Октябрь - стремительный, такой сочный, такой ароматный в своем золотисто-алом сиянии, с ранними белыми заморозками, с ярким преображением листьев - это совсем другая, волшебная пора, последний дерзкий ликующий всплеск перед лицом надвигающейся стужи.
\Джоанн Харрис. "Пять четвертинок апельсина!" \
Вчера ко мне приходило СЧАСТЬЕ...
Оно было одето в Осень, пахло разноцветными дождями и почему-то пряниками. Мы сидели на кухне, я угощала его горячим чаем, а оно добавляло в него насушенные за Август лепестки опавших звезд.
Потом оно село на мой подоконник и тихонько запело.
Оно пело о светлом, о важном, о любимом, о том, что молча живет в Сердце и делает руки нежными, оно пело о смехе людей, похожим на теплый янтарный ветер, и о мокрых от росы тропинках, ведущих к тому, что ищет каждый.
Мы провели вместе всю ночь. оно то птицей садилось на плечо, то мягкой урчащей кошкой лежало на коленях. А утром оно засобиралось в путь, извинялось, обещало обязательно заглядывать на огонек, потом накинуло на тонкие плечики радугу, раскрашенную детскими снами, и вылетело за дверь. Но я рада, потому что обернувшись на пороге, оно сказало мне, что идет к тебе.
Lost in the night dark and in the mist
a woman's drawing figures on her face
She's drawing flowers - and imaginary kiss
and cutting anew her loneliness in a grace
She's sewing a bit of a stolen sky
and maybe that's how She feels herself light
She's gathering worlds, she doesn't know why
maybe because she's no planet inside
She's passing right through your rainbow
the wind is bringing her own quiet steps
feathers she's wearing , she neatly assembles
trying to fly above Silence , she's wept
I smile at her ... No matter that it's sad
to be herself - she doesn't like it
A woman is trying to lie (to feel glad)
but how can she lie her own inner psychie
I like the sadness when it has no reason
the cosy feeling of her speechless palms
It comes barefoot with an eve in mid-season
it whispers its spell , so tender and calm.
It's reflecting in my ... dark woman's eyes
in the high-tide of tenderly Moon-lighted water
the sky weighs an anchor, then sails, even flies
but where,I don't know,(although I'm his daughter)
:-)))..... ( +27 % ) ....
It is strange -a bit sad ,but it is calm,too
fresh and lonely,delicious, tasting like cherry
that a wind I become and It's time I just flew
up the sky to meet Rain, its drops I shall carry...
================
then please, send some to me
.....into my palms
and I promise that I will
... try to feel the rain water
and I'll let it flow down
.... tenderly , calm
because I know ... that you're
the Sky's Only daughter
No , do not turn me in some kind of a dream
do not lock me in sleep or imaginations
I have my breath and pulse ... I can feel
and I have my lips - for you I've kept my sensations
I have tenderness that is as big as the Earth
which I have to give , to give to someone
and that is why I can't sleep since my birth
and that is why I wait for you , Sun ...
And I beg you , not to make me a craving !
All the cravings just die with the dawn
I have love in my heart, Ive been saving it
that just has to come true , nothing more...
The day is soft and warm like a kitty
it's sleeping in the branches of the trees
It's very lazy ,a day-off , it seems witty
it slowly rolls on the planet, like breeze
It's pulling its clouds and making a shadow
It's talking to the doves, while expecting the rain
swinging the wind on the lamp posts,like meadow
and dazzled by sunshine ,it is blinking again
The day slowly walks ,with a moderate pace
it's whistling something , and I can hear
a very small bee's perching onto its face
it secretly tries to look like a tear ...
Today I am diferent,unreliable (not soften)
and I simply forget You 'fore I go sleep
and tonight my window I will leave open
to let into my room the wind tenderly creep
He isn't imaginary , as You always are
He has no outlines, but he can't be more real
He has no name, no face , not a scar
but His hands are touching and I can feel Him
Tonight I'll be listening to Jo Dasen
and over my body the breeze will go down
On the star-sprinkled in silver bluish saten
the memory of You is slowly comin' 'round...
The Day got asleep Under the sill of the window
holding in hands some wind and some rays
the stars are rustling above the trees singing
with tiny wings ... and this Moon there stays ...
On the Moon you are sitting , silent and numb
maybe you're drawing some Lunar Poppies
in just a few seconds your lines will be done
or you're sitting and waiting for me to drop in...
Tell me about it .Tell me of Blue Sky.
How It will build a bridge of its clouds
I will walk on it, to reach you ( or I'll fly)
in a night full of stars , under its shrouds...
I have half of the Moon , raindrops in a glass
A handful of poems in my pocket ( unfinished )
the voice of the birds above sea ,ring (and grass)
a thrill of music in air, which cannot diminish
I've a taste of an apple. My eyes mesmerize
two hands for not-hugging I also have
I am simply unbearable to be touched ( 'cos Time flies )
and No-One's I am, I am No-One's beloved ...
The keeper of the Night sky's gotten angry
he's collected all the stars in his fist
Alone He's standing in his tower-tree
smoking his pipe - and there comes mist.
