пока здесь размещу, а дальше видно будет
Давно хотелось попробовать перевести стихи Али Хайтлиной, написанные после 24.02.22, но не решалась. А в последние дни... В общем, как-то так получилось, что не смогла не взяться и не проделать это хотя бы с одним. Выбрала одно из самых первых
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The fourth day
Got a person in me. Twenty-five is his age in weeks.
All these weeks I was both his bread and his bed, a mix.
He accepts me, and nowadays when I cry and scream
Say me what am I teaching him?
And a person
who's in the subway
just turned three days.
Doesn't know a light but knows the fires chase.
He is laid on the floor on a kerchief, and nearby
People crowd and eye.
And a person
who's in the bombshelter
just turned five.
But he's able be quiet the moments to hush arrive.
He has learned not to whine "my cartoon", "it's not tasty, mom".
Kiddies learn so quickly to come.
And the kremlin person -
don't care how old he is.
Where he's
the ground must open up beneath.
On that place
when the earth get my hope
to realize
not a single sprout will rise.
His saliva will sink to soap,
his blood to shit,
And his grave'll be written:
"He had it coming".
And so be it.
But the kiddies...
Let them be able to whine again.
That'll mean that the war is slain.
(выделила строку, где шесть ударных стоп, а не пять, и думаю, что с этим сделать)
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