Every day a bouquet for Liza -
I will send it her every day.
All the others - traitors, betrayers,
Only I - the true source of games!
Every day a bouquet for Liza -
like the radiant Marc Chagall,
you don't wait for dull people -
all is in front of your eyes!
Orange flowers, angels,
changing blue spots, and white -
They are blinding your senses -
turn your suffers aside.
Every day a bouquet for Liza -
it comes from earth but reminds
its eternal salvation
as quiet spanish guitar,
Mother asked: would they ever - your angels
tell you something of mind,
something really clever?
They will never, my dear mom!
***
Каждый день - букетик для Лизы,
Я отправлю на каждый день.
Ведь предатели - все остальные.
Только Я - источник игр всех!
Каждый день - букетик для Лизы,
как блистательный Марк Шагал,
а от скучных людей - и не жди ты.
все ведь скрыто - в твоих глазах!
Цвет оранжевый, или ангел,
сменит белый и голубой,
чувства все притупит, ослепляя,
и все беды отгонит собой.
Каждый день - букетик для Лизы,
от земли, но напомнит он
о спасении вечном, как тихий
испанской гитары звон.
Мама спросит: когда твои ангелы
продиктуют тебе от ума,
что-то действительно важное?
Мама милая, - никогда!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is a paradaisal poem, that is, those elements of our mortal lives which seem to hover between ordinary reality and supernatural reality. Chagall paints visions as if they were ordinary and the ordinary becomes visionary, so that two planes of reality appear together and simultaneously. The bouquet is symbolic of this union of two realities, but it's also something spiritual. That's why your mother's request won't be fulfilled, at least not as she expects it. You express this notion in an image of the flower bouquel being of the earth but imbued with spirituality. Like Chagall, you have a double sight: both the earthly and the heavenly in the same moment.