Этот старик находился в доме престарелых последние дни своей жизни.
После смерти, все считали, что он ушел из жизни не оставив в ней ценного следа.
Когда медсестры начали разбирать его скудные пожитки, наткнулись на интересное стихотворение, которое поразило работников своим содержанием и смыслом.
Одна из сотрудниц взяла копию в Мельбурн.
C тех пор, его стихотворение появилось в в Рождественских журналах по всей стране, а также в журналах для психологов.
И этот старик, который нищим ушел из жизни в Богом забытом городке в Австралии, теперь взрывает интернет глубиной своей души. (Приводим дословный перевод на русский. В английском оригинале стих звучит очень поэтично и поражает глубиной мысли и красотой рифмы).
КАПРИЗНЫЙ СТАРИК
Что ты видишь медсестра? Что ты видишь?
Что ты думаешь, когда смотришь на меня?
Капризный старик, глуповат…
С непонятными укладом жизни, с отсутствующими глазами?
Переводящий попусту еду?
Когда ты кричишь "Давай старайся!"
И кажется тебе, что он не замечает, что ты делаешь.
Вечно теряющий носки или туфли?
Ни на чем не настаивающий,
но позволяющий тебе делать с ним все что угодно?
День которого нечем заполнить,
кроме как купанием и кормлением?
Вот что ты думаешь? Это ты видишь? Открой глаза, медсестра. Ты не смотришь на меня. Я скажу тебе, кто я.
Даже сидя здесь тихо,
подчиняясь вашему распределению,
питаясь по вашему желанию.
Я все еще мальчик десятилетний, живущий с отцом и матерью,
Братьями и сестрами и мы все любим друг друга.
Молодой юноша шестнадцати лет, с крыльями на ногах
Мечтающий встретить любовь свой жизни на днях.
Жених, которому скоро 20 и у которого выпрыгивает сердце,
Помнящий клятвы, которые обещал исполнить.
А сейчас мне двадцать пять и у меня есть свой малыш.
Который нуждается в моем руководстве, охране и доме.
Человек, которому тридцать! Мой малыш быстро вырос,
Мы связаны друг с другом нерушимыми узами.
А в сорок мои сыновья выросли и покинули дом.
Но моя женщина рядом со мной и она не дает мне горевать.
И вот в пятьдесят снова малыши играют у моих ног,
Опять мы с детьми, моя любимая и я.
Темнота сгустилась надо мной – моя жена мертва.
Я смотрю в будущее и вздрагиваю от ужаса.
Теперь я живу ради детей и ради их детей.
И я думаю о годах... о любви, которая у меня была.
Теперь я старик… и жизнь жестокая вещь.
Издеваясь, заставляет старость выглядеть глупо.
Тело дряхлеет и разваливается, величие и сила уходят.
И теперь на том месте камень, где однажды было сердце.
Но внутри этой дряхлой оболочки все еще живет молодой человек,
И снова и снова сердце от стуков пульсирует
Я помню всю радость, я помню всю боль.
И я люблю и живу! В этой жизни как прежде.
Я думаю о годах, которых было так мало
и которые пролетели так быстро.
И я соглашаюсь с упрямым фактом,
что ничто не может продолжаться вечно.
Так откройте глаза ваши, люди!
Откройте и посмотрите. Не капризный старик!
Посмотрите внимательней и увидите МЕНЯ!
Оригинал стихотворения
Cranky Old Man
What do you see nurses? . . . . . .What do you see?
What are you thinking . . . when you're looking at me?
A cranky old man, . . . . . .not very wise,
Uncertain of habit . . . . . . . . . . with faraway eyes?
Who dribbles his food . . . ... . . and makes no reply.
When you say in a loud voice . .'I do wish you'd try!'
Who seems not to notice . . .the things that you do.
And forever is losing . . . . . . . . . A sock or shoe?
Who, resisting or not . . . . . . lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding . . . .The long day to fill?
Is that what you're thinking?. .Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse. . you're not looking at me.
I'll tell you who I am . . . . .. As I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding, . . . . . as I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of Ten . .with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters . . . . . . . who love one another
A young boy of Sixteen . . . .. with wings on his feet
Dreaming that soon now . . .. . . a lover he'll meet.
A groom soon at Twenty . . . ..my heart gives a leap.
Remembering, the vows . . . . .that I promised to keep.
At Twenty-Five, now . . . . .I have young of my own.
Who need me to guide . . . And a secure happy home.
A man of Thirty . . . . . . . My young now grown fast,
Bound to each other . . .. With ties that should last.
At Forty, my young sons .. .have grown and are gone,
But my woman is beside me . . to see I don't mourn.
At Fifty, once more, . . . . .Babies play 'round my knee,
Again, we know children . . . . My loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me . . . . My wife is now dead.
