On a love
Again captivated...
Was the boy at once,
The love come and, felt a rose,
Has revealed the secret of her adat
And by once an adult she has made me.
On a crests of years not in an image of the goddess,
And the woman from a flesh and fire
She come to me until now
And transforms into the boy me.
A shyness, shamelessness in her and trembling,
Again I burn up, and so
The imagine do bow moulds
From the moonlight woman - a deity.
As a nonsense of commander, and time by time
The love was fraught by a danger,
But showed a courage of soldier,
Who done the reckless order.
It is always similar on a battle,
In which we are, so seem, by a destiny
Already are devoted on a lose,
And suddenly - oh a miracle! - have a won of fight!
It is always similar on a battle,
That have a believe, but
Suddenly a report arrives,
That it is absolutely losted.
And though a love did not avoid a pain,
It is at times, do not chafing a wounds,
It was sweet, as a dream under the burka in a field
In time a lulaby rain.
I have reached an age of mid borders
And, on anywhat do not closing an eyes,
I write a verses, as though to an last time,
And so I am beloved, as for the first time.
Has translated J.Kozlovsky
Rasul Gamzatov. Beads of years.
Central Committee VLKSM Publishing house 'Young Guards',1969.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem