Anglijskaya poezziya v perevode na russkij
1. Kdward 22
1. |dvard. Perevod A. K. Tolstogo 23
2. The Twa Corbies 26
2. Voron k voronu letit. Perevod A. S. Putkina, 27
3. King John and the Abbot 28
3. Korol' i abbat. Perevod F. B. Millera 29
4. Robin Hood Rescuing Three Squires 36
4. Robin Gud spasaet treh strelkov. Perevod M. I.
Cvetaevoj 37
5. Queen Eleanor's Confession 44
5. Koroleva |linor. Perevod S. YA. Marshaka 45
6. The Gypsy Laddie 50
6. Dzhoni Fa. Perevod A. N. Pleshcheeva 51
GEOFFREY CHAUCER
DZH|FFRI CHOSER
7. From "The Canterbury Tales." The Prologue 54
7. Kenterberijskie rasskazy. Obshchij prolog. (Ot~yavki).
Perevod I. A. Kashkina 55
Depesoi) YU. S. Remennikovoj 59
THOMAS WYATT
TOMAS UAJET
8. The Lover's Appeal 60
8. Ty brosish' li menya?.. Perevod V. V. Rogova 61
HENRY HOWARD SURRKY
GENRI GOVARD SERREJ
9. Description and Praise of his Love Geraldine 62
9. Sonet (Iz doblestnoj Florencii vedet...). Perevod
O. B. Rumera 63
6
Contents
EDMUND SPENSKR .
|DMUND SPENSER
Amoretti.
10. XIX. The merry cuckow, messenger of spring 64
10. X IX. Lesnoj kukushki radostnyj rozhok... Pe-
revod A. YA. Sefgeeva 65
11. XXXVII. What guyle is this, that those her golden
tresses 64
11. XXXVII. S takim kovarstvom zoloto volos... IIepesoi)
A. YA. Sergeeva 65
12. LXII. The weary ueage his gase now having run 66
12. LXII. Okonchil put' ustalyj staryj.god... Perevod
A. YA. Sergeeva 67
WALTER RALEGH
UOLTER R|LI
13. Sir Walter Ralegh to his Sonne 68
13. Synu. Perevod B. L. Paspifnaka 69
PHILIP SIDNEY
FILIP SIDNI
From "Astrophel and Stella"
Astrofil i Stella
14. Come, sleep; O sleep 70
14. Pridi, o Son, zabvenie zabot... Perevod V. V. Rogova 71
CHRISTOPHER MARLOWK
KRISHOFER MARLO
15. The Passionate Shepherd to his Love 72
15. Strastnyj pastuh - svoej vozlyublennoj. Perevod
I. N. ZHdanova 73
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
UILXYAM SHEKSPIR
Sonnets
Sonety
16. XXI. So is it not with me as with that Muse, 74
16. XXI. Ne sorevnuyus' ya s tvorcami od.. Perevod
S. YA. Marshaka 75
7
Soderzhanie
17. LIV. O, how much more doth beauty beauteous
seem 74
17. LIV. Prekrasnoe prekrasnej vo sto krat... Pere-
vod S. YA. Mapmaxa 75
18. LXV. Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor
boundless sea 76
18. LXV. Uzh esli med', granit, zemlya i more... Pepe-
vod S YA. Marshaka 77
19. LXVI. Tired with all these, for restful death 1 cry 76
19. LXVI. Izmuchas' vsem, ya umeret' hochu... Perevod
B. L. Pastenaka 77
YA zhizn'yu utomlen, i smert' - moya mechta
Perevod V. G. Bezhediktova 626
20. LXXIII. That time of ueag thou mayst in me be-
hold 78
20. LXXIII. To vremya goda vidish' ty vo mne... Perevod
B. L. Passhe~ka 79
21. LXXVII. Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties
wear 78
21. LXXVII. Sediny vashi zerkalo pokazhet... Perevod
S. YA. Ma~aka 79
22. HS. Then hate me when thou wilt 80
22. HS. Uzh esli ty razlyubish',- tak teper'... Pere-
vod S. YA. Mopmaxa 81
23. CXVI. Let me not to the marriage of true minds 82
23. CXVI. Meshat' soedinen'yu dvuh serdec... Perevod
S. YA. Ma~aka 83
24. SHHH. Mu mistress' eyes are nbthing like the sun 82
24. SHHH. Ee glaza na zvezdy ne pohozhi... Perevod
S. YA. Ma~aka 83
From "The Tragical History of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark"
tragediya o Gamlete, prince Datskom (Otryvki)
25. O! that this too too solid esh would melt 84
25. O, esli b etot plotnyj sgustok myasa... Perevod
M. L. Lozinskogo 85
Dlya chego ty ne rastaesh'... Perevod N. A. Polevogo 627
8
Contents
26. To be, or not to be: that is the question 86
26. Byt' ili ne byt' - takov vopros... Perevod M. L. Lo-
zinskogo 87
Byt', il' ne byt' - takov vopros! CHto luchshe... Pe-
