Искусствоед
Ingeborg Bachmann
When you rise from the dead,
when I rise from the dead,
no stone will lie before the gate,
no boat will rest on the sea.
Tomorrow the casks will roll
toward Sunday waves,
we come on anointed
soles to the shore, wash
the grapes and stamp
the harvest into wine,
tomorrow, on the shore.
When you rise from the dead,
when I rise from the dead,
the hangman will hang at the gate,
the hammer will sink into the sea.
from “Songs from an Island”
tr. by Mark Anderson
When you rise from the dead,
when I rise from the dead,
no stone will lie before the gate,
no boat will rest on the sea.
Tomorrow the casks will roll
toward Sunday waves,
we come on anointed
soles to the shore, wash
the grapes and stamp
the harvest into wine,
tomorrow, on the shore.
When you rise from the dead,
when I rise from the dead,
the hangman will hang at the gate,
the hammer will sink into the sea.
from “Songs from an Island”
tr. by Mark Anderson