Стихи и переводы В.В.Панькова
Kazakstan (a song, translated from Unknown)
Do you hear the voice of a wilderness steppe?
Let it help us to weave songs' and words' magic web.
And above withered grass eagle's cry is so weak,
Where marmot-sentinel guards his Marmot's Hill Peak.
And mirages will flow under dead-yellow sun
Up to trembling skyline in the moveless haze calm.
Of a sudden you feel in this primeval of World
You are foreign alien who's forgotten by Lord.
There are steppes, only steppes for a thousands of miles,
And a rustle of birchs is like dream that's so nice.
Just a tempest of dust, just a naked bare sun,
Just a voice's of steppe, just a voice's of steppe
* * * (translated from and by V.Pankov)
Trust me, my friend, the storm be idle,
It will be Earth-rise show ever,
And someone's face will be an idol,
Reviving love to life forever.
История таежной любви.
Рассказы о Командорах