Unfinished flight

Прерванный полет

Кто-то высмотрел плод, что неспел, неспел,

Потрусили за ствол - он упал, упал...

Вот вам песня о том, кто не спел, не спел,

И что голос имел - не узнал, не узнал.

Может, были с судьбой нелады, нелады,

И со случаем плохи дела, дела,

А тугая струна на лады, на лады

С незаметным изъяном легла.

Он начал робко - с ноты "до",

Но не допел ее не до...

Недозвучал его аккорд, аккорд

И никого не вдохновил...

Собака лаяла, а кот

Мышей ловил...

Смешно! Не правда ли, смешно! Смешно!

А он шутил - недошутил,

Недораспробовал вино

И даже недопригубил.

Он пока лишь затеивал спор,

спор Неуверенно и не спеша,

Словно капельки пота из пор,

Из-под кожи сочилась душа.

Только начал дуэль на ковре,

Еле-еле, едва приступил.

Лишь чуть-чуть осмотрелся в игре,

И судья еще счет не открыл.

Он хотел знать все от и до,

Но не добрался он, не до...

Ни до догадки, ни до дна,

Не докопался до глубин,

И ту, которая одна,

Не долюбил, не долюбил!

Смешно, не правда ли, смешно?

А он спешил - недоспешил.

Осталось недорешено,

Все то, что он недорешил.

Ни единою буквой не лгу –

Он был чистого слога слуга,

И писал ей стихи на снегу,-

К сожалению, тают снега.

Но тогда еще был снегопад

И свобода писать на снегу.

И большие снежинки и град

Он губами хватал на бегу.

Но к ней в серебряном ландо

Он не добрался и не до...

Не добежал, бегун-беглец,

Не долетел, не доскакал,

А звездный знак его - Телец –

Холодный Млечный Путь лакал.

Смешно, не правда ли, смешно,

Когда секунд недостает,-

Недостающее звено –

И недолет, и недолет.

Смешно, не правда ли? Ну, вот,-

И вам смешно, и даже мне.

Конь на скаку и птица влет,-

По чьей вине, по чьей вине?

1973

Unfinished flight

Someone spotted a fruit, still unripe,

Shook the branch and it fell with some noise…

There’s one who did not sing a line,

And was left unaware of his voice.

Perhaps, he had conflicts with fate,

And by chance, his plans went amiss,

But the guitar string had already been laid

And its flaw was unknowingly missed.

He started humbly with a “do”,

But never finished that one note…

His first accord fell much too flat

And left nobody mesmerized…

A dog was barking, and a cat

Was chasing mice…

It’s funny! He was all entwined!

He left his joke half-way complete,

He did not fully taste his wine,

He did not fully take a sip.

He started quarreling and yet,

He was timid and slow to begin,

And his soul, in large droplets of sweat,

Still perspired from under his skin.

He was only just starting his duel,

He walked slowly onto the floor.

He was not yet aware of the rules,

And the ref hadn’t opened the score.

He yearned to know so much at once,

And yet, he never quite advanced…

And no conclusion could be drawn,

He never traveled deep enough,

And her, the one who’s still alone,

He lacked a chance to fully love!

It’s funny! He was on a roll,

He hurried, ran, but all in vain.

And riddles that he hadn’t solved

Unsolved remained.

What I’m telling you now aren’t lies -

He was pure to the style he held,

On the snow, he was writing her rhymes, -

But of course, every snow has to melt.

But it was snowing that day, and at least,

He was free to write on the snow.

On the run, he would catch with his lips

Crystal flakes in their brilliant glow.

But to her, in a silver-gilt surrey,

He never made it all the way…

He had no time to sprint nor fly,

He never ran, the runaway,

His star-sign - Taurus - from up high,

Just lapped the ice-cold Milky Way.

It’s very funny, don’t you think?

Not having seconds, time was tight, -

And from a single missing link -

Unfinished flight, unfinished flight.

Seemed funny, didn’t it? Of course,

To you and I, it surely did.

A flying bird, a racing horse, -

Whose fault is it? Whose fault is it?

1973