IX. The Apostles
And thy illustrious zodiac
Of twelve apostles, which engirt this all,
(From whom whosoever do not take
Their light, to dark deep pits, throw down, and fall,)
As through their prayers, thou' hast let me know
That their books are divine;
May they pray still, and be heard, that I go
The old broad way in applying; O decline
Me, when my comment would make thy word mine.
IX. Apostoly
Tvoj dostoslavnyj zodiak
Apostolov - im prepoyasan mir -
(Ih svet otvergnuv, vvergnet vsyak
Sebya s priverzhencami kupno v glub' mogil) -
V molitvah ih dal znat' mne Bog,
CHto trud ih bogodan;
Pust' molyatsya i vpred', chtob znan'ya leg
Pred nimi drevnij put'; razvej obman,
Kogda Glagol Tvoj moim slovom obuyan.
X. The Martyrs
And since thou so desirously
Didst long to die, that long before thou couldst,
And long since thou no more couldst die,
Thou in thy scattered mystic body wouldst
In Abel die, and ever since
In thine, let their blood come
To beg for us, a discreet patience
Of death, or of worse life: for oh, to some
Not to be martyrs, is a martyrdom.
X. Mucheniki
I raz tak strastno bylo v vas
ZHelan'e smerti do ee pory
I posle - kogda minul smertnyj chas,
Rasseyannym Hristovym telom vy
I v Avele pogibli, i
V samih sebe potom,
CHtob my smirenno smert' prevozmogli
Il' - huzhe - zhizn': inoj ved', esli on
Ne muchenik - muchen'yu obrechen.
XI. The Confessors
Therefore with thee triumpheth there
A virgin squadron of white confessors,
Whose bloods betrothed, not married were;
Tendered, not taken by those ravishers:
They know, and pray, that we may know,
In every Christian
Hourly tempestuous persecutions grow,
Temptations martyr us alive; a man
Is to himself a Diocletian.
XI. Ispovedniki
Zasim s Toboj na nebesah -
Sonm ispovednikov, nevinnyh, slovno sneg,
Ih obruchenie - ne brak;
Ih krov' predlozhenu ne vzyshchet izverg vek.
Oni poznali, chtoby znat'
Mog vsyak iz hristian,
CHto, kak goneniyam ne bushevat',
Svoim soblaznom chelovek razdran;
Sam dlya sebya vsyak - Diokletian.
XII. The Virgins
The cold white snowy nunnery,
Which, as thy mother, their high abbess, sent
Their bodies back again to thee,
As thou hadst lent them, clean and innocent,
Though they have not obtained of thee,
That or thy Church, or I,
Should keep, as they, our first integrity;
Divorce thou sin in us, or bid it die,
And call chaste widowhead virginity.
XII. Devstvennicy
Obitel' dev, kak sneg, bela;
Igumen'ya ih, slovno Bozh'ya Mat',
Vernet zaemnye tela
Sih dev tebe nevinnymi opyat',
Hot' ot Tebya, kak vsyak iz nas,
Kak cerkov' daleki,
CHtob iznachal'nyj svet v nas ne ugas,
Izvergnuvshi iz nas, izbyv grehi,
Bezgreshnost' nashu devstvom nareki.
XIII. The Doctors
Thy sacred academe above
Of Doctors, whose pains have unclasped, and taught
Both books of life to us (for love
To know thy Scriptures tells us, we are wrought
In thy other book) pray for us there
That what they have misdone
Or mis-said, we to that may not adhere;
Their zeal may be our sin. Lord let us run
Mean ways, and call them stars, but not the sun.
XIII. Bogoslovy
Sonm bogoslovov v nebesah -
Ih dolg snimat' pechati i uchit'
Obeim Knigam (ibo v znak
Lyubvi k Pisaniyu spodobimsya my zhit'
I v Knige ZHizni). Pomolis',
CHtob v svojstvennyh umu
Obmolvkah ne kosnela nasha mysl',
Gresha ih rven'em. Provedi skvoz' t'mu
Stezej ih zvezd, no k solncu Tvoemu.
