Положение о проведении Конкурса перевода английской поэзии

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  Отправив запрос по электронной почте galitzinelibrary@mail.ru;
  
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  Оставив запрос в официальной группе Библиотеки в социальной сети Вконтакте http://vk.com/galitzinelibrary;
  
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  Оставив запрос в официальной группе Библиотеки в социальной сети Facebook https://www.facebook.com/galitzine.library;
  
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  в Библиотеке по адресу: наб. р. Фонтанки, д. 46, 2 этаж.
  

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  заполненную анкету для участия в Конкурсе с указанием необходимых контактных данных (Приложение № 2 «Положения о конкурсе»).;
  
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  перевод, выполненный конкурсантом.
  

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  перевод принимается в печатной форме в электронном виде (в форматах .doc и .docx);
  
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  рекомендуется использовать шрифт Times New Roman не менее 12 пт.
  

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  Стилистическая грамотность перевода;
  
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  сохранение семантической структуры произведения;
  
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  разнообразие переводческих приемов;
  
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  стиль и художественная насыщенность перевода, наличие художественно-выразительных средств;
  
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  отсутствие грамматических, стилистических, лексических и прочих ошибок.
  

Стихотворение для конкурсного перевода

GOING, GOING

Philip Larkin

I thought it would last my time –

The sense that, beyond the town,

There would always be fields and farms,

Where the village louts could climb

Such trees as were not cut down;

I knew there'd be false alarms

In the papers about old streets

And split level shopping, but some

Have always been left so far;

And when the old part retreats

As the bleak high-risers come

We can always escape in the car.

Things are tougher than we are, just

As earth will always respond

However we mess it about;

Chuck filth in the sea, if you must:

The tides will be clean beyond.

But what do I feel now? Doubt?

Or age, simply? The crowd

Is young in the M1 cafe;

Their kids are screaming for more –

More houses, more parking allowed,

More caravan sites, more pay.

On the Business Page, a score

Of spectacled grins approve

Some takeover bid that entails

Five per cent profit (and ten

Per cent more in the estuaries): move

Your works to the unspoilt dales

(Grey area grants)! And when

You try to get near the sea

In summer . . .

It seems, just now,

To be happening so very fast;

Despite all the land left free

For the first time I feel somehow

That it isn't going to last,

That before I snuff it, the whole

Boiling will be bricked in

Except for the tourist parts –

First slum of Europe: a role

It won't be hard to win,

With a cast of crooks and tarts.

And that will be England gone,

The shadows, the meadows, the lanes,

The guildhalls, the carved choirs.

There'll be books; it will linger on

In galleries; but all that remains

For us will be concrete and tyres.

Most things are never meant.

This won't be, most likely; but greeds

And garbage are too thick-strewn

To be swept up now, or invent

Excuses that make them all needs.

I just think it will happen, soon.

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