revod M. P. Vfonchenko 628
THOMAS CAMPION
TOMAC K|MPION
From "A Booke of Ayres"
Kniga pesen
27. When thou must home to shades of under ground 88
e 27. Kogda tvoj srok pridet v zhilishche tenej... Perevod
I. A. Lihacheva 89
BEN JONSON
VEN DZHONSON
28. From "The Sad Shepherd, or a Tale of Robin
Hood" 90
28. Lyubov' i smert'. Perevod V. V. Rogova 91
JOHN DONNE
DZHON DONN
29. The Good-Morrow 92
29. S dobrym utrom. Perevod B. B. Tomashevskogo. 93
30. Song 92
30. Pesnya. Perevod B. B. Tomashevskogo 93
31. A Valediction: Forbidding Mobrning 94
31. Proshchanie, zapreshchayushchee pechal'. Perevod A. M. SHad-
fina 95
ROBERT HERRICK
ROBERT GERRIK
32. The Mad Maid's Song 98
32. Pesnya bezumnoj devy. Perevod A. YA. Sefgeeva 99
GEORGE HERBERT
DZHORDZH GERBERT
33. Vertue 100
" 33. Dobrodetel'. Perevod I. A. Lihacheva 101
9
Soderzhanie
EDMUND WALLKR
|DMUND UOLLER
34. On a Girdle 102
34. Poyas Perevod S. YA. Ma~aka 103
JOHN MILTON
DZHON MILXTON
35. On Shakespeare 104
35. O SHekspire. Perevod S. YA. Mraka 105
36 On his Blindness 104
36. -O slepote. Sonet. Perevod S. YA. Marshaka 105
O svoej slepote. Depesoi) YU. B. Kieva 632
37. From "Paradise Lost." Book III. 106
37. Poteryannyj raj (Otryvok). Mil'ton, setuyushchij na
svoyu slepotu. Perevod N. I. Gnedicha 107
SAMUKL BUTLKR
S|MYU|L BAHLER
38 From "Hudibras" 110
e 38. Gudibras (Osh~vok). Perevod P. V. Melkovoj. 111
ANDRKW MAKCHEEE
|NDRYU MARVELL
39. The Definition of Love 114
39. Opredelenne Lyubvi. Perevod A. M. SHadfina 115
JOHN DRYDEN
DZHON DRAJDEN
40. Alexander's Feast; or, The Power of Music 118
40. Pirshestvo Aleksandra, ili Sila garmonii. Perevod
V. A. ZHusovskogo 119
JONATHAN SWIFT
DZHONAHAN SVIFH
41. Fmm "Verses on the Death of Dr. Swift" 128
41, Stihn na smert' doktora Svifta (Ot~yavok). Perevod
YU. D. Levina 129
10
Contents
JOHN GAY
DZHON GEJ
42. The Nage and Many Friends 134
42. Zayac i ego druz'ya. Perevod I. Il'inskogo 135
ALKXANDER POPE
ALEKSANDR POP
43. From "Windsor Forest(TM) 138
43. Vindzorskij les (Otryvok). Povod N. M. Kafamzi-
139
44. The Dying Christian to his Soul 140
44. Umirayushchij hristianin. Perevod A. F. Voejkova 141
JAMES THOMSON
DZHEJMS TOMSON
From "The Seasons"
Vremena goda
45. Summer 144
45. Seladon i Ameliya. Perevod A. F. M~zlyahova 145
46. A Hymn 146
46. Gimn. Perevod V. A. ZHukovskogo 147
THOMAS GRAY
TOMAS GREJ
47. Elegy Written in a Country Church-Yard 154
47. Sel'skoe kladbishche. Perevod V. A. ZHukovskogo (1802) 155
Perevod V. A. ZHukovskogo (1839) 639
OLIVER GOLDSMITH
OLIVER GOLDSMIT
48. From "The Hermit.." Kdwin and Angelina 164
48. Pustynnik. Ballada. Perevod V. A. ZHukovskogo 165
ERASMUS DARWIN
|RAZM DARVIN
49. From "The Temple of Nature, or The Origin of
Society." Canto the First. The Origin of Life 176
11
Soderzhanie
49. Hram Prirody, ili Proishozhdenie obshchestva. Pesn'
pervaya. Proishozhdenie zhizni (Otryvok). Perevod
N. A. Hayudkovskogo 177
JAMES MACPHKRSON
DZHEJMS MAKFERSON
From "Works of Ossian"
Sochineniya Ossiana
50. The Songs of Selma. Colma 178
50. Pesn' Kol'my. perevod D. V. Venevitinova 179
51. Colna-Dona: A Poem. 180
51. Kol'na.Podrazhanie Ossianu. Perevod A. S. Pushkina 181
RICHARD BRINSLKY SHKRIDAN
RICHARD BRINSLI SHERIDAN
52 Song. From "The School for Scandal" 190
52. Zastol'naya pesnya (Iz "SHkoly zlosloviya") Perevod
M. L. Lozinskogo 191
Podvod M N M~av'eva 643
GKORGK CRABBE
DZHORDZH KRABB
53 From "The Borough." Peter Grimes 192
* 53. Mestechko. Piter Grajmz (Otryvki). Perevod
YU. D. Levina 193
WILLIAM BLAKE
UILXYAM BLEJK
From "Songs of Innocence'
Pesni Nevinnosti
54. The Little Black Vou 204
54. CHernyj mal'chik. Perevod S. YA. Mraka 205
From "Songs of Experience"
