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«Каменярі» Івана Франка
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I saw a vision strange. Stretched out before me lay A measureless but barren, open plain. And I, With iron chains on hands and feet, stood in array Before a granite mount which rose up, towering high, With other thousands — captives, fettered the same way. Deep lines of pain and grief were etched on every face, Yet in the eyes of all the flame of love still burned. The fetters clung to each with serpent-like embrace, And every back was bent, each face was downwards turned, For all seemed bowed beneath a burden of disgrace. A mighty iron sledge I saw in every hand, And sudden from the sky a voice like thunder burst: «Break through this rock! Let neither cold nor heat withstand Your toil! In spite of danger, hunger, cold, and thirst, Stay not, for yours it is to smash this granite band!» At this we all as one our sledges raised on high; A thousand thundering blows crashed down upon the rock. On every side we saw the shards of granite fly, The rock crack off in blocks. With ceaseless, desperate shock, We hammered on with strength that nothing could defy. Like roaring cataract or battle's bloody din, Our sledges kept on thudding with exhaustless might. New footholds every moment we never failed to win. Though many a one of us fell crippled in the fight, We onward pressed, for naught could shake our discipline. Yet each of us well knew he should no glory reap, Nor would man's memory requite our toilsome pain, That long before our seed along that road would sweep, Ere we could break a path and make it smooth and plain, Our bleaching bones would lie beside it in a heap. We had no thirst of glory in our hearts to slake, For we were neither knights nor heroes seeking fame. Mere slaves we were, but such as freely, gladly take Their bonds as self-made slaves in freedom's glorious name The pioneers who toil a new highway to break. And all held firm belief that by our strength unfurled We'd rend the prisoning rock, the granite wall defy; That by our mortal strength, though we to death were hurled, Yet after, with our bones, we'd pave a road whereby New life and hope might come into this sorry world. And every one knew too, that in the world we'd left Behind us for these chains and sweet and toil forlorn, Were mothers, sweethearts, weeping wives and little ones bereft, And friends and enemies, who, pitying or in scorn, Cursed us and our emprise and feared the dreadful cleft. We knew it and at times, bowed down in sore distress, Our hearts would almost fail as sweet remembrance came. Yet neither tears nor pity nor great weariness Nor curses ever made us falter in our aims — No sledge dropped from our hands beneath the awful stress. We march in close accord, for each the purpose owns To form a brotherhood, each with a sledge in hand. What though the world forgets, or even us disowns! We'll rend that prisoning rock, we'll pave a broad new strand! New life shall come to man, though it come o'er our bones! |
Переклад англійською мовою П. Канді. Вперше надруковано у збірці вибраних творів І. Я. Франка «Selected poems». Trans. with biographical introduction by P. Cundi. New York, 1948, с. 104—107.
Подається за першодруком.
Канді Персіваль (1881—1947) —канадський письменник-перекладач, популяризатор української літератури. Переклав низку творів Т. Г. Шевченка, Ю. А. Федьковича, І. Я. Франка, Лесі Українки, О. Ю. Кобилянської (див.: «Шевченківський словник у двох томах», т. 1. К., 1976, с. 275). Крім згаданої вище збірки творів І. Я. Франка, в перекладі П. Канді вийшла збірка творів української літератури «Voice from Ukraine» («Голос України»), Манітоба, 1932.
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