The whole Night sky's now full of his clouds
and the sea gulls are murmuring something
Moon's putting her night gown , above the crouds
and gets in between the tree-boughs (a bit bumping)
A taxi's pretending to be a worm-glow
that flies across the city that is dreaming
the windows are twinkling with a careless flow
and more carelessly not a word they are streaming
In nights like those I feel so much lonesome
and I feel like crying , though I don't know why
If you have existed, you'd come to me , warm me
and you'd whisper softly "My love...Good night"...
I am careless , I am negligent and I am windy
I am probably a cloud over the sea
The Moon is diving in my hairs her fingers
I'm dancing with weather-cocks and I say "let it be"
The roofs are looking at me very sharp
and they are dreaming to be emormous ship sails
the trees are knitting a green thread on a harp
and then they knit it into leaves and veils
I want to rain down - onto the sand
onto the streets that are dressed in black tuxedo
I want to rain on the vases - of stone terra land
I want to rain on the silence ...in every window
But most of all - I want to rain in your palms
and on your face I want to rain down softly ...
I am probably a cloud over sea , now it's calm
and my hairs are Moon , dishevelled and lofty...
=================================
Nothing special ...
The keeper of the Night sky's gotten angry
he's collected all the stars in his fist
Alone He's standing in his tower-tree
smoking his pipe - and there comes mist.
The whole Night sky's now full of his clouds
and the sea gulls are murmuring something
Moon's putting her night gown , above the crouds
and gets in between the tree-boughs (a bit bumping)
A taxi's pretending to be a worm-glow
that flies across the city that is dreaming
the windows are twinkling with a careless flow
and more carelessly not a word they are streaming
In nights like those I feel so much lonesome
and I feel like crying , though I don't know why
If you have existed, you'd come to me , warm me
and you'd whisper softly "My love...Good night"...
английски превод yanbibiyan
Family Guy - Stewie is dancing with Gene Kelly [HQ]
Добър вечер, моя Тишина.
Уморените ми думи те обичат.
Прегърни ме. Аз съм си сама.
Имам си небето, теб и ...всичко.
Имам си намигащи звезди
и една Луна, като усмивка.
Имам дъжд. Понякога вали.
А понякога се крие и не иска.
Имам в джоба мидена черупка
/а във нея - цялото море/.
С облаците мога да препускам
/те са, всъщност, прерийни коне/.
Имам птици, със които да говоря.
Имам пулс /звучи като тамтам :)/.
Имам обич. Страшно много обич.
Само че на кой ли да я дам...
Все едно...Нали си имам тебе.
И едно небе с Луна.
Толкова е нощно във ръцете ти...
Добър вечер, моя Тишина.
There , some floors - higher and up
above fields of small clouds that are in blossom
steps are roaming -so sandy, naked with love
on the grass of much green rainfalling ...awesome
There ,even the winds are falling in love
and the stars stand so still feeling the passion
I'm your sunniest flower,that looks from above
Your tiny woman (with very long lashes)...
There I'm waiting for you - sewing rainbows
and I'm stretching them - roads over You
You will come ,and then we shall assemble
into One ,in my house ,on a beach of sky blue ...
Когато те сънувам, нямаш име.
Защото то съвсем не ти е нужно.
В съня ми само двамата се скитаме
до ъгъла на моето събуждане,
където гаснат восъчни звезди
и плачат люляците с дъх на пролет.
А ние с теб задъхано мълчим,
изгубили инстинкта да говорим.
Когато те сънувам, зная кой си.
Защото те нашепва тишината.
А аз съм твоя. Безгранично твоя
в очите ти, в които ме сънува лятото...
When I'm dreaming of You ,You have no name
because You don't ... need it at all
we wander there ... again and again
up to the corner of my own waking up call
...where all waxen stars are silently fading
and all the spring lilacs cry their tears
and we both together are quietly waiting
we've lost our instincts to talk (we just hear)
When I'm dreaming of You , I know who you are
because the silence whispers You tender
and I am just yours , with unlimited heart
into your eyes where the summer dreams blend in ...
The day is now leaving - dusky , low
it gathers all sadness that seems so grey
the sky's getting born after this flow
and the Sun remembers of a Sun(ny)-day
It rises high up above the silent city
(although it is time to go down , fade away)
but there comes light , a lot of ,so pretty
that down into its sunshine bosom weights
It needs to give its light away
onto the roof-tops , rusty and awaiting
onto the windows , dressed in curtains gay
to sea-port and trains that are skating :-)
The light will wash the street to the beach
and also the ships all sunken in salt
The Sun will sit awhile on the bridge
before turning a purple Sunset (by default)...
Аз съм се раждала между думите
и съм писала с дъжд по лицето ти.
Избродирах ти сто пълнолуния
по ревера на дългата вечност.
После будех тревите в съня ти
и небето на изток светлееше.
Нарисувах ти хиляди пътища
през дванайсет различни вселени...
А сега се затварям в очите си.
По-далечна и по-неразбрана.
Тишината на струйки се стича
по света ти, във който ме няма.
Between the words I was just being born
On your face I was writing only with rain
I've embroidered a hundred Full Moons alone
on the lapel of Eternity - as long as a chain
Then I was waking the grass in your sleep
and the sky to the East was lightening slowly
a thousand roads I drew you- to run ,not to creep
going through twelve Universes, roaming
Now I'm locking myself into your eye
more distant than ever and more misunderstood
and the silence is streaming down from the sky
I am not in your world - Is it for good* ?