I look at the future . . . . . . . I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing .. . . young of their own.
And I think of the years . . . And the love that I've known.
I'm now an old man . . . . . . .. and nature is cruel.
It's jest to make old age . . . . . . . look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles . . .. . grace and vigour, depart.
There is now a stone . . . where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass . A young man still dwells,
And now and again . . . . . my battered heart swells
I remember the joys . . . . . . . I remember the pain.
And I'm loving and living . . . . . . . life over again.
I think of the years, all too few . . .. gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact . . . that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people . . . . . . . . . open and see.
Not a cranky old man. . .
Look closer. . . . see. . . . . ME!!
После смерти, все считали, что он ушел из жизни не оставив в ней ценного следа.
Когда медсестры начали разбирать его скудные пожитки, наткнулись на интересное стихотворение, которое поразило работников своим содержанием и смыслом.
Одна из сотрудниц взяла копию в Мельбурн.
C тех пор, его стихотворение появилось в в Рождественских журналах по всей стране, а также в журналах для психологов.
И этот старик, который нищим ушел из жизни в Богом забытом городке в Австралии, теперь взрывает интернет глубиной своей души. (Приводим дословный перевод на русский. В английском оригинале стих звучит очень поэтично и поражает глубиной мысли и красотой рифмы).
КАПРИЗНЫЙ СТАРИК
Что ты видишь медсестра? Что ты видишь?
Что ты думаешь, когда смотришь на меня?
Капризный старик, глуповат…
С непонятными укладом жизни, с отсутствующими глазами?
Переводящий попусту еду?
Когда ты кричишь "Давай старайся!"
И кажется тебе, что он не замечает, что ты делаешь.
Вечно теряющий носки или туфли?
Ни на чем не настаивающий,
но позволяющий тебе делать с ним все что угодно?
День которого нечем заполнить,
кроме как купанием и кормлением?
Вот что ты думаешь? Это ты видишь? Открой глаза, медсестра. Ты не смотришь на меня. Я скажу тебе, кто я.
Даже сидя здесь тихо,
подчиняясь вашему распределению,
питаясь по вашему желанию.
Я все еще мальчик десятилетний, живущий с отцом и матерью,
Братьями и сестрами и мы все любим друг друга.
Молодой юноша шестнадцати лет, с крыльями на ногах
Мечтающий встретить любовь свой жизни на днях.
Жених, которому скоро 20 и у которого выпрыгивает сердце,
Помнящий клятвы, которые обещал исполнить.
А сейчас мне двадцать пять и у меня есть свой малыш.
Который нуждается в моем руководстве, охране и доме.
Человек, которому тридцать! Мой малыш быстро вырос,
Мы связаны друг с другом нерушимыми узами.
А в сорок мои сыновья выросли и покинули дом.
Но моя женщина рядом со мной и она не дает мне горевать.
И вот в пятьдесят снова малыши играют у моих ног,
Опять мы с детьми, моя любимая и я.
Темнота сгустилась надо мной – моя жена мертва.
Я смотрю в будущее и вздрагиваю от ужаса.
Теперь я живу ради детей и ради их детей.
И я думаю о годах... о любви, которая у меня была.
Теперь я старик… и жизнь жестокая вещь.
Издеваясь, заставляет старость выглядеть глупо.
Тело дряхлеет и разваливается, величие и сила уходят.
И теперь на том месте камень, где однажды было сердце.
Но внутри этой дряхлой оболочки все еще живет молодой человек,
И снова и снова сердце от стуков пульсирует
Я помню всю радость, я помню всю боль.
И я люблю и живу! В этой жизни как прежде.
Я думаю о годах, которых было так мало
и которые пролетели так быстро.
И я соглашаюсь с упрямым фактом,
что ничто не может продолжаться вечно.
Так откройте глаза ваши, люди!
Откройте и посмотрите. Не капризный старик!
Посмотрите внимательней и увидите МЕНЯ!
Оригинал стихотворения
Cranky Old Man
What do you see nurses? . . . . . .What do you see?
What are you thinking . . . when you're looking at me?
A cranky old man, . . . . . .not very wise,
Uncertain of habit . . . . . . . . . . with faraway eyes?
Who dribbles his food . . . ... . . and makes no reply.
When you say in a loud voice . .'I do wish you'd try!'
Who seems not to notice . . .the things that you do.
And forever is losing . . . . . . . . . A sock or shoe?
Who, resisting or not . . . . . . lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding . . . .The long day to fill?
Is that what you're thinking?. .Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse. . you're not looking at me.
I'll tell you who I am . . . . .. As I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding, . . . . . as I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of Ten . .with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters . . . . . . . who love one another
A young boy of Sixteen . . . .. with wings on his feet
Dreaming that soon now . . .. . . a lover he'll meet.
A groom soon at Twenty . . . ..my heart gives a leap.
