в кои то веки Эсталль родила ежа в наморднике.(перевод Дивы)

мне нужны костыли,чтоб идти не касаясь ногами земли
перевод ДИВЫ, авторства Драу

так как мой инглиш оказался еще хуже,чем я могла себе предположить,пришлось схватить специалиста в области и долго и упорно мучить. Не знаю что из этого вышло,но тянуть кота за хвост в долгий ящик уже безбожно,посему нате что есть.


The night was cool and humid.As if on order.As in a cheap soap opera.According to the plot,it must have been such a night.And rain by all means.But not a downpour like in horror movies,but a dreary drizzle.Because there won't be any horrors,any screams and shudders.Everything will be quiet and imperceptible.As is was ment to be,according to the plot.
I went out on the balcoly.The city glittered with lights,waves of shadows seemed to be running above them,rolling over them for a second.One can’t enjoy a vast panorama – I’m not living that high.But quite enough to do what I’m up to.I wish I don’t change my mind.Otherwise I’ll just stop respecting myself.However it’s already more then enough.
Actually it would be better to climb up to the roof or another couple of floors up for certainty-I don't want to survive by chance and to remain in an invalid carriage for the rest of my life.One invalidness is enough.But in this case they will surely find out that it was not an accident.Those criminalists seem to be able to talk with the dead,fishing out their last secrets.So no roofs!
Just fell down from the balcony.Just got drunk.Just lost balance.That happens more then often.But I'm not drunk.I'm disgustingly sober.And I'm scared.But I must...
It all began when my voice range suddenly reduced.Ernie told me that it could have been some kind of stress or due to climat change,or that I overcharged my vocal chords.Doctor found some nodules.Then it turned out to be more serious.Some kind of "age changes" to crown it all.Two operations like 2 shots-in the heart and in the head-killed my voice.Killed me.Because I was the voice myself.And I was nothing more but voice.I could hardly believe.I could hardly want.I could hardly breathe.How can it be?How could I have lost my voice?How can I never sing again?
But it's impossible!It has always been!I could manage it and handle it anyhow.I was its sole master.And then it oops-and "disappeared".I have began to notice that I can sit still for almost an hour,with my hands clasped, looking somewhere to the floor.It's done for.I'me done for.There's no voice anymore.I have even begun to talk quietly and with audible huskiness.They say I can need a third operation.Before I used to lift the collar to protect my chords from cold.Now-to hide scars.More scars?Enough.Enough.I'm too tired.I pity myself.And pity Ernie.So now I stand on the balcony and look down.And I'm scared.But I must.
I've become a burden for him,for my Ernie.He's got so much to do,so many projects,so many interests in life,so many ways for realisation of his many-sided talent.And I?What is left for me?What is left from me?I'm fit for nothing and I can do nothing.And don't want anymore.Before I used to want to get my voice back.And now I understand that it was to be so.Everything has got its own expiry date.And people as well.Interesting to know,am I a human beeing or a thing?...No,not interesting anymore.
I put the half-empty bottle carefully on the floor.No,I'd rather keep it.It will fall out itself.There.On the asphalt.It would look more natural this way.It would be a sordid death for sure.But let Ernie treat me a bit disgustedly.That will make him forget me sooner.But maybe he has already begun to forget me.He often visits me here,as if paying debt to our old friendship.But I feel that it is only debt.It is to be so.It should be so.Enough,Ernie.No need of it all.Today I waited for you to ask you never to come anymore.But you seem to read my thoughts.Well,more than 20 years of joint hmm...work marks the way of thinking as well.We are tuned up to the wawe of each other,I understand everything perfectly.You don't need my death.But all the more you don't need my worthless life...
Damned hands.Clutched at the balcony's railing so hard as if they want to get rooted to it.And the bottle is on the verge of cracking and cutting my fingers.But damn the fingers!Damn it all!
I'm scared.My God,what I'm scared!I can't believe.Am I really going to...And how does it feel when the heart stops beating?I think it doesn't hurt so much as when the voice disappears.
To bend down.Yes,to draw the chin out a bit,to bend a bit more forward.To straiten my back.And I will turn over down into darkness myself.Just let go this fucking railing!As cold as life itself that you clutch at in the same way.What do you have in your life,Alex?Do you have it...I'm damned not old at all yet,I've got a whole life to live on...But this age seems to be ideal for death.Youth has passed but old age hasn't yet come.At least I manage to avoid all that altzheimers and parkinsons...
A little bit more.My back clenched,it seemed that some muscle cramped.I shut my eyes.Swallowed.And that was all.
I didn't really understand what happened next.I was somehow drawn back but not down.The bottle turned over somewhere into the darkness,and in a couple of seconds I heard its distant clinking on the pavement.I hit my back against the wall.And saw Erst's face before mine.He's always a bit tousled,the whole of him,totally,like a typical musician.And now that tousleness likened him to some bird of prey.I even got frightened.Frightened by the expression of his face.He grabbed me by the collar and shouted at me:
-Damn it,Alex,what the fuck were you doing?!!You could fall down!
He never shouted at me.
-I wanted to fall down-I said flatly.
