Анатолий Шарий
Реальний Київ | Украина
Лёха в Short’ах Long’ует
Мир сегодня с "Юрий Подоляка"
Труха⚡️Україна
Николаевский Ванёк
Инсайдер UA
Реальна Війна | Україна | Новини
Лачен пише
Анатолий Шарий
Реальний Київ | Украина
Лёха в Short’ах Long’ует
Мир сегодня с "Юрий Подоляка"
Труха⚡️Україна
Николаевский Ванёк
Инсайдер UA
Реальна Війна | Україна | Новини
Лачен пише
Анатолий Шарий
Реальний Київ | Украина
Лёха в Short’ах Long’ует
Translated, not mine
and just a little bit of mine.
Some Russian poetry of present days translated by Anna Strasse
Some Russian poetry of present days translated by Anna Strasse
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Channel creation dateMar 27, 2023
Added to TGlist
Oct 11, 2024Linked chat
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Records
15.03.202523:59
61Subscribers28.12.202423:59
300Citation index29.12.202422:12
445Average views per post22.01.202523:59
445Average views per ad post04.03.202521:49
75.00%ER22.01.202523:59
754.24%ERR10.05.202508:28
Интересно, а во время прослушивания Российского гимна во время парада и во время возложения цветов к Могиле Неизвестного Солдата лидеры бывших советских республик пели про себя "Союз Нерушимый...."? Ведь тем, кому за 50, только так и поется.
Батька, наверняка, пел...
Батька, наверняка, пел...
13.05.202508:43
Olga Belykh
The Thunderstorm
Water drips along the hand -
Condensation on the walls.
In the corner tight, like canned,
Soldiers rest till morning calls.
Curled inside the sleeping bags,
Like the bears in the den,
Sleep the fighters, back to back -
Tired, dirty, sullen men.
Silence broken. From the sky -
"Grad" fell over with the roar.
The dugout was thrown up high -
Right away to Heaven's door.
Silence covered all and all,
Fires gone, the air is calm.
Water dripping from the wall
To the lifeless, open palm.
https://t.me/zhena_desantnika/872
The Thunderstorm
Water drips along the hand -
Condensation on the walls.
In the corner tight, like canned,
Soldiers rest till morning calls.
Curled inside the sleeping bags,
Like the bears in the den,
Sleep the fighters, back to back -
Tired, dirty, sullen men.
Silence broken. From the sky -
"Grad" fell over with the roar.
The dugout was thrown up high -
Right away to Heaven's door.
Silence covered all and all,
Fires gone, the air is calm.
Water dripping from the wall
To the lifeless, open palm.
https://t.me/zhena_desantnika/872
13.05.202508:42
Olga Belykh
Grasshopper
Chirping loudly, the grasshopper
Crawls the grass on summer meadow.
In the outfit green, as proper,
Man lies still - if dead, you won't know.
Dandelions tightly flattened
To the earth by moveless figure.
The grasshopper is not frightened -
On the helmet lands with eager.
Hopped and froze the greenish "tourist",
Long antennae moving gently.
Up above the field and forest,
God is watching them intently.
The Almighty took out danger:
UAV with Death just moved on.
You'll be living, lucky soldier,
With grasshopper on the chevron.
https://t.me/zhena_desantnika/869
Grasshopper
Chirping loudly, the grasshopper
Crawls the grass on summer meadow.
In the outfit green, as proper,
Man lies still - if dead, you won't know.
Dandelions tightly flattened
To the earth by moveless figure.
The grasshopper is not frightened -
On the helmet lands with eager.
Hopped and froze the greenish "tourist",
Long antennae moving gently.
Up above the field and forest,
God is watching them intently.
The Almighty took out danger:
UAV with Death just moved on.
You'll be living, lucky soldier,
With grasshopper on the chevron.
https://t.me/zhena_desantnika/869
24.04.202508:46
Vadim Stepantsov
Donetsk. District "Vtoraya Ploshchadka" (the Second Square"). Year 2022.
Part two
Part one here
"Vtoraya Ploschadka" at spring - desolated and eerie.
The front is still rumbling, like seven or six years ago.
A grandma is carrying her laundry to dry, old and weary.
The same broken windows are staring at her - what a show!
- My greetings, kind ladies! So, HOW you've been living down here?
Remember a singer from Moscow? It's me, as you guessed.
- You hear it yourself - those banderas are shooting so near.
I made sweet compote and fresh aspic, try some, be my guest!
I called to my daughter, she's there, in Ukraine, and she told me,
that cannons and tanks stay between people's homes in a row.
And then the granddaughter took over the phone swearing boldly,
Called me "Russian shit", called me "killer" and wished me to blow.
- No way! Your own grandchild? And why was she angry, I wonder?
- As if you don't know! They've brainwashed kids and youth, made them blind.
She said, that her boyfriend was killed by the Russians, asunder...
Or, killed by the Ukries.... Who knows, what they have in the mind?..
- My son called me lately and swore like a dirty bricklayer,
Though never, in all of his life, has he said something bad.
He wants me to come to Zhitomir, away from "that slayer".
What slayer? The mayor himself brings us food, a nice lad.
The third of the ladies, the small one, inquired: "Son, tell us,
(As you are from Moscow, so you got to know of the war):
Might be, you should NOT have began all this fight, with that fellows?
We used to the bombings. We could have endured some more...
We've got electricity, gas, internet in the cell phone,
And soldiers are bringing us food, sometimes doctors come by.
We heard, Mariupol was razed to the ground, and the plant blown...
We pity for Kharkiv and Kiev. Tell us, don't be shy".
I DID NOT reply. I just vanished, dissolved in the air,
And grandmas got used to the visions and ghost in these years...
From Moscow I bow to the feet of those women out there,
For patience and strength, for the ever-forgiving hot tears.
For those sizzling words: "We could, son, have endured it much longer".
That's true. Although, Europe is tired of the Russians. Again.
They want to eraze us from our own land, panic-mongers,
As they have ALREADY erased Russian folk in Ukraine...
https://t.me/stepantsov_z/6927
Donetsk. District "Vtoraya Ploshchadka" (the Second Square"). Year 2022.
Part two
Part one here
"Vtoraya Ploschadka" at spring - desolated and eerie.
The front is still rumbling, like seven or six years ago.
A grandma is carrying her laundry to dry, old and weary.
The same broken windows are staring at her - what a show!
- My greetings, kind ladies! So, HOW you've been living down here?
Remember a singer from Moscow? It's me, as you guessed.
- You hear it yourself - those banderas are shooting so near.
I made sweet compote and fresh aspic, try some, be my guest!
I called to my daughter, she's there, in Ukraine, and she told me,
that cannons and tanks stay between people's homes in a row.
And then the granddaughter took over the phone swearing boldly,
Called me "Russian shit", called me "killer" and wished me to blow.
- No way! Your own grandchild? And why was she angry, I wonder?
- As if you don't know! They've brainwashed kids and youth, made them blind.
She said, that her boyfriend was killed by the Russians, asunder...
Or, killed by the Ukries.... Who knows, what they have in the mind?..
- My son called me lately and swore like a dirty bricklayer,
Though never, in all of his life, has he said something bad.
He wants me to come to Zhitomir, away from "that slayer".
What slayer? The mayor himself brings us food, a nice lad.
The third of the ladies, the small one, inquired: "Son, tell us,
(As you are from Moscow, so you got to know of the war):
Might be, you should NOT have began all this fight, with that fellows?
We used to the bombings. We could have endured some more...
We've got electricity, gas, internet in the cell phone,
And soldiers are bringing us food, sometimes doctors come by.
We heard, Mariupol was razed to the ground, and the plant blown...
We pity for Kharkiv and Kiev. Tell us, don't be shy".
I DID NOT reply. I just vanished, dissolved in the air,
And grandmas got used to the visions and ghost in these years...
From Moscow I bow to the feet of those women out there,
For patience and strength, for the ever-forgiving hot tears.
For those sizzling words: "We could, son, have endured it much longer".
That's true. Although, Europe is tired of the Russians. Again.
They want to eraze us from our own land, panic-mongers,
As they have ALREADY erased Russian folk in Ukraine...
https://t.me/stepantsov_z/6927
01.05.202505:41
Бабушка копает грядку для рассады,
На кусте смородины юный нежный лист.
Шелест леса глушит шум от автострады,
Майский дачный воздух сладок и душист.
Рядом, в телогрейке, маленькой лопатой
Роет яму в грунте лысый мужичок:
Тихо напевает незамысловатой
Песенки мотивы тонкий голосок.
Мужичок упитан, деловит, серьезен -
Глаз хозяйский зорко мерит огород.
Несмотря на возраст, труд всегда полезен:
Мужичку зимою минул третий год.
Из земли чуть влажной достаёт руками
Длинных, гладких, мягких дождевых червей.
Аккуратно в банку, устланную мхами
Он малощетинковым набирал друзей.
Медленно листочки лезут почему-то...