Pesni Opyta
55. The Tyger 206
55. Tarp. Perevod S. YA. Mapmaxa 207
Perevod K. D. Bav'ionsha 646
Podvod V. L. Toshfova 646
12
Contents
56. To Tirzah 208
56. K Tirze. Perevod V. L. Tonoposa 209
ROBERT BURNS
ROBERT liEPHC
57. John Barleycorn 210'
57. Dzhon YAchmennoe Zerno. Perevod S YA. Mspauoxe, 211
Perevod M. L. Mihajlova 648
Pejte.vod |..G. Bagfickogo 650
58. From "The Jolly Beggars.(TM)A Cantata 214
~58. Gol' gulyashchaya. Kantata (Ot~yavki). Perevod S. V Npa-
posa 215
59. Coming through the gue 222
59. Probirayas' do kalitki... Perevod S. YA. Ma~aka. 223
60. 1 hae a wife o' my ain 224
60. Pesn' bednyaka. Perevod V. S. K~ochkmyaa 225
61. John Anderson, my jo, John 224
61. Dzhonu Andersonu. Perevod M. L. Mihajyuva 225
62. Macpherson's Farewell 226
62. Makferson pered kazn'yu. Perevod S. YA. Mapsunca 227
63. Is there, for honest poverty 228
63. CHestnaya bednost'. Perevod S. YA. Mapmoxa 229
64. The Lass That Made the Bed to me 232
64. Nochleg v puti. Perevod S. YA. Mapmaxa 233
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH
UILXYAM VORDSVORT
65. ZHe are Seven 238
65. Nas semero. Perevod I. I. Kozlova 239
66. [Lucy] 242
66. Lyusi. Perevod S. YA. Marshaka 243
67. Sonnet (Nuns fret not at their convent's narrow
room...) 246
67. Sonet (Otshel'nicam ne tesno zhit' po kel'yam...)
Perevod D. E. Mina 247
68. Sonnet Composed upon Westminster Bridge. Sept. 3,
1803 248
68. Sonet, napisannyj na Vestminsterskom mostu 3 sen-
tyabrya 1803 goda. Perevod D. V. Levina 249
13
Soderzhanie
69. [The Daffodils] 250
69. ZHeltye narcissy. Perevod I. A. Lihacheva 251
WALTER SCOTT
VALXTER SKOTT
70. The Eve of Saint John 252
70. Zamok Smal'gol'm, ili Ivanov vecher. Perevod
V. A. ZHukovskogo 253
71. From "Marmion.(TM) Canto CH. The Court. XII. Lochin-
var 264
71. Beverlej. SHotlandskaya ballada iz Val'tera Skotta.
Perevod I. I. Kozlova 265
72. Nora's Vow (From the Gaelic) 268
72. Klyatva Mojny (SHotlandskaya ballada). Perevod
K. K. Pavlovoj 269
SAMUEL TAYLOR COLKRIDGE
S|MYU|L TEJLOR KOLXRIDZH
73. From "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner" 270
73. Skazanie o Starom Morehode (Otryvok). Perevod
V. V. Levika 271
74. KiYa Khan: or, A Vision in a Dream. A Fragment 282
74. Kukla Han, ili Videnie vo sne. Fragment. Perevod
K. D. Bal'monta 283
ROBERT SOUTHKY
ROBERT SAU~I
75. God's Judgement on a Wicked Bishop 290
75. Sud bozhij nad episkopom. Perevod V. A. ZHukovskogo 291
76. The Battle of Blenheim 296
76. Blengejmskij boj. Perevod A. N. Pleshcheeva 297
77. From "Madoc". Part I. Madoc in Wales. I. The Return to
Wales 300
77. Medok (Medok v Uallah). Perevod A. S. Pushkina 301
14
Contents
CHARLES LAMB
CHARLZ L|M
78. The Old Familiar Faces 304
78. Bylye znakomye lica. Perevod M. L. Mihajlova. 305
THOMAS CAMPBKLL
TOMAS K|MPBELL
79. Glenara .306
79. Glenara. SHotlandskaya ballada. Perevod K. K. Pavlo-
60J 307
THOMAS M0ORE
TOMAS MUR
From "Irish Melodies"
Irlandskie melodii
80. As a beam o'er the face of the waters may glow 310
80. Luch yasnyj igraet na svetlyh vodah... Perevod
I. I. Kozlova 311
81. She is far from the land where her young hero sleeps 310
" 81. Daleka storona, gde mladoj ee drug... Depeeoi)
YU. D. Levina 311
82. The Minstrel-Boy 312
82. Syn menestrelya. Perevod A. N. Pleshcheeva 313
From "National Airs"
Pesni narodov
83. Air.- The Bells of St. Petersburg 314
83. Vechernij zvon. Perevod I. I. Kozlova 315
84. Sasa1oshap Air 314
84. Mir vam, pochivshie brat'ya!.. Perevod M. L. Mihajlo-
va 315
85. Venetian Air 316
85. Proshchaj, Tereza! Pechal'nye tuchi... Perevod A. A. Feta
GEORGE GORDON BYRON
DZHORDZH GORDON BAJRON
86. Fragment Written Shortly after the
Marriage of Miss
Chaworth 318
15
Soderzhanie
86. Otryvok, napisannyj vskore posle zamuzhestva miss
CHavort. Perevod A. A. Bloka. 319
87. 1 would 1 were a careless child 318
87. Hochu ya byt' rebenkom vol'nym... Perevod 3. YA. Bpwco-
va 319
88. Farewell! if ever.fondest prayer 322
88.. Prosti! Kol'- mogut k nebesam... Perevod M. YU. ler-
montova .............................................. 323
89. Lines Written in an Album, at Malta 322
89. V al'bom. Perevod M. YU. Lermontova 323
V al'bom druz'yam. Perevod F. I. Tyutcheva . 663
From "Hebrew Melodies"
Evrejskie melodii
90. The harp the monarch minstrel swept 324
90. Arfa Davida. Perevod N. I. Gnedicha 325
91. Mu soul is dark - Oh! quickly string 326
91. Evrejskaya melodiya (Iz Bajrona). Perevod M. YU. Ler-
montova.. 327
92. Sun of the sleepless! melancholy star! . 326
92. Nespyashchih solnce! Grustnaya zvezda! .. Perevod
A. K. Tolstogo 327
O Solnce glaz bessonnyh... Perevod A. A. Feta 664
93. The Destruction of Sennacherib 328
93. Porazhenie Sennaheriba. Perevod A. K. Tolstogo 329
94. Fare Thee Well 330
94. Prosti. Perevod I. I. Kozlova 331
95. From "The Prisoner of Chillon". 336
95. SHil'onskij uznik (Otryvok). Perevod V. A. ZHukovsko-
go 337
96. Stanzas to Augusta (When all around grew drear and
dark...) 340
96. Stansy k Avguste (Kogda sgustilas' mgla krugom...).
Perevod V. V. Levika 341
97. Stanzas to Augusta (Though the day of my destiny's
over...) 342
16
Contents
97. Stansy k Avguste (Kogda vremya moe minovalo...).
Perevod B. L. Pasternaka 343
98. Darkness 346
98. T'ma. Perevod I. S. Turgeneva 347
99. From "Childe Harold's Pilgrimage". Canto the
Fourth 350
99. Palomnichestvo CHajl'd-Garol'da. Pesn' chetvertaya
(Otf'mok). Perevod K. N. Batyushkova 351
100. From "Don Juan." Canto the First 352
100. Don-ZHuan. Pesn' pervaya (Otryvok). Perevod
T. G. Gnedich 353
Perevod G. A. SHengeli b67
101. Journal in Cephalonia 356
101. Iz dnevnika v Kefalonii. Perevod A. A. Bloha 357
CHARLES WOLFE .
