Someone saw the fruit, that could not get ripe They shook the trunk - it fell, just so... Hereís the song of him who did not finish his song And that he had a voice - he did not know. Perhaps he was not on good terms with fate, And on bad terms with circumstance. And the tight string lay on a fret That was broken in single place. He started shyly with note C, But did not finish it, you see.. His music was incomplete; Did not make anyoneís soul rise.. The dog did bark, and the cat Was hunting mice. Itís funny! Funny, yes it is! It is... But he made jokes - they had no grace, He did not finish tasting wine, Did not even touch it to his face. While he started the argument Unhurried and uncertain, Just like, on forehead, drops of sweat, The soul did shimmer through the skin. He began the duel on the rug, Barely, barely he began. The judge did not open the score; And little he saw in the game. He sought to know all of it, But did not reach, did not... Not till the riddle, not the root, He did not dig until the deep, And her, that is still by herself, He did not finish loving! Itís funny! Funny, yes it is! It is. And he did hurry - all for none. And all that he did not resolve Was not resolved by anyone. Not with single word do I lie - He served the pure word, poetry. And he wrote poems on the snow - But snows do melt beneath the trees. But the snow was falling then And the freedom to write on the snow. And the big snowflakes and hail He touched with his lips as he ran, so. But her, the one in silver necklace He did not reach, not at his pace... Did not reach goal, the runner he, Not finished flight, it was in vain, And sign beneath which he was born Licked the cold Milky Way. Itís funny! Funny, yes it is! It is When seconds do not reach the light - The sound that does not reach the end - Unfinished flight, unfinished flight. Itís funny? Funny, well, itís so - Funny to you, even to me. The horse that jumps and bird that flies - And whose fault could it be?
© Ilya Shambat. Translation, ?