And whilst this universal choir,
That Church in triumph, this in warfare here,
Warmed with one all-partaking fire
Of love, that none be lost, which cost thee dear,
Prays ceaselessly, and thou hearken too,
(Since to be gracious
Our task is treble, to pray, bear, and do)
Hear this prayer Lord: O Lord deliver us
From trusting in those prayers, though poured out th
Puskaj poet vselenskij hor
Pobedu cerkvi nad vrazhdoj zemnoj,
Lyubov'yu pobediv razdor -
Toj, chto uderzhim my, kak Ty, lyuboj cenoj -
Hor molit vechno, Ty zh vonmi
(Tot miloserd, kto smog
Stat' Troicej muki, podviga, lyubvi)
I sej molitve: da izbavit Bog
Ot very v to, chto my - molitv istok.
From being anxious, or secure,
Dead clods of sadness, or light squibs of mirth,
From thinking, that great courts immure
All, or no happiness, or that this earth
Is only for our prison framed,
Or that thou art covetous
To them whom thou lov'st, or that they are maimed
From reaching this world's sweet, who seek thee thus,
With all their might, Good Lord deliver us.
Ot straha li, bespechnosti l'
Pechalej praha il' otrad-shutih,
Ot mysli, chto Tvoj dvor stesnil
Zastenkom vseh, lishiv otrad lyudskih,
CHto v sej temnice Ty styazhal
Vse chuvstva teh, kto mog
Styazhat' lyubov' Tvoyu, i tem ih pokaral,
Lishiv mirskih uslad, ot teh, chej rok -
Sverh sil stremlenie k Tebe, izbav' nas Bog.
From needing danger, to be good,
From owing thee yesterday's tears today,
From trusting so much to thy blood,
That in that hope, we wound our soul away,
From bribing thee with alms, to excuse
Some sin more burdenous,
From light affecting, in religion, news,
From thinking us all soul, neglecting thus
Our mutual duties, Lord deliver us.
Ot straha radi del blagih,
Ot dolga sleznogo, chto ne zachten podnes',
Ot very: krov' strastej Tvoih
Izlechit v nashih dushah vsyak rubec,
Ot podayan'ya mzdy, chto ne
Pokroet greh premnog,
Ot tyagi k sueverij novizne
I ot togo, chtob duh ne prenebreg
I plotskim dolgom v nas, izbavi Bog.
Sm. Rim., 15-27
From tempting Satan to tempt us,
By our connivance, or slack company,
From measuring ill by vicious,
Neglecting to choke sin's spawn, vanity,
From indiscreet humility,
Which might be scandalous,
And cast reproach on Christianity,
From being spies, or to spies pervious,
From thirst, or scorn of fame, deliver us.
Ot iskushen'ya iskusit'
Besov - potvorstvom, druzhestva tshchetoj
I ot stremlen'ya popustit'
Svoj greh, sravniv s tyagchajshim zlom, ot toj
Neskromnoj skromnosti - ona
Vsem pravednym uprek,
Ot suety il' teh, v kom sueta,
Ot zhazhdy slavy tol'ko slave vprok
I ot prezren'ya k nej izbavi, Bog.
Deliver us for thy descent
Into the Virgin, whose womb was a place
Of middle kind; and thou being sent
To ungracious us, stayed'st at her full of grace,
And through thy poor birth, where first thou
Glorified'st poverty,
And yet soon after riches didst allow,
By accepting Kings' gifts in the Epiphany,
Deliver, and make us, to both ways free.
Izbav' soshestviem Svoim
Vo chrevo Devy - v to prostranstvo mezh
Bozhestvennym ot veka i lyudskim,
V Nej blagodat'yu stav dlya nas - nevezh,
Svoim rozhden'em nishchetu
Proslaviv v pervyj raz,
Ty i bogatstva ne otverg tshchetu,
Raz carskie dary priyal, rodyas' -
Izbav' ot bednosti i ot bogatstva nas.
