Аллен Гинзберг в переводах Михаила Гунина

1997

ОРИГИНАЛЫ

An Asphodel

     O dear sweet rosy
          unattainable desire
    . .how sad, no way
          to change the mad
     cultivated asphodel, the
          visible reality. .
     and skin's appalling
          petals- how inspired
     to be so Iying in the living
          room drunk naked
     and dreaming, in the absence
          of electricity. .
     over and over eating the low root
          of the asphodel,
     gray fate. .
          rolling in generation
     on the flowery couch
          as on a bank in Arden —
     my only rose tonite's the treat
          of my own nudity.

Song

     The weight of the world
          is love.
     Under the burden
          of solitude,
     under the burden
          of dissatisfaction
          the weight,
     the weight we carry
          is love.
     Who can deny?
          In dreams
     it touches
          the body,
     in thought
          constructs
     a miracle,
          in imagination
     anguishes
          till born
     in human —
     looks out of the heart
          burning with purity —
     for the burden of life
          is love,
     but we carry the weight
          wearily,
     and so must rest
     in the arms of love
          at last,
     must rest in the arms
          of love.
     No rest
          without love,
     no sleep
          without dreams
     of love —
          be mad or chill
     obsessed with angels
          or machines,
     the final wish
          is love
     — cannot be bitter,
          cannot deny,
     cannot withhold
          if denied:
     the weight is too heavy
          — must give
     for no return
          as thought
     is given
          in solitude
     in all the excellence
          of its excess.
     The warm bodies
          shine together
     in the darkness,
          the hand moves
     to the center
          of the flesh,
     the skin trembles
          in happiness
     and the soul comes
          joyful to the eye —
     yes, yes,
          that's what
     I wanted,
          I always wanted,
     I always wanted,
          to return
     to the body
          where I was born.

Haiku