пьет, как храмовник, ругается тоже, а в остальном они вовсе непохожи ©
Вот этого: www.diary.ru/~Nior/p44884620.htm
Да, кажется, в английском тексте я сказал вслух и напрямую чуть больше, чем в русском.
*
Being in pain, I’m painting mountain peaks,
Like swords so sharp and daring carvig skyes.
Their tops are steel-like sharp and steel-like cold,
And steel-like ruthless are these mountain tops.
You hardly know, what’s like mountain winds
Are looking. Icy-cold, with icy clank,
With icy howling…
But no word about this.
Being in pain, I’m painting mountain peaks,
So white, like snow, like moon-lightened ice, -
Or black, like darkness, like the gates of hell?
But no word about this.
I’d promised
To paint you something I’d ever like?
I’d remembered – another mountain tops…
How do you think – could I paint it for you
Without pain?
Да, кажется, в английском тексте я сказал вслух и напрямую чуть больше, чем в русском.
*
Being in pain, I’m painting mountain peaks,
Like swords so sharp and daring carvig skyes.
Their tops are steel-like sharp and steel-like cold,
And steel-like ruthless are these mountain tops.
You hardly know, what’s like mountain winds
Are looking. Icy-cold, with icy clank,
With icy howling…
But no word about this.
Being in pain, I’m painting mountain peaks,
So white, like snow, like moon-lightened ice, -
Or black, like darkness, like the gates of hell?
But no word about this.
I’d promised
To paint you something I’d ever like?
I’d remembered – another mountain tops…
How do you think – could I paint it for you
Without pain?
Да, я маньяк, я сдаю английский переводами на язык, а не с языка...
*Снял шляпу
и съел*