Remembering, the vows . . . . .that I promised to keep.
At Twenty-Five, now . . . . .I have young of my own.
Who need me to guide . . . And a secure happy home.
A man of Thirty . . . . . . . My young now grown fast,
Bound to each other . . .. With ties that should last.
At Forty, my young sons .. .have grown and are gone,
But my woman is beside me . . to see I don't mourn.
At Fifty, once more, . . . . .Babies play 'round my knee,
Again, we know children . . . . My loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me . . . . My wife is now dead.
I look at the future . . . . . . . I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing .. . . young of their own.
And I think of the years . . . And the love that I've known.
I'm now an old man . . . . . . .. and nature is cruel.
It's jest to make old age . . . . . . . look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles . . .. . grace and vigour, depart.
There is now a stone . . . where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass . A young man still dwells,
And now and again . . . . . my battered heart swells
I remember the joys . . . . . . . I remember the pain.
And I'm loving and living . . . . . . . life over again.
I think of the years, all too few . . .. gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact . . . that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people . . . . . . . . . open and see.
Not a cranky old man. . .
Look closer. . . . see. . . . . ME!!
This old man was in the nursing home the last days of his life.
After death, everyone believed that he passed away without leaving a valuable trace in her.
When the nurses began to disassemble his meager belongings, they came across an interesting poem that struck the workers with its content and meaning.
One of the employees took a copy in Melbourne.
Since then, his poem has appeared in Christmas magazines throughout the country, as well as in magazines for psychologists.
And this old man, who died a beggar in a God-forgotten town in Australia, is now blowing up the Internet with the depths of his soul. (We give a literal translation into Russian. In the English original, the verse sounds very poetic and impresses with the depth of thought and the beauty of rhyme).
Capricious Old Man
What do you see a nurse? What do you see?
What do you think when you look at me?
Moody old man, stupid ...
With incomprehensible way of life, with missing eyes?
Wasting food?
When you scream "Let's try hard!"
And it seems to you that he does not notice what you are doing.
Forever losing socks or shoes?
Not insisting on anything
but letting you do anything with him?
Whose day there’s nothing to fill
other than bathing and feeding?
What do you think? Do you see this? Open your eyes, nurse. You are not looking at me. I will tell you who I am.
Even sitting here quietly
obeying your distribution
eating according to your desire.
I'm still a ten year old boy living with father and mother,
Brothers and sisters and we all love each other.
A young man of sixteen years old, with wings on his feet
Dreaming to meet his love of life the other day.
A bridegroom who is soon 20 and whose heart is jumping out
Remembering the vows that he promised to fulfill.
Now I’m twenty-five and I have my own baby.
Which needs my guidance, security and home.
A man who is thirty! My baby grew up fast
We are bound together by unbreakable bonds.
And at forty my sons grew up and left the house.
But my woman is next to me and she does not let me grieve.
And at fifty again, the kids play at my feet,
Again, my children and I, my beloved.
Darkness thickened over me - my wife is dead.
I look to the future and tremble with terror.
Now I live for the sake of children and for the sake of their children.
And I think about the years ... about the love that I had.
Now I'm an old man ... and life is a cruel thing.
Mocking makes old age look stupid.
The body is decrepit and falling apart, greatness and strength go.
And now in that place is a stone where once there was a heart.
But inside this decrepit shell a young man still lives,
And again and again, the heart throbbing
I remember all the joy, I remember all the pain.
And I love and live! In this life as before.
I think of years that were so few
and that flew so fast.
And I agree with the stubborn fact
that nothing can go on forever.
So open your eyes, people!
Open and take a look. Not a moody old man!
Take a closer look and see ME!
Original poem
Cranky old man
What do you see nurses? . . . . . .What do you see?
What are you thinking. . . when you're looking at me?
A cranky old man,. . . . . .not very wise,
Uncertain of habit. . . . . . . . . . with faraway eyes?
Who dribbles his food. . . ... . and makes no reply.
When you say in a loud voice. .'I do wish you'd try! '
Who seems not to notice. . .the things that you do.
And forever is losing. . . . . . . . . A sock or shoe?
Who, resisting or not. . . . . . lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding. . . .The long day to fill?
Is that what you're thinking ?. .Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse. . you're not looking at me.
I'll tell you who I am. . . . .. As I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding,. . . . . as I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of Ten. .with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters. . . . . . . who love one another
A young boy of Sixteen. . . .. with wings on his feet
Dreaming that soon now. . .. . a lover he'll meet.
A groom soon at Twenty. . . ..my heart gives a leap.
Remembering, the vows. . . . .that I promised to keep.
At Twenty-Five, now. . . . .I have young of my own.
Who need me to guide. . . And a secure happy home.
A man of Thirty. . . . . . . My young now grown fast,
Bound to each other. . .. With ties that should last.
