Каминяр Дмитрий Генаддьевич: другие произведения.

Guests (work by M. Prishvin)

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  • Аннотация:
    Перевод рассказа М. Пришвина "Гости".

   Guests (work by M. Prishvin)
   We had guests. From the nearby log piles (they lie for two years in a row awaiting big water) a wagtail came to us, simply curious just to look at us. We calculated that for us those logs would have lasted for fifty years - that's how plentiful they were! And after several years of uselessly laying under the wind, the rain, and the sun those logs grew dark, many log piles have leaned towards one another; several fell apart in a picturesque manner. Many insects developed in the rotting logs, and in huge numbers did wagtails settle here. We soon discovered a way how to shoot these little birdies at a close distance: if it sits on the other side of the pile and is needed to be called to you, you need to show yourself from a distance and hide away from the bird immediately. Then the wagtail, intrigued, will run by the edge of the pile and from the corner will look at you, and you will see it on that very log, at which you have aimed your camera earlier.
   It looks very much like a game of tag, only there the children play, and here am I, an old man, play with a bird.
   A crane arrived and landed on that side of the river in the yellow swamp amongst the tussocks and began to walk, leaning.
   An osprey, a fish-eating predator, arrived, and searching for prey hovered in the air, flapping its wings.
   A kite, with a rounded cut-out in the tail, appeared, and soared high.
   A marsh harrier came, a great fan of birds' eggs. Then all wagtails burst from the logs and chased it like mosquitoes. The wagtails were soon joined by crows, which guarded their nests. The huge predator looked very pathetic, such a giant fled in fear, flying, flying with all its' might.
   The forest doves cried "woo-woo".
   The cuckoo relentlessly cuckooed in the forest.
   The heron flew out of dry old rushes.
   Almost nearby the black grouse relentlessly cried.
   The swamp yellow-hammer squeaked and swung on a single thin reed.
   The shrew squeaked in the old leaves.
   And when it warmed-up further, then the leaves of the bird cherry, like birds with green wings, too, like guests, arrived and settled down, the violet anemone came, the wolf's berry and so on, until all levels of the forest began to appear in green buds.
   There was also an early willow, and to it came the bee, and the bumblebee hummed, and the butterfly closed its wings.
   A fox, furry, concerned, flushed in the reeds.
   An adder dried itself, curling on a tussock.
   And it seemed that this wonderful time would not end. But today, jumping from a tussock to a tussock in a swamp, I noticed something in the water, leaned down, and saw an uncountable quantity of mosquito larvae.
   It will not be long now till they grow up, come from under the water, stand on the water, which is solid for them, and gather their wits, fly-off and buzz. Then the sunny day will turn gray from the blood-suckers. But this great army guards the virginity of the great forest, and does not allow summer visitors to ill-use the beauty of these virginal places.
   The minnows came. Two fishermen came in a boat. And when we collected our things to depart, immediately in our spot they made a bonfire, hanged a cauldron, scaled the minnows, and without bread ate soup and fishes.
   On that single dry spot, probably, the primeval fisherman too made bonfires, and here stood our car as well. When we put away our tent, in which was our kitchen, then upon the tent's spots descended the yellow-hammers to peck at something. And they were our last guests.

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