CHARLZ VOLXF
102. The Burial of Sir John Moore 358
102. Na pogrebenie anglijskogo generala' sira Dzhona
Mura. Perevod I. I. Kozlova 359
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY
PERSI BISHI SHELLI
103. Ozymandias 362
103. Ozimandiya. Perevod K. D. Bal'monta 363
104. The Cloud 362
104. Oblako. Perevod V. V. Levika 363
Perevod N. Miisnogo 670
105. Ode to the West Wind 368
105. Oda zapadnomu vetru. Perevod B. L. Pasternaka 369
106. The Indian Serenade 372
106. Indijskaya serenada. Perevod B. L. Pastefnaka 373
107. To 374
107. Slishkom chasto zavetnoe slovo lyud'mi oskvernya-
los'... Perevod K. D. Bal'monta 375
Oposhleno slovo odno... Perevod B. L. Pasternaka 673
17
Soderzhanie
108. Song so the Men of England 376
108. Muzham Anglii. Perevod S. YA. Marshaka 377
109. Sonnet: England in 1819 378
109. Angliya v 1819 godu. Perevod V. L. Tonoposa 379
JOHN KEATS
DZHON KITS
110. On the Grasshopper and Cricket 382
110. Kuznechik i sverchok. Perevod S. YA. Mapmaxa 383
Perevod B. L. Paste~naha 674
111. The Devon Maid 382
111. Devonshirskoj devushke. Perevod S. YA. Mafsh'aka 383
112. To Autumn 384
112. Oda k oseni. Perevod B. L. Pastefnaka 385
113. Ode on a Grecian Urn 386
113. Oda grecheskoj vaze. Perevod I. A. Lihacheva 387
114. La belle dame sansmerci 390
114. La belle dame sans merci. Perevod V. V. Levika 391
115. Ode on Melancholy 392
115. Oda melanholii. Perevod I. A. Lihacheva 393
116. Ode to Psyche 394
116. Oda Psihee. Perevod G. M. K~uzhkova 395
117. Sonnet on the Sea 400
117. K moryu. Perevod B. L. Pasternaka 401
118. Sonnet (The day is gone, and all its sweets are
gone...) 400
118. Den' otoshel i vse s soboj unes... Perevod V. V. Levi-
ka 401
119. Sonnet (When 1 have fears that 1 may cease to be...) 402
119. Kogda strashus', chto smert' prervet moj trud
Perevod V. V. Levika 403
THOMAS HOOD
TOMAS GUD
120. The Death-Bed 404
120. U smertnogo odra. Perevod M. L. Mihajlova 405
18
Contents
121. The Song of the Shirt 404
121. Pesnya o rubashke. Perevod M. L. Mihajlova 405
ALFRED TENNYSON
ALXFRED TENNISON
122. Godiva 412
122. Godiva. Perevod I. A. Bunina 413
ROBERT BROWNING
ROBERT BRAUNING
123. The Lost Leader 418
e 123. Vozhd'-otstupnik. Perevod M. A. Donskogo 419
124. Home-Thoughts, from Abroad 420
124. V Anglii vesnoj. Perevod S, YA. Marshaka. 421
125. How they Brought the Good News from Ghent to
Aix 420
125. Kak privezli dobruyu vest' iz Genta v Ahen. Perevod
V. V. Levika 421
WILLIAM JAMES LINTON
UILXYAM DZHEJMS LINHON
126. A Glee 426
126. Pesenka. Perevod YU. D. Levina 427
ERNEST JONES
|RNEST DZHONS
127. The Royal Bounty (A Legend of Windsor) 428
e 127. Korolevskie shchedroty (Vindzorskaya legenda). Pere-
vod YU. D. Levina 429
CHARLKS KINGSLEY
CHARLZ KINGSLI
128. The Sands of Dee 434
128. Na dyunah Di. Perevod N. P. Konchalovskoj 435
19
Soderzhanie
MATTHEW ARNOLD
M|TXYU ARNOLXD
129. Dover Beach 436
" 129. Duvrskij bereg. Perevod M. A. Donskogo 437
BANTE GABRIKL ROSSETTI
DANTE GABRI|LX ROSSETTI
From "The House of Life"
Dom zhizni
130. Love Enthroned 440
130. Prestol lyubvi. Perevod N. Minskogo 441
131. Silent Noon 440
131. Bezmolvnyj polden'. Perevod I. D. Kopostinskoj. 441
GEORGE MEREDITH
DZHORDZH MEREDIT
132. The Old Chartist 444
132. Staryj chartist. Perevod V. E. Vasil'eva 445
CHRISTINA ROSSETTI
KRISTINA ROSSEHTI
133. Up-hill 454
133. Voshozhdenie. Perevod V. L. Topo~ova 455
LEWIS CARROLL
LXYUIS K|RROLL
134. Jabberwocky (From "Through the Looking-Glass and
What Alice Found There") 456
134. Verlioka (Iz "Alisy v Zazerkal'e"). Perevod
T. L. SHCHepkinoj-Kupe~nik 457
Barmaglot. Pefevod D. G. orlovskoj 881
ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNK
ALDZHERNON CHARLZ SUINBERN
135. In the Orchard (Provenqal Burden) 458
135. V sadu (Napev Provansa). Perevod I. D. Kopostin-
skoj 459
20
Contents
136. A Song in Time of Order 460
136. Pesnya vremen poryadka. Perevod I. A. Kashkina 461
137. The Garden of Proserpine 464
137. Sad Prozerpiny. Perevod M. A. Donskvgo 465
GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS
DZHERARD M|NLI HOPKINS
138. The Leaden Echo 472
138. Svincovoe eho. Pefevod I. A. Lihacheva 473
ROBERT LOUIS STKVENSON
ROBERT LXYUIS SHIVENSON
139. Block City 474
139. Gorod iz derevyashek. Perevod V. YA. B~sova 475
140. Heather Ale (A Galloway I.egend) 474
140. Vereskovyj med (Ballada). Perevod S. YA. Mafshaha 475
OSCAR WILDK
OCKAP UAJLXD
141. Impressions du matin 482
141. Utro. Perevod V. YU. |l'snefa 483
142. Tmdium vitm 482
142. Tmdium vita. Perevod YU. P. M~ic 483
143. Symphony in Yellow 484
143. Simfoniya v zheltom. Perevod I. D. Kopostinekoj 485
144. From "The Ballad of Reading Gaol" 484
144. Ballada Redingskoj tyur'my. (Otryvok). Perevod
V. YA. bpwcosa 485
M. P. Alekseev. ANGLIJSKAYA PO|ZIYA I RUSSKAYA LITERATURA 491
KOMMENTARII V. V. Zaharova. 567
1. EDWARD
Why dois your brand sae drap wi bluid,
Edward, Edward,
Why dois your brand sae drap wi bluid,
And why sac sad gang yee 0?