Without saying a word he slapped me across the face so violently that my head shook aside.Than again.
He never beat me.Never.
I slowly sank down against the wall,squatting and embracing my knees,pressing my chest to them.My legs couldn't hold me anymore.It didn't hurt.Not at all.Just...hat he just hit me.
Than he grabbed me by the shoulders,lifted me up,made me look into his eyes and cried something out again.I didn't understand.I recon something about the fall again,about drinking.I swung.Something moved me aside.He held me and pressed to himself.And I realised that I'm still alive.I wanted to lay down.I wanted to fall asleep.Or to scream.Or even to cry.Something broke inside me,and my organism stopped working normally but was torn between those controversary wishes.I shivered so hard that I even could feel my own muscles' tension.
Ernie almost dragged me from the balcony and shut the door.Than seated me into an armchair.It was warm and quiet in the room.It even seemed to smell of electricity-such a glass-golden homely smell.Ernst squatted before me,looking attentively into my face and rubbed my cheeks and forehead with his rough big palms.
-Alex...Alex,what's up to you,what has happened?!
I was shivering.I realised only that I had survived.And that Ernie is sitting before me.
-How did you get in?-I whispered.
-It wasn't locked-he answered.Yes,right,I waited for him and probably forgot to lock the door.Damn it.In the best traditions of the genre.And then the hero suddenly appears and saves the heroine from death.Yeah.The heroine.And opera diva from the gothic scene.An ex- one!
I laughed out loud.And couldn't stop,just laughed and laughed.Lost my breath and laughed again,leaning backwards in the armchair.Interesting,will he hit me again to calm me down?He didn't.He got up,took me into his arms,held me and wept,just for a couple of seconds.
-My God,but you could die!,he said after calming down and caressing my hair strongly.-You could die!What the hell were you thinking of?!I got frightened almost to a heart attack...
What was I thinking of?I was thinking of you,Ernie.At first you'll suffer without me.And than you would get used and maybe even,for yourself,secretly from your friends,annoying in their useless sympathy you would thank me for setting you free...Why on Earth have you come?...
-Ernie,...I began telling nonsence, senseless in this case-I even talk with effort now.I'm not "the voice of Deine Lakaien" anymore.You can do everything, compose both music and lyrics.And I can't do anything,I could only sing.Even there's no voice anymore.There is no me.What's the meaning of leaving further?...
-What's the meaning?!-he snarled again,shaking me by my shoulders.I came round to myself.He was looking at me.There was a whole sea in his eyes.A sea with shallow water where one can discern golden sand through greenish water.
He glided up to me with all his warmth and the smell of rain under which he had got while running from his car to the doorway.He grasped me across my torso and I felt his rough fingers extremely distinctly on my shovels.Then he kissed me on the lips.
I startled,sighing shortly of surprise.I didn't expect it.But I've been waiting for it for all these years.
Isn't it a dream?Am I still alive?Or maybe I just got mad and sit looking on the floor and clasping my hands on my knees,and all this-the night,the balcony,the rain and Ernst are just hallucinations?
He was kissing me for so long and so violently,with his whole mouth,with his tongue,as strongly as he could.I closed my eyes and melted in his arms like a lump of snow.
Never again...You get it?-he whispered abruptly,pressing his cheek to my neck-never tell me again that your life has no meaning.
-But the voice...-I began harshly and fell silent at once.
-Even when you just keep silent,I can listen to you for ever,-he whispered in my neck.His breath was hot.Or is it me that is so cold?Warm me up,Ernie.Embrace me.I feel so cold...
I leaned to him,touching his lips with mine carefully.He replied.By God,how could we go so far?Serious grown-up people.Moreover-men who have been friends for more than 20 years.And in just a couple of minutes we violently clung to each other and moaned,and I bit his shoulder,embracing his thighs with my legs,and he abruptly kissed me on my neck,my temple,my lips.We've run crazy,Ernie.Let's stop.Let's catch our breath.Let's give a thought to what has happened.
But I didn't want to think.Neither did he.We wanted just that what was going on.We have wanted it for all these years.Why so late,Ernie?Why so late?...
We lay facing each other with our foreheads pressed together.My black hair was in a mess.He had a faint smile.I stroked him with my fingers on the shoulder,the neck,the sunken cheek.I sang-with my heart.Soundlessly.I sang for him.we were the only two who could hear the music.And it lulled us into sleep.

@темы: H/C, Deine Lakaien, ANGST, POV, R, полезное

2008-08-22 в 16:32 

Гробик - это киборг наоборот
побегу давать ссылку страждущему! данке шён!!!

2008-08-22 в 19:18 

мне нужны костыли,чтоб идти не касаясь ногами земли
да пожалуйста!но это не моя заслуга)))

2008-08-23 в 08:57 

пунктуация искажает духовность
сообщество закрыто для незарегеных юзверей, так что лучше скопировать и переслать страждущему

2008-08-23 в 17:04 

мне нужны костыли,чтоб идти не касаясь ногами земли
до...тока на всякий случай перепроверьте,там очи в пятках,хоть и не сильно страшные,могут быть

2008-08-24 в 16:30 

Гробик - это киборг наоборот
Thank you very much. I would say a lots of thanks to the person who translated, too!! :)
Feedback will come soon ;)

2008-08-25 в 12:50 

мне нужны костыли,чтоб идти не касаясь ногами земли


German Gothic Slash Fiction