По своему образованию я – лингвист- переводчик и историк, но в саму профессию я окунулась с головой не так давно. Сейчас я нахожусь в творческом поиске своего жизненного пути, пытаясь объединить многие свои увлечения. Меня увлекает само творчество и литература через исследовательский взгляд, поэтому для меня так важны точки моего соприкосновения с миром художественной литературы и ее способами выражения личного через язык.
Hello. My name is Olga. I’m a linguist- interpreter and a historian. But I plunged in my profession not so long time ago. Right now I’ m in going on an endeavor of researches in creativity that’s why I’m so in love with the world of literature and all the expressing ways of “privacy”. In some way I’ve found the main interest in co-points of literature and my world in translation and its possibilities of perfection.
Перевод к повести «Человек в сиреневых очках»
The Man with lilac glasses.
This opus is not only about solitude but happiness, not living but also dying, about men and dreams…etc.
That was a really wonder – an April’s day full of sunshine that after long living poured rains with freezing north winds came in handy. All the nature revived as it was on start and suddenly got facing the summer and met it on a half-way. The verdure was reborn. The sap commence to run through arborous veins, leaf buds opened and the spring like in a tough-buttoned skirt and in extremely way had straightened its shoulders. The courtyard was lath fenced. The verge of a lieu, on its south part where was a little timber house was with a little nodded and crouched fence. On other side – right behind barn – there was one of important strategy also little asset with a diamond – shaped hole in a door. Only house’s shutters were blue and that harmed colour range. It was quiet.
Catty Timothy took a jump from bench, stretched out himself in a prancing way and yawned.
Then Tim ensconced himself on earth like in a chair, spread out its paw to get on every day’s duties but in a moment its attention was took off. It was the car that appeared from nowhere. The car turned into a yard, went on a bough and it crunched, then the engine was shutted off.
Tim raised up nose, perked up ears and was ready to run off in a scuttling. They were three: a man and young woman hugging a child. All the three slammed the doors in one bang that was the point for Tim to scoot on spin slides into the backyard.
-Look, Anny! – began the young woman – This is the house of your granddad.
– And he is as used to be, he’ll never be old, – told the man. Little Anny was hugging her mam at neck very strong and watched at the house.
The door opened and screeched. An old man stepped over the threshold and stood leaning on a stick. Winkles on his face doubled cause of much sun when he screwed up his eye and smiled to guests. He had a weskit on shoulders with two laces were to be used for closing by both sides of vest.
- Granddad!- that was the young woman’s exclaim. She run up and kissed him.
On his turn the old man hugged his granddaughter with hand that had nothing and screwed up his eyes even more stronger. Anny, a little child, sobbed, pursed her lips, jutted her lower lip out and then hid her face at mam’s chest. Anny was 18 months old: she didn’t speak but there’s so much that she caught on.
- Hello, Grand Antosh! – the man shook granddad’s hand – How are you?
- Yep, Me – good: living on… but you? – Antosh spoke in a slowly way with hard breathing.
- Good in a someway. Got your granddaughter to get acquaintance with you. – said Andrey in a little bit lower voice than ever.
- That’s good. Little dear, … be friends – and granny cocked an eye.
It was so long – seven years ago when July saw Antosh last time- they have not been met since her grandmother died.
They came in the house. There was the flavour that gave the feel of a getting closer culmination. In the corner there was an old heavy closet. On the wall under icons was a carpet. On the table near the window stood faded and a little bit yellow within wood frame but without glass the photo of a young woman whose shape had become loom and even melt into a background; only hair, eyes and lips were vivid.
Granny Antosh had been living here alone for seven years and four months. After the death of his wife Lyuba he began to keep silence more and more, counting the days and refusing any help: so many times Julia’s brother suggested to move to city – but Antosh had been denied joking: «That you have… the civilization and me , I have my habits, I need a WC in a garden».
Grownups were drinking tea with little ginger cakes at the only one table in house while Anny, feeling herself as it was used to be, was moving her grand’s high boots. This her new occupation seemed to be so necessary for her: when she put shoes down in a corner of the room, wagged a finger at them, then murmured something, took them and moved to the place she’d found.
The words didn’t go easily: short answers went briefly after general questions and that was followed by discomfort hanging in the air; Antosh felt himself a little abashed. And only little Anny wasn’t noticing this tension in the air and continue to do her little job.
- Without high boots… can’t go down to cellar. There’s water to knees.
- Yep, spring like autumn. Too much of rainfall: for a month like for year. Only now it becomes better – answered Andrey.
- Have you the same, too?
- Yes, like everywhere.
The pause stayed again. All of them tried to be saved looking at the child. And fortunately there was at what to look. The girl hadn’t yet attention for adults. Now she was sitting and playing through slapping – sometimes floor, sometimes-cheeks.
The minutes remained hovering in the air. Big people made more tea. Antosh wished to turn on TV to break this confusion but it didn’t go ok – only with green lines.
- Granny, now we’re living in a dormitory block at institute.
- That’s good, good.
- But we have only one kitchen on a floor.
- That’s now doesn’t matter… all will be in a good time.
A really deaf pause returned and the same probing looks were turned to Anny.
Everyone was like fish out of water. But at fact July remembered how close she was with her Granny in a childhood. She enjoyed being here and visiting her grans, moreover, her parents were for all of this during summer holidays. That was time her grandmother was alive. Everything differed from nowadays, so it seemed. Granny differed, house and her. Now it was pity for her to have nothing to speak with him. But obviously he-Antosh couldn’t because he forgot how to do it.
- Hey, my dear?… coming here – Antosh beckoned Anny with a hand.
Little girl was sitting motionless with wide opened eyes. Then she smiled and little for little stand closer to him.
Antosh took her and made her sitting on his knees. She noticed his laces and began to study through pulling in all the ways. Granddad watched at her so touchingly as he looked trough. He saw a future: she grows up, runs through a stubble field and the wind tries to grasp her by dress, by hair for letting her back, but she runs and runs on barefoot.
He saw: her siting under night sky with shining stars near the open fire and listening to an ancient legend, her heart is strong beating and suddenly she shudders of an unexpectable rustle. A young dark-haired man offers her his hand and both of them are swept away by their deep dance, hovering in the air. Then she reads something to their children before going to bed and kisses them before closing eyes. He, Antosh imagined how she comes to his grave and puts down one flower on it but their life, her with this young man, continues fulfilling of joy and peace. One invisible tear on his eyelash became weightier and fell on the floor. July couldn’t feel similar more and quietly cried hiding her face in hands. The clocks chimed seven.
- Well, we’ll go granny Antosh, thanks for tea.. – said Andrey.
Granddad, plunged in his thoughts, came out from this and nodded.
While they were getting he didn’t let go little Anny from his embrace. When they came out July said:
- Granny, please, let us make you going with us. In the city you can live with Igor’s family, they have their own flat now.
Granny smiled: «Dear, I’ve been living a lot»… and through hard breathing whispered to Anny: «Now it is your time».
They hugged and July took away Anny and put her in the car. Little Anny was watching at granddad through narrow car’s doorway as she understood. Antosh saw off her answering only by eyes.
Andrey hit a clap and chased cat Timmy who was laying on a hood without any more fear to this iron monster and enjoyed it. Andrey sat in the car, got behind the wheel, honked two times and got away.
An old Man was saying goodbye deeply silently in himself and then for a long time watched at the road – the only one full of emptiness. The evening began to sooth a boisterous spring in a frogs lullaby.