O I hae killed my hauke sae guid,
Mither, mither,
0 I hae killed my hauke sae guid,
And I had nae mair bot hee O.
Your haukis bluid was nevir sae reid,
Edward, Edward,
Your haukis bluid was nevir sae reid,
My deir son I tell thee O.
O I hae killed my reid-roan steid,
Mither, mither,
0 I hae killed my reid-roan steid,
That erst was sae fair and' frie O.
Your steid was auld, and ye hae gat mair,
Edward, Edward,
Your steid was auld, and ye hae gat mair,
Sum other dule ye drie O.
0 I hae killed my fadir deir,
Mither, mither,
O I hae killed my fadir deir,
Alas, and wae is mee 0!
And whatten penance wul ye drie, for that,
Edward, Edward?
And whatten penance will ye drie for that?
My deir son, now tell me O.
Ile set my feit in yonder boat,
Mither, mither,
Ballady
1. |DVARD
"CH'ej kroviyu mech ty svoj tak obagril,
|dvard, |dvard?
CH'ej kroviyu mech ty svoj tak obagril?
Zachem ty glyadish' tak surovo?"
- "To sokola ya, rasserdyasya, ubil,
Mat' moya, mat',
To sokola ya, rasserdyasya, ubil,
I negde dobyt' mne drugogo! "
"U sokola krov' tak krasna ne bezhit,
|dvard, |dvard!
U sokola krov' tak krasna ne bezhit,
Tvoj mech okrovavlen krasnee!"
- "Moj kon' krasno-buryj byl mnoyu ubit,
Mat' moya, mat'!
Moj kon' krasno-buryj byl mnoyu ubit,
Toskuyu po dobrom kone ya! "
"Kon' star u tebya, eta krov' ne ego,
|dvard, |dvard!
Kon' star u tebya, eta krov' ne ego,
Ne to v tvoem sumrachnom vzore! "
- "Otca ya sejchas zakolol moego,
ch Mat' moya, mat'!
Otca ya sejchas zakolol moego,
I lyutoe zhzhet menya gore! "
"A greh chem tyazhelyj iskupish' ty svoj,
|dvard, |dvard?
A greh chem tyazhelyj iskupish' ty svoj?
CHem symesh' ty s sovesti noshu?"
- "YA syadu v lad'yu nepogodoj morskoj,
Mat' moya, mat'!
24
Ballads
Ile set my feit in yonder boat,
And Ile fare ovir the sea O.
And what wul ue doe wi your towirs and your ha,
Edward, Edward?
And what wul ue doe wi your towirs and your ha,
That were sae fair to see O?
Ile let thame stand tul they doun fa,
Mither, mither,
Ile let thame stand tul they doun fa,
For here nevir mair maun 1 bee O.
And what wul ue leive to your bairns and your wi
Kdward, Edward?
And what wul ue leive to your bairns and your wi
Whan ue gang ovir the sea O?
The warldis room, late them beg thrae life,
Mither, mither,
The warldis room, late them beg thrae life,
For thame nevir mair wul 1 see O.
And what wul ue leive to your ain mither deir,
Edward, Edward?
And what wul ue leive to your ain mither deir?
Mu deir son, now tell me O.
The curse of hell frae me sall ue beir,
Mither, mither,
The curse of hell frae me sall ue beir,
Sic counseils ue gave to me O.
25
Ballady
YA syadu v lad'yu nepogodoj morskoj
I vetru vse parusy broshu!"
"A s bashnej chto budet n s domom tvoim,
|dvard, |dvard?
A s bashnej chto budet i s domom tvoim,
Lad'ya kogda v more otchalit'"
- "Pust' veter i burya gulyayut po nim,
Mat' moya, mat'!
Pust' veter i burya gulyayut po nim,
Dokole ih v prah ne povalyatsya
"CHto zh budet s tvoimi s det'mi i s zhenoj,
|dvard, |dvard?
CHto zh budet s tvoimi s det'mi i s zhenoj
V ih gor'koj, bespomoshchnoj dole?"
- "Pust' po miru hodyat za hlebom s sumoj,
Mat' moya, mat'!
Pust' po miru hodyat za hlebom s sumoj,.
YA s nimi ne svizhusya bole!"
"A materi chto ty ostavish' svoej,
|dvard, |dvard?
A materi chto ty ostavish' svoej,
Tebya chto u grudi kachala?"
- "Proklyat'e tebe do skonchaniya dnej,
Mat' moya, mat'!
Proklyat'e tebe do skonchaniya dnej,
Tebe, chto mne greh nasheptala!
Perevod A. K. Tolstogo
26
Ballads
2. THE TWA CORBIES
As 1 was walking all alane,
1 heard twa corbies making a mane;
The tane unto the t'other say,
'Where sall we gang and dine to-day?'
'In behint yon auld fail dyke,
1 wot there lies a new slain knight;
And naebody kens that he lies there,
But his hawk, his hound, and lady fair.
'His hound is to the hunting gane,
His hawk to fetch the wild-fowl hame,
His lady's ta'en another mate,
So we may mak our dinner sweet.
'Ye '11 sit on his white hause-bane,
And I'll pike out his bonny blue enn;
Wi ae lock o his gowden hair
We '11 theek our nest when it grows bare.
'Mony a one for him makes mane,
But nane sall ken where he is gane;
Oer his white banes, when they are bare,
The wind sall blaw for evermair.'
27
Ballady
2. VORON K VORONU LETIT
Voron k voronu letit,
Voron voronu krichit:
Voron! gde b nam otobedat'?
Kak by nam o tom provedat'?
Voron voronu v otvet:
Znayu, budet nam obed;
V chistom pole pod rakitoj
Bogatyr' lezhit ubityj.
Kem ubit i otchego,
Znaet sokol lish' ego,
Da kobylka voronaya,
Da hozyajka molodaya.