А плодов дождаться - столько не живут!
Посмотри же, баба, на природы чудо -
На ветвях смородины червячки растут!
2023.
На кусте смородины юный нежный лист.
Шелест леса глушит шум от автострады,
Майский дачный воздух сладок и душист.
Рядом, в телогрейке, маленькой лопатой
Роет яму в грунте лысый мужичок:
Тихо напевает незамысловатой
Песенки мотивы тонкий голосок.
Мужичок упитан, деловит, серьезен -
Глаз хозяйский зорко мерит огород.
Несмотря на возраст, труд всегда полезен:
Мужичку зимою минул третий год.
Из земли чуть влажной достаёт руками
Длинных, гладких, мягких дождевых червей.
Аккуратно в банку, устланную мхами
Он малощетинковым набирал друзей.
Медленно листочки лезут почему-то...
А плодов дождаться - столько не живут!
Посмотри же, баба, на природы чудо -
На ветвях смородины червячки растут!
2023.
17.04.202514:18
Neal Sornyakov
They seem motionless, frozen,
Hands move masterly, though.
Frontline surgeons are chosen
To be angels below.
Like not breathing, as warden,
Like the eyes fixed at length.
Seems - unbearable burden,
Seems - beyond human strength...
But it's human, it's earthy,
It's a job for a man:
Scalpel shows none of mercy,
Crashing Death's harvest plan,
Dragging out from the places,
that are rarely left.
Concentrated, firm faces -
Man-made miracle's heft.
They are not doing "plastic",
They are saving A LIFE!
Payment small, job is drastic -
This is all they derive.
Sculpting bodies is tricky,
Demiurge knows it fine.
Deadly tired and peaky,
Surgeons on the frontline.
https://t.me/nilsornyakov/679
They seem motionless, frozen,
Hands move masterly, though.
Frontline surgeons are chosen
To be angels below.
Like not breathing, as warden,
Like the eyes fixed at length.
Seems - unbearable burden,
Seems - beyond human strength...
But it's human, it's earthy,
It's a job for a man:
Scalpel shows none of mercy,
Crashing Death's harvest plan,
Dragging out from the places,
that are rarely left.
Concentrated, firm faces -
Man-made miracle's heft.
They are not doing "plastic",
They are saving A LIFE!
Payment small, job is drastic -
This is all they derive.
Sculpting bodies is tricky,
Demiurge knows it fine.
Deadly tired and peaky,
Surgeons on the frontline.
https://t.me/nilsornyakov/679
13.05.202508:42
Ольга Белых (aka Жена Десантника) поделилась двумя яркими стихотворениями. Сложность (для меня) в переводах была в построении строфы - 8888 слогов и 7777 слогов.
Как получилось - судить Вам.
КУЗНЕЧИК👆👆👆
ГРОЗА👇👇👇
Как получилось - судить Вам.
КУЗНЕЧИК👆👆👆
ГРОЗА👇👇👇
11.05.202515:56
Andrey Khalturin
The Flowers on Granite
(1985)
The flowers on granite... the flowers on granite,
The perished ones, dear, accept them - you've done it...
Please take them - you, mortally wounded and killed ones,
You, cast in black metal and bronze, fathers and sons...
Please, take them as gratitude from the descendants,
For what you have done in that history moment,
When, gritting your teeth - privates, sergeants, lieutenants -
You fought from your hearts, not expecting bestowment.
There won't be oblivion: people remember.
The heroes live ON in the heart of the nation.
Your self-sacrifice, struggle, endless endeavour --
Are honored by us - by the new generation.
The strong, gusty wind sways the flags -- harsh and loudly.
Descendants! Remember, who saved our planet!
The kids of victorious folk, bear it proudly!
The flowers on granite....
The flowers on granite...
https://t.me/KhalturinAG/486
The Flowers on Granite
(1985)
The flowers on granite... the flowers on granite,
The perished ones, dear, accept them - you've done it...
Please take them - you, mortally wounded and killed ones,
You, cast in black metal and bronze, fathers and sons...
Please, take them as gratitude from the descendants,
For what you have done in that history moment,
When, gritting your teeth - privates, sergeants, lieutenants -
You fought from your hearts, not expecting bestowment.
There won't be oblivion: people remember.
The heroes live ON in the heart of the nation.
Your self-sacrifice, struggle, endless endeavour --
Are honored by us - by the new generation.
The strong, gusty wind sways the flags -- harsh and loudly.
Descendants! Remember, who saved our planet!
The kids of victorious folk, bear it proudly!
The flowers on granite....
