Материал для конкурса чтецов, посвященного 70-летию Великой Победы

Скоро, скоро я домой поеду

Виктор Гончаров, 'Скоро, скоро я домой поеду', перевод на английский Алик Вагапов

'I'll be soon at home', Victor Goncharov, Translated by Alec Vagapov

I'll be soon at home. Such an excitement!

And the earth will circle outside once more

A restless fidget in the train compartment

Will begin to chat about the war.

Little girl will look in admiration

Wandering at rainbow of awards.

Outside, the poorly seen vibration

Of the dusk will flow along the roads.

I will not break off the conversation,

Nor shall I support the friendly chat

I shall make a pertinent suggestion

That we drink to victory like that.

Drink because directly I will visit

Home and little causeway to the mill,

Crumpled roof impaired by the blizzard

And my mother hurt by grievous thrill.

She is fragile, short and tumbledown,

Keeping count the days she has in store.

Nipped by bullets, I've been handed down

To my mother, by the bygone war.

Скоро, скоро я домой поеду,

И земля закружится в окне.

И в купе какой-то непоседа

Заведет беседу о войне.

Будет любоваться им девчонка,

Восхищаясь радугой наград.

Мимо окон будет литься тонкий,

Слабо обозначенный закат.

Я не стану прерывать беседу,

Но и разговор не поддержу.

Я своей соседке и соседу

За победу выпить предложу

И за то, что скоро я увижу

Небольшую мельничную гать,

Бурей покореженную крышу,

Бедами обиженную мать.

Низенькая, щуплая, без силы,

Жизнь свою высчитывает в днях.

Ей война, как сдачу, возвратила

Пулями побитого меня.

eng--rus.ru/verses/62-war-poetry-in-english/231-ill-be-soon-at-home-victor-goncharov

«Фото»

'Photo', Rimma Kazakova, Translated by Alec Vagapov

I see a photo on the pages

Of paper I was looking through

With soldiers looking like teenagers,

The heroes of World War II.

Four fellows standing by the mote

Were photographed before assault

The background was a lovely scene:

The sky was blue, the grass was green.

In fact, nobody knew them, really,

There is no book on them, no song.

There's here someone's dearie,

a student or the only son.

Their lives had only just begun

They fell in battlefield as one.

The background was a lovely scene:

The sky was blue, the grass was green.

That bitter year for all of us,

We'll bear in mind for all we're worth

All over Russia the memorials

Like human souls, rise from the earth.

They covered life with their endeavour -

... their life was bout to begin

So that the sky were blue as ever,

And grass might be as ever green.

На фотографии в газете

нечетко изображены

бойцы, еще почти что дети,

герои мировой войны.

Они снимались перед боем -

в обнимку, четверо у рва.

И было небо голубое,

была зеленая трава.

Никто не знает их фамилий,

о них ни песен нет, ни книг.

Здесь чей-то сын и чей-то милый

и чей-то первый ученик.

Они легли на поле боя,-

жить начинавшие едва.

И было небо голубое,

была зеленая трава.

Забыть тот горький год неблизкий

мы никогда бы не смогли.

По всей России обелиски,

как души, рвутся из земли.

...Они прикрыли жизнь собою,-

жить начинавшие едва,

чтоб было небо голубое,

была зеленая трава.

eng--rus.ru/verses/62-war-poetry-in-english/233-photo-rimma-kazakova

«Жди меня»

WAIT FOR ME

Wait for me, and I`ll be back.
Only you do wait!
When it`s raining night and day
So yellow and sad.
Wait for me when it is snowy,
Or in summer heat.
Wait even when the others don`t,
Hopeless to meet.
Wait when news from far away
You do not receive...
Go on waiting night and day
And in me believe!
Wait for me, and I`ll be back.
Don`t listen to
Those who say, no use to wait,
I won`t be back to you.
Let my mother and son resign
With the fact I died.
Let my friends sit by the fire,
Of their waiting tired.
Drinking a bottle of bitter wine
To pray for my poor soul...
Go on waiting and never join
Them also thinking so.
Wait for me, and I`ll be back
Through the deadly fire.
Those who did not wait may say,
So lucky I`m.
Can they ever understand,
That amidst the fire
Owing to your faithful waiting
Could I stay alive!
Only you and I will know
Why I have survived.
Just for you`d been waiting so,
As to save my life.

otvet.mail.ru/question/38655294

«Катюша»

Katyusha

• Apple-trees and pear-trees were a-blooming,
  Mists were floating on the river deep,
  And Katyusha's gone out in the gloaming,} twice
  On the river bank so high and deep

• She went out, and sang so sweet and clearly,
  Of the soft grey eagle of the steppes,
  Of the one, the lad she loves so dearly,} twice
  Of the one whose letters still she keeps.

• Song, oh maiden song above the water,
  Fly forward the sunset bright and fair,
  To the soldier on the distant border,
  Bring Katyusha's greetings on the air. } twice

• May he think of her, so young and lovely,
  May he hear her sing her song above,
  May he guard and keep his native country,} twice
  As Katyusha guards and keeps her love.

• Apple-trees and pear-trees were a-blooming,
  Mists were floating on the river deep,
  And Katyusha's gone out in the gloaming,} twice
  On the river bank so high and deep

«Землянка»

'Fire flickers in wood burning stove', Alexey Surkov, Translated by Alec Vagapov

Fire flickers in wood burning stove

Drops of tar look like somebody cries

The accordion sings song of love,

It's about your smile and your eyes.

In the fields under Moscow, the grass

Whispered calling your name in my ear

I would like you to hear for once

How my voice sounds and longs for you here..

You are currently far, far away.

Vast of snow is between you and me

It's not easy to reach you. No way.

Whereas death is as close as can be.

Sing, accordion, in spite of the storm,

Bring me happiness from up above.

In the chilly dugout it's warm

From my burning perpetual love.

Бьется в тесной печурке огонь,

На поленьях смола, как слеза,

И поет мне в землянке гармонь

Про улыбку твою и глаза.

Про тебя мне шептали кусты

В белоснежных полях под Москвой.

Я хочу, чтобы слышала ты,

Как тоскует мой голос живой.

Ты сейчас далеко-далеко.

Между нами снега и снега.

До тебя мне дойти нелегко,

А до смерти - четыре шага.

Пой, гармоника, вьюге назло,

Заплутавшее счастье зови.

Мне в холодной землянке тепло

От моей негасимой любви.

eng--rus.ru/verses/62-war-poetry-in-english/202-fire-flickers-in-wood-burning-stove-alexey-surkov