Sokol v roshchu uletel,
Na kobylku nedrug sel,
A hozyajka zhdet milogo,
Ne ubitogo; zhivogo.
Perevod A. S. Pushkina
5. KING JOHN AND THE ABBOT
I 'll tell you a story, a story anon,
Of a noble prince, and his name was King John;
For he was a prince, and a prince
of great might,
He held up great wrongs, he put down
great right.
Derry down, down hey, derry down...
I 'll tell you a story, a story so merry,
Concerning the Abbot of Canterbury,
And of his house-keeping and high renown,
Which made him resort to fair London town.
' 'How now, father abbot? 'T is told unto me
That thou keepest a far better house than I;
And for [thy] house-keeping and high renown,
I fear thou hast treason against my crown.'
'I hope, my liege, that you owe me no grudge
For spending of my true-gotten goods."
'If thou dost not answer me questions three,
Thy head shall be taken from thy body.
'When I am set so high on my steed,
With my crown of gold upon my head,
Amongst all my nobility, with joy and
much mirth,
Thou must tell me to one penny what I am worth..
Ballady
3. KOROLX I ABBAT
(Starinnaya anglijskaya ballada)
Hochu rasskazat' vam bylinu odnu,
Kak zhil-byl korol' Ioann v starinu.
On v Anglii carstvom, kak mog, tak i pravil
I pamyat' nedobruyu v lyudyah ostavil.
Eshche vas poteshu ya byl'yu drugoj,
Kak zhil v Kenterberi igumen sedoj.
On sladko pital svoe tuchnoe telo -
I vest' o bogatstve ego progremela.
Korol' uslyhal, chto smirennyj abbat
Soderzhit ogromnyj sluzhitelej shtat;
Pazhi ego vse s zolotymi cepyami,
Lish' v barhate hodyat, zhivut gospodami.
"|ge, moj pochtennyj! ty tak-to zhivesh'?
Ty luchshe menya svoe delo vedesh'!"
Skazal Ioann: "Beregis' - mne izvestno,
CHto nazhil bogatstvo svoe ty nechestno".
- Monarh! otvechaet abbat: ne greshno
Nam to rastochat', chto sud'boyu dano,
I, pravo, ni teni tut net prestuplen'ya,
Kol' ya prozhivayu svoe lish' imen'e.-
"Nu, net, moj otec! ty prestupnik bol'shoj,
I dolzhen za to rasschitat'sya so mnoj:
Kol' na tri voprosa ne dash' mne otveta,
To znaj - ne vidat' tebe bozh'ego sveta!
"Vo-pervyh: kogda sred' vel'mozh vo dvorce
YAvlyus' ya v porfire i carskom vence,
Togda pust' premudrost' tvoya nam otkroet,
CHego tvoj monarh priblizitel'no stoit.
30
Ballads
'And the next question you must not flout,
How long I shall be riding the world about;
And the third question thou must not shrink,
But tell to me truly what I do think.'
'0 these are hard questions for my shallow wit,
For I cannot answer your grace as yet;
But if you will give me but three days space,
I 'll do my endeavor to answer your grace.'
'0 three days space I will thee give,
For that is the longest day thou hast to live.
And if thou dost not answer these questions right,
Thy head shall be taken from thy body quite.'
And as the shepherd was going to his fold,
He spy'd the old abbot come riding along:
'How now, master abbot? You 'r welcome
home;
What news have you brought from good
King John?'
'Sad news, sad news I have thee to give,
For I have but three days space for to live;
If I do not answer him questions three,
My head will be taken from my body.
'When he is set so high on his steed,
With his crown of gold upon his head,
Amongst all his nobility, with joy and
much mirth,
I must tell him to one penny what he
is worth.
"Vtoroe: ty dolzhen mne tochno skazat',
Kak skoro mogu ya ves' svet obskakat';
A tret'e: bez vsyakogo vkriv' uklonen'ya;
Ty dolzhen otkryt' mne moi pomyshlen'ya".
- O, Gospodi Bozhe! gde mudrosti vzyat'?
I mne li takie voprosy reshat'?
Ah, daj trehnedel'nyj mne srok razmyshlen'ya,
CHtob mog ya pridumat' otvetov reshen'e! -
"Izaol', tri nedeli tebe ya dayu
YAvit' nam velikuyu mudrost' svoyu;
No. esli ne dash' ty togda mne otveta,
Klyanus', ne vidat' tebe bozh'ego sveta!"
Uehal abbat s sokrushennoj dushoj,
Otpravilsya v Kembridzh dorogoj pryamoj,
Ottuda v Oksford; no zadachi mudrenoj
Ne mog razreshit' ves' sovet tam uchenyj.
Vot edet domoj on; upal ego duh;
Navstrechu emu monastyrskij pastuh
So stadom: "Zdorov'e i mir vashej chesti!
Kakie vezete iz Londona vesti?"
- Ah, drug moj! pechal'naya vest' u menya:
Mne zhit' ostaetsya chetyre lish' dnya.
Kol' na tri voprosa ne dam ya otveta,
Korol' menya hochet povesit' za eto.
- Vo-pervyh, skazal on: kogda vo dvore
Predstanet on svite v monarshem vence,
Togda pust' emu moya mudrost' otkroet,
CHego on, kak car', priblizitel'no stoit.
- Vtoroe: ya dolzhen naverno skazat',
Kak skoro on mozhet ves' svet obskakat';
A tret'e: bez vsyakogo vkriv' uklonen'ya,
YA dolzhen otkryt' vse ego pomyshlen'ya.
'And the next question I must not flout,
How long he shall be riding the world about;
And the third question I must not shrink,
But tell him truly what he does think.'
'0 master, did you never hear it yet,
That a fool may learn a wiseman wit?
Lend me but your horse and your apparel,
I 'll ride to fair London and answer the quarrel.'
'Now I am set so high on my steed,
With my crown of gold upon my head,
Amongst all my nobility, with joy and much mirth,
Now tell me to one penny what I am worth.'
'For thirty pence our Saviour was sold,
Amongst the false Jews, as you have been told,
And nine and twenty's the worth of thee,
For I think thou art os penny worser than he.'
'And the next question thou mayst not flout;
How long I shall be riding the worId about.'