The flowers on granite...
https://t.me/KhalturinAG/486
06.05.202512:16
Принимаю заказы на стихотворный перевод с русского на английский.
Портфолио - мой ТГ канал.
Не ИИ.
Портфолио - мой ТГ канал.
Не ИИ.
05.05.202516:02
Oleg Prusakov
We Must Return Home!
(briefing)
You've come to the war. Now, bro, listen:
The family's waiting for you.
To come back alive after mission,
Just follow the rules, as I do.
Don't stand in the trench, keep yourself low,
Don't look like a rose in the pot.
The sniper's at work, and you don't know,
If you are his aim. Don't be caught.
Don't fuss in a battle, don't panic,
Use cold calculation and act.
Your powers, in fact, are titanic,
And Lucky Star keeps you intact.
Don't run from the mortar - it's useless:
Find anything: drench, hollow, pit.
The mortar is sneaky and ruthless,
Stay down during impact. Got it?
Don't touch anything that you don't know,
Don't kick any objects! Beware!
If you did not put it, amigo,
Don't take from the ground, don't you dare!
If you found a mine - holy dear!
Just run! No one will disapprove.
The sapper's old wisdom is clear:
"Not yours - not for you to remove!"
Don't touch, if you saw a tripwire,
Show others and help to alarm.
Step over, move forth and... respire -
Tripwires are hard to disarm.
If you need to piss, don't be foolish,
And piss from the roadside, it's safe.
Do care for your legs, don't be prudish,
Don't go into bush. Don't act "brave".
Look under your feet with your one eye,
(don't step on the leaf-looking mines),
The other should look at the high sky,
For drones and all worrisome signs.
Don't jump much around, like a dancer,
Near tank, if you aren't from the crew.
The driver is "blind" in the panzer -
Your fault, if he runs over you!
When on the attack, point the barrel
downside. If you stumble, the shot
goes into the ground, and the peril
to hurt your own man turns to naught.
Be stealth, looking out for the aiming,
And shoot, deviating aside.
The death here is real, it's not gaming:
Shoot once, change the place, move and hide.
Say "No" to the booze. I'm not joking.
Wrong place to get drunk, and wrong date.
Drunk men are bad soldiers, provoking...
No powers they have... Bad choice, mate.
Stupidity leads to a trouble,
Already has led to a strife...
At war, keep your brains working double,
Because you must come home. Alive.
https://t.me/o_prusakov/744
We Must Return Home!
(briefing)
You've come to the war. Now, bro, listen:
The family's waiting for you.
To come back alive after mission,
Just follow the rules, as I do.
Don't stand in the trench, keep yourself low,
Don't look like a rose in the pot.
The sniper's at work, and you don't know,
If you are his aim. Don't be caught.
Don't fuss in a battle, don't panic,
Use cold calculation and act.
Your powers, in fact, are titanic,
And Lucky Star keeps you intact.
Don't run from the mortar - it's useless:
Find anything: drench, hollow, pit.
The mortar is sneaky and ruthless,
Stay down during impact. Got it?
Don't touch anything that you don't know,
Don't kick any objects! Beware!
If you did not put it, amigo,
Don't take from the ground, don't you dare!
If you found a mine - holy dear!
Just run! No one will disapprove.
The sapper's old wisdom is clear:
"Not yours - not for you to remove!"
Don't touch, if you saw a tripwire,
Show others and help to alarm.
Step over, move forth and... respire -
Tripwires are hard to disarm.
If you need to piss, don't be foolish,
And piss from the roadside, it's safe.
Do care for your legs, don't be prudish,
Don't go into bush. Don't act "brave".
Look under your feet with your one eye,
(don't step on the leaf-looking mines),
The other should look at the high sky,
For drones and all worrisome signs.
Don't jump much around, like a dancer,
Near tank, if you aren't from the crew.
The driver is "blind" in the panzer -
Your fault, if he runs over you!
When on the attack, point the barrel
downside. If you stumble, the shot
goes into the ground, and the peril
to hurt your own man turns to naught.
Be stealth, looking out for the aiming,
And shoot, deviating aside.
The death here is real, it's not gaming:
Shoot once, change the place, move and hide.
Say "No" to the booze. I'm not joking.
Wrong place to get drunk, and wrong date.
Drunk men are bad soldiers, provoking...
No powers they have... Bad choice, mate.
Stupidity leads to a trouble,
Already has led to a strife...