And through that bitter agony,
Which is still the agony of pious wits,
Disputing what distorted thee,
And interrupted evenness with fits,
And through thy free confession
Though thereby they were then
Made blind, so that thou mightst from them have gone,
Good Lord deliver us, and teach us when
We may not, and we may blind unjust men.
Postich' chrez korchi krestnyh muk
Blagochestivomu muchitel'no podnes',
CHto iskazilo Bozhij Duh
Stradaniem - mir bezmyatezhnyj ves',
Ved' Sam Soboj nazvavshis', Ty
Sbrod oslepil i mog
Ot voinov iudinyh ujti,
Spasi zh nas, Bozhe, nauchivshi vprok,
Kogda nam vmestno obmanut' porok.
Through thy submitting all, to blows
Thy face, thy clothes to spoil, thy fame to scorn,
All ways, which rage, or justice knows,
And by which thou couldst show, that thou wast born,
And through thy gallant humbleness
Which thou in death didst show,
Dying before thy soul they could express,
Deliver us from death, by dying so,
To this world, ere this world do bid us go.
Priyavshi vse - udar v lico,
Razdran'e riz, poprannoj slavy sram
I pravosud'ya yarost' - vse -
Svoyu telesnost' dokazal Ty nam,
I podvigom smirennym tem,
CHto v smerti ty yavil,
Ushedshi Sam, ne izgnannyj nikem,
Izbav' ot smerti nas, popravshi smert'yu mir,
Pokuda etot mir nas ne izbyl.
When senses, which thy soldiers are,
We arm against thee, and they fight for sin,
When want, sent but to tame, doth war
And work despair a breach to enter in,
When plenty, God's image, and seal
Makes us idolatrous,
And love it, not him, whom it should reveal,
When we are moved to seem religious
Only to vent wit, Lord deliver us.
Kogda rassudok - Tvoj konvoj -
My opolchaem na Tebya grehom,
Nuzhda nas ne smiryaet - v boj
My shlem ee v otchayan'ya prolom;
V dovol'stve zhe ne Bozhij lik,
A idola podlog
My chtim - ne tajnu, lish' pustoj tajnik;
Ot very, ch'e nachalo i itog -
Lish' plod uma, spasi, izbavi, Bog.
In churches, when the infirmity
Of him that speaks diminishes the Word,
When magistrates do mis-apply
To us, as we judge, lay or ghostly sword,
When plague, which is thine angel, reigns,
Or wars, thy champions, sway,
When, heresy, thy second deluge, gains;
In th' hour of death, th' eve of last judgment day,
Deliver us from the sinister way.
Kogda vo hramah Tvoj Glagol
Beschestit nizkij nizkim yazykom,
Kogda my vidim proizvol
V sude duhovnom i v sude mirskom -
Cari v miru Tvoj angel-mor,
Vojny l' tvoj mech razi,
Prav' eres' li - vtoroj potop-razor -
V chas smerti do suda na Nebesi
Spasi nas ot oshujnyya stezi.
Hear us, O hear us Lord; to thee
A sinner is more music, when he prays,
Than spheres, or angels' praises be,
In panegyric alleluias,
Hear us, for till thou hear us, Lord
We know not what to say.
Thine ear to our sighs, tears, thoughts gives voice and word,
O thou who Satan heard'st in Job's sick day,
Hear thyself now, for thou in us dost pray.
Vonmi, vonmi nam, Bozhe; dlya
Tebya molitva greshnika zvuchnej
Muzyki sfer, i angelov hvala,
Ih Allilujya ne sravnitsya s nej,
Vonmi: poka Ty slyshish' nas,
My znaem, chto skazat'.
Tvoj Duh dast nashim sleznym vzdoham glas,
Ty, razreshivshij Iova pytat', -
Vonmi svoim molitvam v nas opyat'.
