Wednesday, July 1, 2015

My translation of Mozgovoy's poem No. 19

It is now absolutely clear that Alexey Mozgovoy was not only a great Novorossiya commander and leader. He was and will also remain a poet. But he was not just a poet, he was and is also a prophetic poet. But it is now also absolutely clear that he was and thus will also remain a visionary and, as such, one of among the first founding fathers of Novorossiya. This third translation--third poem of his, which I coincidentally translated on the 40th day following his death (when, as they wise say, the soul passes from death's antechamber into the Eternal Light), confirms this:

How my time met Eternity’s part

My time has passed away
Into the deep river’s banks.
The black-eyed night and gypsy
Came and stole my golden stapes.

With three birches I got lost,
Without fear, without thought,
And so my time, that dream,
Is now where the endless starts.

There the universe keeps its heart
With my gypsy and her lasting night.
There the birches’ beauty cannot die.
Even the storm of May there plays a part.

Into the flowers, into the meadow grass,
I threw my body, burden, and so my time
Came on distant ferries where it ends,
And what is lost Eternity grasps.

Потерялось... мое время

Мозговой Алексей Борисович
В берегах реки глубокой,
Потерялось моё время.
Ночь, цыганкой черноокой,
Золотое прячет стремя. 

Заплутало в трёх берёзах,
Так наивно и беспечно.
Моё время где то в грёза ,
Там останется навечно. 

Посреди большой вселенной,
Ночь-цыганку обнимая.
С красотой берёз нетленной,
И с грозой, в начале мая... 

В луговых цветущих травах,
Суеты забросив бремя.
На далёких переправах,
Потерялось моё время...

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