'You must rise with the sun, and ride with the same
Until the next morning he rises again,
And then I am sure you will make no doubt
But in twenty-four hours you 'll ride it about.'
'And the third question you must not shrink,
But tell me truly what I do think,"
'All that I can do, and 't will make you merry;
For you think I'm the Abbot of Canterbury,
But I 'm his poor shepherd, as you may see,
And am come to beg pardon for he and for me.'
"Utesh'tes'! ved' eto eshche ne beda!
I umnika uchit durak inogda!
Snabdite menya lish' odezhdoj svoeyu
Da svitoj - i v London poedu ya s neyu.
"Ne hmurye tak brovi: ved' vse govoryat,
CHto s vidu na vas ya pohozh, tochno brat:
Pozvol'te zh mne vashe nadet' oblachen'e -
I vse menya primut za vas, bez somnen'ya".
- Nu tak uzh i byt', otvechaet abbat:
Voz'mi sebe svitu, naden' moj naryad,"
Teper' ya i sam zamechayu, chto s nimi
Ty mog by yavit'sya pred papoyu v Rime".
"A, zdravstvuj, pochtennejshij otche abbat!"
Voskliknul korol': "ty priehal vpopad,
I esli privez nam voprosov reshen'e -
Tebe podaryu ya i zhizn', i vladen'e.
"Vo-pervyh, kogda sred' vel'mozh vo dvorce
YAvlyus' ya v porfire i v carskom vence,
Pust' mudrost' tvoya mne i svite otkroet,
CHego tvoj korol' priblizitel'no stoit?"
- Gospod' nash Spasitel', skazhu ya v otvet,
Byl prodan evreyam za tridcat' monet;
Za vas dvadcat' devyat' naznachu primerno:
Odnoyu hot' men'she vy stoite verno.-
Korol' zasmeyalsya. "Nu vot uzh nikak
Ne dumal, ej-ej, stoit' deshevo tak!
Teper' ot tebya zhdu vtorogo otveta:
Kak skoro mogu ya ob®ehat' vkrug sveta?"
- Izvol'te lish' utrom poranee vstat'
I sledom za solncem vkrug sveta skakat' -
I, ver'te, chto budete zdes' vy obratno
CHrez dvadcat' chetyre chasa akkuratno.-
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Ballads
The king he turned him' about and did smile,
Saying, Thou shalt be the abbot the other while:
'0 no, my grace, there is no such need,
For I can neither write nor read.'
'Then four pounds a week will I give unto thee
For this merry jest thou hast told unto me;
And tell the old abbot, when thou comest home,
Thou hast brought him a pardon from good King John.'
35
Ballady
"Nu, pravo, ne dumal, chtob v edakij srok
Vokrug vsego sveta ob®ehat' ya mog.
teper' zhdu na tretij vopros moj reshen'ya:
Otkroj-ka mne, 'otche, moi pomyshlen'ya!"
- I eto otkryt' vam gotov ya i rad:
U vas na ume, chto pred vami abbat;
No ya lish' pastuh pri abbatovom stade,
I vas za abbata molyu o poshchade".
Korol' zasmeyalsya. "Nu tak uzh i byt' -
Pridetsya v abbaty tebya posadit'.-
- Ah, net, gosudar'! im ya byt' ne posmeyu!
Ved' ya ni chitat', ni pisat' ne umeyu.-
"Tri noblya v nedelyu tebe ya dayu
V nagradu za lovkuyu shutku tvoyu.
Stupaj i abbatu skazhi v uteshen'e,
CHto ya ego chesti daruyu proshchen'e".
Perevod F. B. Millera .
4. ROBIN HOOD RESCUING THREE SQUIRES
There are twelve months in all the year,
As I hear many men say,
But the merriest month in all the year
Is the merry month of May.
Now Robin Hood is to Nottingham gone,
With a link a down and a day,
And there he met a silly old woman,
Was weeping on the way.
"What news? What news, thou silly old woman?
What news hast thou for me?"
Said she, There's three squires in Nottingham town
To-day is condemned to die.
"0 have they parishes burnt?" he said,
"Or have they ministers slain'
Or have they robbed any virgin?
Or with other men's wives have lain?"
"They have no parishes burnt, good sir,
Nor yet have ministers slain,
Nor have they robbed any virgin,
Nor with other men's wives have lain."
"0 what have they done?" said bold Robin Hood,
"I pray thee tell to me:"
"It 's for slaying of the king's fallow deer,
Bearing their long bows with thee.*'
"Dost thou not mind, old woman," he said,
Since thou made me sup and dine?
37
Ballady
4. ROBIN GUD SPASAET TREH
STRELKOV
Dvenadcat' mesyacev v godu,
Ne verish' - poschitaj.
No vseh dvenadcati milej
Veselyj mesyac maj.
SHel Robin Gud, shel v Nottingem,-
Vesel lyud, vesel gus', vesel pes...
Stoit staruha na puti,
Veya smorshchilas' ot slez.
"CHto novogo, staruha?" - "Ser,
Zly novosti u nas!
Segodnya trem mladym strelkam
Ob®yavlen smertnyj chas".
"Kak vidno, rezali svyatyh
Otcov i cerkvi zhgli?
Prel'shchali dev? Il' s p'yanyh glaz
S chuzhoj zhenoj legli?"
"Ne rezali oni otcov
Svyatyh, ne zhgli cerkvej,
Ne krali devushek, i spat'
SHel kazhdyj so svoej".
"Za chto, za chto zhe zloj sherif
Ih na smert' osudil?"
- "S olenem vstretilis' v lesu...
Les korolevskij byl".
"Odnazhdy ya v tvoem domu
Poel, kak sam korol'.
38
Ballads
By the truth of my body," quoth bold Robin Hood,
"You could not tell. it in better time."
Now Robin Hood is to Nottingham gone,
With a link a down and a day,
And he met a silly old palmer,
Was walking along the highway.
"What news? what news, thou silly old man?
What news, I do thee pray?"
Said he, Three squires in Nottingham town
Are condemned to die this day.
"Come change thy apparel with me, old man,
ComZH change thy apparel for mine;
Here is forty shillings in good silver,
Go drink it in beer or wine."
