亚当·扎加耶夫斯基诗（Adam Zagaevskiy Poetry）.docVIP

亚当·扎加耶夫斯基诗（Adam Zagaevskiy Poetry） Twelve poems by Adam Zagaevskiy Huang Canran translation Introduction to mysticism Its warm and full of sunshine. The German on the terrace of the cafe There is a small book on his lap. I glimpsed the title of the book: Introduction to mysticism. All of a sudden, I see, those A sharp whistle in Montis Ciano Swallows patrolling the streets, And from Eastern Europe, that is, Central Europe Timid tourists talking in whispers, And standing in the paddy field -- yesterday? The day before yesterday? - A sister egret, And wiped out the silhouette of a medieval house A slow and systematic evening, And let the exposed to the weather. An olive tree on a small hill, And I took a closer look at Le Louvre Museum and admired it The head of the nameless prince, And the butterfly wings that flickered with pollen Stained glass windows, And practice speaking beside the highway Little nightingale, And any kind of trip, any kind of sightseeing, Its all about mysticism, Its a basic course. Its a game Deferred exam Prelude. Vermeers little girl Vermeers little girl, now very famous, She looked at me. A pearl looks at me. Vermeers girls lips Its red, wet and bright. The little girl ah ah Vermeer, pearl, Blue Hood: youre all lights And I did it by film. Light looks down upon the shadow, With tolerance, perhaps compassion. Self-portrait Between a computer, a pen and a typewriter, My half day has passed. One and a half centuries will be like this. I live in a strange city, sometimes with strangers Talking about something strange to me. I listen to a lot of music: Bach, Muller, Chopin, Shostakovich. I see three elements in music: weakness, strength, and pain. The fourth one has no name. I read poets, live and die, they teach me Firmness, faith and pride. I try to understand Great philosophers - but often only grasp They thought the precious fragments. I like taking long walks in the streets of Paris, To see my fellow men being jealous and angry And driven by