#NeuralNetwork #лирика #перевод

Ну и еще. ИМХО, оч сильное стихотворение для аудитории стихиру по крайней мере.
Тут 2 варианта получилось, достаточно разных.

There lies a place forgotten and bereft,
Turn back and you shall be forever left.
A darkness reigns no light can pierce,
Where snow and dust in one merge is.

Children's things are carried down,
With none remaining to give or crown.
Pencil and paper are taken away,
In a desolation that chills the day.

If movements stir there, they're not ours,
For ours have long slept in dreamless hours.
The hare and bicycle gone without trace,
Grandparents and dog in no one's embrace.

The lights turned out though you're not there,
Yet you stand and stare into the bare.
Not e'en a moth can find succor,
Some taken by time, dreams others more.

"The one squatting by the wall there's mine,"
"You only imagine, there is no line."

===

There's nothing there, turn 'round and you're gone,
Darkness so deep, you can't see the snow on the lawn.
Children's things taken, when no one's left to care,
All that's left is emptiness, a wasteland so bare.

They've taken the paper and the pencil too,
It's such a barren place, it's all they could do.
If there's movement, it's not us, we're sound asleep,
Our inner selves are buried deep.

The hare, the bicycle, the dogs, and the folk,
They took them all, even the light, it's no joke.
Even you're not there, but still you stare,
Into that darkness, with a blank, vacant stare.

There's nothing there, not even a moth to feed,
Time took someone away, and others into dreams indeed.
"That one by the wall, crouching - that's mine,"
"You must be imagining things, there's no wall to define."

===

Там нет ничего, обернёшься – и ты пропал.
Там темень такая, что снега не различить.
И детские вещи оттуда несут в подвал,
когда уже больше некому передарить.
Уже отобрали бумагу и карандаш,
и пустошь уже такая, что не смотри,
и если кто шевельнётся, так то не наш,
а наши давно уснули у нас внутри.
И зайца забрали уже, и велосипед,
и бабку, и дедку, и всех четырёх собак,
и свет погасили, и даже тебя там нет.
А ты всё стоишь и пялишься в этот мрак.
Там нет ничего, и не выкормить даже моль.
Кого-то прибрало время, кого-то сны…
— Вон тот, у стены, на корточках – это мой.
— Тебе показалось, там нет никакой стены.

© Елена Касьян https://stihi.ru/2011/07/25/4974