С детства я интересовалась литературой, а в июле 2020 года закончила филологический факультет СПБГУ, что лишь укрепило мою любовь к книгам, а также выявило новый интерес – к вопросу переводных произведений. Ведь так часто мы читатем перевод, а создём мнение об авторе оригинала. Безусловно, столь подробное изучение литературы сподвигло меня на написание моих собственных произведений, которыми мне бы и хотелось поделиться.
I’ve always been interested in literature and in July 2020 I graduated from St Petersburg State University which only strengthened my passion for books and helped me discover another interest of mine – the problem of translating literature. Oftentimes, we read a translation and form our opinion about the author of the original, which should never be the case. Of course, spending so much time with books inspired me to create my own pieces of literature which I’d like to share with you.
Отрывок из стихотворение “You sent me flying”
Yet still we talk –
It seems so right;
But when you say
She’s on your mind,
I feel immediately punched
Right in my face
And let out bunch
Of wild noises –
That cry for help
Of inner voices.
I deem it weird.
Should not we stop?
For you it’s fine –
You’ve always thought
Me just a friend
That you find hot.
Yet I was silly
And believed your wicked lies
That thrilled me really.
Perhaps it wasn’t always so,
But then… How could you just let go?
So easily erase the past?
I knew it wasn’t meant to last.
Yet I remember just too well
Your smile, your eyes,
Your stupid jokes and boring cites –
Guess every word you’ve ever uttered,
Except for football –
The names and rules are in a clutter.
But then, instead,
I do remember
Our first call
Back in September.
I should have known
That being tender
Was just a trick
Of you, pretender.
I’m looking at my Amy’s lines
And awing how she devised
The lyrics relevant to me –
Something I thought I’d never see…
But you withdrew and went to her,
Just like she sang – no less no more.
You said you’ll always be alone;
An outsider – what you called.
These words were only meant for me.
But her…her you would like to see
Close to yourself in all the times –
That very thing was my demise:
Not that you love another now,
But that your words were always nought.
You used me to fill in the gap
When she was out and you lacked
The presence of a loving soul,
Someone to close that gaping hole.
I didn’t see it – it’s my fault,
And therefore, I shall now halt
That will for you be just a blissing.