At Forty, my young sons .. .have grown and are gone,
But my woman is beside me. . to see I don't mourn.
At Fifty, once more,. . . . .Babies play 'round my knee,
Again, we know children. . . . My loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me. . . . My wife is now dead.
I look at the future. . . . . . . I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing ... . young of their own.
And I think of the years. . . And the love that I've known.
I'm now an old man. . . . . . .. and nature is cruel.
It's jest to make old age. . . . . . . look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles. . .. grace and vigour, depart.
There is now a stone. . . where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass. A young man still dwells,
An
After death, everyone believed that he passed away without leaving a valuable trace in her.
When the nurses began to disassemble his meager belongings, they came across an interesting poem that struck the workers with its content and meaning.
One of the employees took a copy in Melbourne.
Since then, his poem has appeared in Christmas magazines throughout the country, as well as in magazines for psychologists.
And this old man, who died a beggar in a God-forgotten town in Australia, is now blowing up the Internet with the depths of his soul. (We give a literal translation into Russian. In the English original, the verse sounds very poetic and impresses with the depth of thought and the beauty of rhyme).
Capricious Old Man
What do you see a nurse? What do you see?
What do you think when you look at me?
Moody old man, stupid ...
With incomprehensible way of life, with missing eyes?
Wasting food?
When you scream "Let's try hard!"
And it seems to you that he does not notice what you are doing.
Forever losing socks or shoes?
Not insisting on anything
but letting you do anything with him?
Whose day there’s nothing to fill
other than bathing and feeding?
What do you think? Do you see this? Open your eyes, nurse. You are not looking at me. I will tell you who I am.
Even sitting here quietly
obeying your distribution
eating according to your desire.
I'm still a ten year old boy living with father and mother,
Brothers and sisters and we all love each other.
A young man of sixteen years old, with wings on his feet
Dreaming to meet his love of life the other day.
A bridegroom who is soon 20 and whose heart is jumping out
Remembering the vows that he promised to fulfill.
Now I’m twenty-five and I have my own baby.
Which needs my guidance, security and home.
A man who is thirty! My baby grew up fast
We are bound together by unbreakable bonds.
And at forty my sons grew up and left the house.
But my woman is next to me and she does not let me grieve.
And at fifty again, the kids play at my feet,
Again, my children and I, my beloved.
Darkness thickened over me - my wife is dead.
I look to the future and tremble with terror.
Now I live for the sake of children and for the sake of their children.
And I think about the years ... about the love that I had.
Now I'm an old man ... and life is a cruel thing.
Mocking makes old age look stupid.
The body is decrepit and falling apart, greatness and strength go.
And now in that place is a stone where once there was a heart.
But inside this decrepit shell a young man still lives,
And again and again, the heart throbbing
I remember all the joy, I remember all the pain.
And I love and live! In this life as before.
I think of years that were so few
and that flew so fast.
And I agree with the stubborn fact
that nothing can go on forever.
So open your eyes, people!
Open and take a look. Not a moody old man!
Take a closer look and see ME!
Original poem
Cranky old man
What do you see nurses? . . . . . .What do you see?
What are you thinking. . . when you're looking at me?
A cranky old man,. . . . . .not very wise,
Uncertain of habit. . . . . . . . . . with faraway eyes?
Who dribbles his food. . . ... . and makes no reply.
When you say in a loud voice. .'I do wish you'd try! '
Who seems not to notice. . .the things that you do.
And forever is losing. . . . . . . . . A sock or shoe?
Who, resisting or not. . . . . . lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding. . . .The long day to fill?
Is that what you're thinking ?. .Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse. . you're not looking at me.
I'll tell you who I am. . . . .. As I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding,. . . . . as I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of Ten. .with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters. . . . . . . who love one another
A young boy of Sixteen. . . .. with wings on his feet
Dreaming that soon now. . .. . a lover he'll meet.
A groom soon at Twenty. . . ..my heart gives a leap.
Remembering, the vows. . . . .that I promised to keep.
At Twenty-Five, now. . . . .I have young of my own.
Who need me to guide. . . And a secure happy home.
A man of Thirty. . . . . . . My young now grown fast,
Bound to each other. . .. With ties that should last.
At Forty, my young sons .. .have grown and are gone,
But my woman is beside me. . to see I don't mourn.
At Fifty, once more,. . . . .Babies play 'round my knee,
Again, we know children. . . . My loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me. . . . My wife is now dead.
I look at the future. . . . . . . I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing ... . young of their own.
And I think of the years. . . And the love that I've known.
I'm now an old man. . . . . . .. and nature is cruel.
It's jest to make old age. . . . . . . look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles. . .. grace and vigour, depart.
There is now a stone. . . where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass. A young man still dwells,
An
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Эту запись оставил(а) на своей стене Даниил Трофимов