That we may change to evenness
This intermitting aguish piety,
That snatching cramps of wickedness
And apoplexies of fast sin, may die;
That music of thy promises,
Not threats in thunder may
Awaken us to our just offices;
What in thy book, thou dost, or creatures say,
That we may hear, Lord hear us, when we pray.
Pust' rovnym rven'em stanet v nas
Sej lihoradki nabozhnyj nadryv,
Poroka spazm, chto nas sotryas -
Greha apopleksiyu umertviv;
Pust' blagozvuchnyj Tvoj obet,
A ne groza ugroz,
Zateplit v nas sluzhen'ya rovnyj svet,
Pisan'yu vnyav, Tomu, kto Slovo nes,
CHto vnyali my, Ty nam vonmi, Hristos.
That our ears' sickness we may cure,
And rectify those labyrinths aright,
That we by hearkening, not procure
Our praise, nor others' dispraise so invite,
That we get not a slipperiness,
And senselessly decline,
From hearing bold wits jest at kings' excess,
To admit the like of majesty divine,
That we may lock our ears, Lord open thine.
CHtob iscelit' v nas gluhotu,
Zvuk provedya skvoz' sluha labirint -
Tot, gde na blizhnih klevetu
Inoj iz nas sebe hvaloyu mnit -
V bezum'e da ne soskol'znem -
Verny Tvoim stezyam -
Do derzkih shutok nad zemnym carem,
Kotoryj bogodan svoim rabam -
CHtob sluh zamknut' nash, Svoj otverzi nam.
That living law, the magistrate,
Which to give us, and make us physic, doth
Our vices often aggravate,
That preachers taxing sin, before her growth,
That Satan, and envenomed men
Which will, if we starve, dine,
When they do most accuse us, may see then
Us, to amendment, hear them; thee decline;
That we may open our ears, Lord lock thine.
Mirskoj zakon i sud mirskoj,
CHto prizvan nas sudit' v primer dlya vseh,
Vinit nas tyazhkoyu vinoj,
Klejmya eshche ne sovershennyj greh -
Pust' nashim gladom sej sinklit
Syt - s nim i d'yavol sam -
Pust' ih navek raskajn'e v nas rodit,
No Ty otrin' na nas vzvodimyj sram,
Zamkni Svoj sluh, chtob nash otverznut' nam.
That learning, thine ambassador,
From thine allegiance we never tempt,
That beauty, paradise's flower
For physic made, from poison be exempt,
That wit, born apt high good to do,
By dwelling lazily
On Nature's nothing, be not nothing too,
That our affections kill us not, nor die,
Hear us, weak echoes, O thou ear, and cry.
Poznan'e, poslano Toboj,
V nas predannost' Tebe ne soblaznit,
Cvetok sej rajskoyu krasoj
Celil by nas, ne bud' stol' yadovit -
Sej um, rozhden tvorit' dobro,
Stav suetoyu slov
Nichtozhestva mirskogo, sam - nichto:
CHtob ne mertvila strast' Tvoih rabov -
Uslysh' svoj slabyj otzvuk, Sluh i Zov.
Son of God hear us, and since thou
By taking our blood, owest it us again,
Gain to thy self, or us allow;
And let not both us and thy self be slain;
O Lamb of God, which took'st our sin
Which could not stick to thee,
O let it not return to us again,
But patient and physician being free,
As sin is nothing, let it no where be.
Vonmi nam, Bozhij Syn, zane
Prolivshi nashu krov', vospolnish' vnov'
Svoej konchinoj na zemle,
Ne dash' Ty i Svoyu prolit' v nas krov'.
Ty, Agnec, nashi vzyav grehi,
Ih zlom ne oskvernen,
Na nih nash rod opyat' ne obreki,
Celitel' i Celimyj iscelen,
Raz greh - nichto, da sginet vsyudu on.
Last-modified: Wed, 12 Apr 2006 03:44:15 GMT