The nose grows
during the whole of one’s life.
(from scientific sources)
Yesterday my doctor told me:
“Clever you may be, however
Your snout is frozen.”
So don’t go out in the cold,
Nose!
On me, on you, on Capuchine monks,
According to well-known medical laws,
Relentless as clocks, without pause
Nose-trunks triumphantly grow.
During the night they grow
On every citizen, high or low,
On janitors, ministers, rich and poor,
Hooting endlessly like owls,
Chilly and out of kilter,
Brutally bashed by a boxer
Or foully crushed by a door,
And those of our feminine neighbors
Are foxily screwed like drills
Into many a key-hole.
Gogol, that mystical uneasy soul,
Intuitively sensed their role.
My good friend Buggins got drunk: in his dream
It seemed that, like a church-spire
Breaking through wash-bowls and chandeliers,
Piercing and waking startled ceilings,
Impaling each floor like
Receipts on a spike,
Higher and higher
rose
his nose
“What could that mean?”, he wondered next morning.
“A warning,” I said, “of Doomsday: it looks
As if they were going to check your books.”
On the 30th poor Buggins was haled off to jail.
Why, O Prime Mover of Noses, why
Do our noses grow longer, our lives shorter,
Why during the night should these fleshly lumps,
Like vampires or suction-pumps,
Drain us dry?
They report that Eskimos
Kiss with their nose.
Among us this has not caught on...
Ne znam ko je prevodio na srpski, ali prevod nije tako dobar. Ipak, evo ga, preuzet od Slobe sa "Neodinamike".
Balada-Disertacija
Nos raste tokom celog života
(iz naučnih izvora)
Juče je moj doktor rekao:
"Talenat je u vama, možda, i moguć,
ali vaš aparat za lemljenje je smrznut,
ne izlazite iz kuće kad je mraz."
O, nos!
Neminovno, kao sat,
na nama, na vama, na kaludjerima
po svim zakonima medicine
svečano rastu nosevi!
Oni rastu usred noći
na svim sugradjanima znamenitim,
na cuvarima, na zamenicima ministara,
mumlajući neispavano,
kao ćukovi,
oni su prohladni i nakrivi,
njih tuku bokseri,
pričepljuju vrata,
ali u ključaonicama, slično bušilici
zašrafljeni su nosevi komšinica!
(Njihovu ulogu sa mističnim nemirom
instinktivno je osećao Gogolj.)
Moj prijatelj Bukaškin
pijan je bio,
on je sanjao slično šiljku,
obarajući lustere i lavore,
probadajući probudjene tavanice,
nad njima je rastao nos,
kao hlebovi u pekari, nižući spratove!
"Zbog čega bi?" - nagadjao je on izjutra.
Rekao sam:
"Na strašni sud.
Na reviziju kreditnih poslova!"
30-og je Bukaškin uhapšen.
O večni pokretaču noseva!
Nosevi su sve duži
život je sve kraći.
Na bledim licima u noć,
kao jastreb ili šmrk,
sve nas isisava nos.
Priča se,
u Eskima postoji poljubac nosom...
Ali to se kod nas nije primilo...
A. Voznesenski, Anti Svetovi,