zaterdag 22 december 2012

Osip Mandelstam - *

In Sunday marvel disbelieving
We walked through cemetary stones
The land as you well know
Reminds me of these hills at dawn
Where Russia tears itself free
Over a black and deafening sea.

From monastery mount
Meadow runs long and still.
I don't want to head south
From wilds of Vladimir.
But in this darkened, wooden
And ugly country rubble
To stay with a drunk nun
Means only trouble.

I kiss the suntanned elbow
And waxen forehead skin.
I know -- under tanned yellow -
It still is white and thin.
I kiss the place where bracelet
Has left a stripe of pale.
Taurida's flaming summer
Creates such miracle.

How soon did you grow tanner
And came to mass to bow
You kissed the cross forever
Grew proud in Moscow
To us remains but naming:
Until the end
Take from my palms forever
The holy sand.

(Ut: Tristia. Oersetting: Ilya Shambat)

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