At war, keep your brains working double,
Because you must come home. Alive.
https://t.me/o_prusakov/744
29.04.202509:26
Пообщалась с ИИ на тему перспектив поэтического перевода. Он меня "успокоил", что в ближайшие 3-5 лет у меня еще будет работа, но после этого срока - увы, ИИ будет лучше.
То же касается и прозаического перевода - год-два и человек будет не нужен.
А переводчики технического текста уже готовятся на выход с вещами.
И попробуйте после этого мотивировать детей в школе изучать иностранный язык.
То же касается и прозаического перевода - год-два и человек будет не нужен.
А переводчики технического текста уже готовятся на выход с вещами.
И попробуйте после этого мотивировать детей в школе изучать иностранный язык.
28.04.202519:50
Andrey Ledashev
Call sign "A Pioneer"
I take the aim. I trust my rifle like my limbs,
The derivation and the heat are kept in mind.
"A sniper" and "a steady hand" are synonyms:
You can't be clumsy if you've been assigned.
At shooting ranges I was trained exclusively,
And, in all modesty, I was among the best.
"A Pioneer" I was called allusively
For the results. The coaches were impressed.
Without hypocrisy, the enemy is prey.
I've got no soothing words for them. I've got a gun.
Congratulations on the Pioneer Day!
Click of the bolt.
The shot.
This one is done.
https://t.me/pozled/843
Call sign "A Pioneer"
I take the aim. I trust my rifle like my limbs,
The derivation and the heat are kept in mind.
"A sniper" and "a steady hand" are synonyms:
You can't be clumsy if you've been assigned.
At shooting ranges I was trained exclusively,
And, in all modesty, I was among the best.
"A Pioneer" I was called allusively
For the results. The coaches were impressed.
Without hypocrisy, the enemy is prey.
I've got no soothing words for them. I've got a gun.
Congratulations on the Pioneer Day!
Click of the bolt.
The shot.
This one is done.
https://t.me/pozled/843
14.04.202505:35
Смятенье чувств превозмогая,
Оргазм от строчек получая,
Писал он о войне.
На инфоповод не взирая,
Стихи потоком исторгая,
Старался плыть в волне.
Как все успеть? Событий море:
Свои, чужие, счастье, горе -
Все нужно описать!
Листая сводки в мониторе,
Копаясь в чуше, слухах, вздоре,
Поэт идет ваять!
Ведь коль не я, то кто расскажет?
Кто так искуссно мысль размажет,
Считая лайков сбор?
Кого-то строчка взбудоражит,
И вот уж композитор пашет -
Вот и готов хардкор!
"О, это хит! Слеза из глаза!
Наплакала четыре таза!"
Признание! Фурор!
Скорей, в запале от экстаза,
Не покидая унитаза,
Все пишет крючкотвор.
"О ЧЕМ писать - вопрос не главный,
Ведь я - художник вам не равный!
Могу я обо всем!
Вот мой канальчик телеграммный,
(О нет! Я вовсе не тщеславный!)
Сдонатить можно в нем!"
И каждый мнит себя поэтом.
Но коль тряхнешь авторитетом,
Укажешь, кто есть кто -
Получишь столько ты ответом,
И виртуальным табуретом
Отхватишь ни за что.
"Поэт",
Твои стихи настолько гАдки,
Пойдем со мной на штурм посадки?
"Арчи"
Оргазм от строчек получая,
Писал он о войне.
На инфоповод не взирая,
Стихи потоком исторгая,
Старался плыть в волне.
Как все успеть? Событий море:
Свои, чужие, счастье, горе -
Все нужно описать!
Листая сводки в мониторе,
Копаясь в чуше, слухах, вздоре,
Поэт идет ваять!
Ведь коль не я, то кто расскажет?
Кто так искуссно мысль размажет,
Считая лайков сбор?
Кого-то строчка взбудоражит,
И вот уж композитор пашет -
Вот и готов хардкор!
"О, это хит! Слеза из глаза!
Наплакала четыре таза!"
Признание! Фурор!
Скорей, в запале от экстаза,
Не покидая унитаза,
Все пишет крючкотвор.
"О ЧЕМ писать - вопрос не главный,
Ведь я - художник вам не равный!
Могу я обо всем!
Вот мой канальчик телеграммный,
(О нет! Я вовсе не тщеславный!)
Сдонатить можно в нем!"
И каждый мнит себя поэтом.
Но коль тряхнешь авторитетом,
Укажешь, кто есть кто -
Получишь столько ты ответом,
И виртуальным табуретом
Отхватишь ни за что.
"Поэт",
Твои стихи настолько гАдки,
Пойдем со мной на штурм посадки?
"Арчи"
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