Treasure Island

Lyudmila Purgina

(Russian Federation)

R.Rozhdestvensky, While I remember... - translation (rus.)


While I remember
by Robert Rozhdestvensky

A moon has rised up in the sky again,
The trolley buses are to go away.
And as the happy winds I feel,
That's - reminiscencies in window
Are knocking loudly.
The reminiscence of the old day,
When suddenly to me you came,
In rain so gayily smiling,
The coloured and delightful,
You - had come to me.

To houses my reminiscence swim,
The words of love,
The words of recognition.
The reminiscencies do live in me,
In real day or in my dream.
They are the spring warmth
or the dream so far,
They are - my aim
and my good luck,
My hope and my rescue start.
While I remember -
I do live!

The reminiscences look in my eyes,
The reminiscences are free of lie.
They are in core - my friends and law,
And the instructors also.
We had departed with you long ago,
In reminiscences you live for now,
In rain so gayly smiling,
So coloured and delighful,
You are again with me.

2.To houses my reminiscence swim,
The words of love,
The words of recognition.
The reminiscencies do live in me,
In real day or in my dream.
They are the spring warmth
or the dream so far,
They are - my aim
and my good luck,
My hope and my rescue start.
While I remember -
I do live!
===

The second variant with 'memoirs'

A moon in shining in the sky again,
From town the trolley-buses go away.
As happy winds are knocking
Into my window opened
My memoirs.
My memoirs about the old day,
When once you'd come to me forever, and
The rain was falling gayly,
So colourful and so weightless...
You - had come to me.

The memoirs are floating through town,
The words of love, the words of the heart's avowal.
The memoirs are living inside me,
Both in reality and in my dream.
They are - the warmth of spring time,
They are - my goal, my luck, then
My hope and escapement.
While I remember - I do live!

The memoirs are looking in my eyes,
You can't decieve your inner memoirs.
The are - in their base all:
My tutors and my lawers,
My friends, so old.
We'd parted with you long ago, but still
You live in memoirs, as if in real.
In rain, that falling gayly,
So colourful and weightless,
You - came and again.

The memoirs are floating through town,
The words of love, the words of the heart's avowal.
The memoirs are living inside me,
Both in reality and in my dream.
They are - the warmth of spring time,
They are - my goal, my luck, then
My hope and escapement.
While I remember - I do live!

Submitted: Saturday, February 04, 2012

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