"0 thine apparel is good," he said,
"And mine is ragged and torn;
Wherever you go, wherever you ride,
Laugh ne'er an old man to scorn."
"Come change thy apparel with me, old churl,
Come change thy apparel with mine;
Here are twenty pieces of good broad gold,
Go feast thy brethren with wine."
Then he put on the old man's hat,
It stood full high on the crown:
"The first bold bargain that I came at,
It shall make thee come down."
Then he put on the .old man's cloak,
Was patched black, blew, and red;
He thought no shame all the day long
To wear the bags of bread.
39
Ballady
l
Ne plach', staruha! Doroga
Mne staraya hleb-sol'".
SHel Robin Gud, shel v Nottingem,-
Zelen klen, zelen dub, zelen vyaz...
Glyadit: v meshkah i v uzelkah
Palomnik sedovlas.
"Kakie novosti, starik?"
- "O ser, grustnee net:
Segodnya treh mladyh strelkov
Kaznyat vo cvete let".
"Starik, symaj-ka svoj naryad,
A sam pojdesh' v moem.
Vot sorok shillingov v ladon'
CHekannym serebrom".
"Vash - maya mesyaca novej,
Semu zhe mnogo zim...
O ser! Nigde i nikogda
Ne smejtes' nad sedym!"
"Koli ne hochesh' serebrom,
YA zolotom gotov.
Vot zolota tebe koshel',
CHtob vypit' za strelkov!"
Nadel on shlyapu starika,-
CHut'-chut' ponizhe krysh.
"Hot' ty i vyshe golovy,
A pervaya sletish'! "
I starikov on plashch nadel -
Hvosty da loskuty.
Vidat', ego vladelec gnal
Sovety suety!
40
Ballads
Then he put on the old man's breeks,
Was patched from ballup to side;
"By the truth of my body," bold Robin can say,
"This man loved little pride."
Then he put on the old man's hose,
Were patched from knee to wrist;
"By the truth of my body," said bold Robin Hood,
"I'd laugh if I had any list."
Then he put on the old man's shoes,
Were patched both beneath and aboon;
Then Robin Hood swore a solemn oath,
It 's good habit that makes a man.
Now Robin Hood is to Nottingham gone,
With a link a down and a down,
And there he met with the proud sheriff,
Was walking along the town.
"0 save, 0 save, 0 sheriff," he said,
"0 save, and you may see!
And what will you give to a silly old man
To-day will your hangman be?"
"Some suits, some suits," the sheriff he said,
"Some suits I 'll give to thee;
Some suits, some suits, and pence thirteen
To-day's a hangman's fee."
Then Robin he turns him round about,
And jumps from stock to stone;
"By the truth of my body," the sheriff he said,
"That's well jumpt, thou nimble old man."
"I was ne'er a hangman in all my life,
Nor yet intends to trade;
But curst be he," said bold Robin,
"That first a hangman was made.
41
Ballady
Vlez v starikovy on shtany.
"Nu, ded, shutit' zdorov!
Klyanus' dushoj, chto ne shtany
Na mne, a ten' shtanov!"
Vlez v starikovy on chulki.
"Priznajsya, piligrim,
CHto dedy-pradedy tvoi
V nih shli v Ierusalim! "
Dva- bashmaka nadel: odin -
CHut' zhiv, drugoj - dyryav.
""Odezhda delaet gospod".
Gotov. Neploh ya - graf!
Marsh, Robin Gud! Marsh v Nottingem!
Robin, gip! Robin, gep! Robin, gop! "
Vdol' gorodskoj steny sherif
Progulivaet zob.
"O, snizojdite, dobryj ser,
Do pros'by ust moih!
CHto mne dadite, dobryj ser,
Kol' vzdernu vseh troih?"
"Vo-pervyh, tri obnovki dam
S udalogo plecha,
Eshche - trinadcat' pensov dam
I zvan'e palacha".
Robin, sherifa obezhav,
Skok! i na kamen' - pryg!
"Zapisyvajsya v palachi!
Preshustryj ty starik!"
"YA vek svoj ne byl palachom;
Mechta moih nochej:
Sto viselic v moem, sadu -
I vse dlya palachej!
42
Ballads
"I've a bag for meal, and a bag for malt,
And a bag for barley and corn;
A bag for bread, and a bag for beef,
And a bag for my little small horn.
"I have a horn in my pocket,
I got it from Robin Hood,
And still when I set it to my mouth,
For thee it blows little good."
"0 wind thy horn, thou proud fellow,
Of thee I have no doubt;
I wish that thou give such a blast
Till both thy eyes fall out."
The first loud blast that he did blow,
He blew both loud and shrill;
A hundred and fifty of Robin Hood's men
Came riding over the hill.
The next loud blast that he did give,
He blew both loud and amain,
And quickly sixty of Robin Hood's men
Came shining over the plain.
"0 who are yon," the sheriff he said,
"Come tripping over the lee?"
"Th're my attendants," brave Robin did say,
"They'll pay a visit to thee."
They took the gallows from the slack,
They set it in the glen,
They hanged the proud sheriff on that,
Released their own three men.
43
Ballady
CHetyre u menya meshka:
V tom solod, v tom zerno
Noshu, v tom - myaso, v tom - muku,-
I vse pusty ravno.
No est' eshche odin meshok:
Glyadi - goroj razdut!
V nem rog lezhit, i etot rog
Vruchil mne Robin Gud".
"Trubi, trubi, Robinov drug,
Trubi v Robinov rog!
Da tak, chtob ochi von iz yam,
CHtob skuly von iz shchek!"
Byl roga pervyj zov kak grom!
I - molniej k nemu -
Sto Robingudovyh lyudej
Predstalo na holmu.
Byl sleduyushchij zov - to rat'
Szyvaet Robin Gud.
So vseh storon, vo ves' opor
Mchit Robingudov lyud.
"No kto zhe vy? - sprosil sherif,
CHut' zhiv.- Otkol' vzyalis'?"
- "Oni - moi, a ya Robin,
A ty, sherif, molis'!"
Na viselice zloj sherif
Visit. Pen'ka krepka.
Pod viselicej, na luzhku,
Tancuyut tri strelka.
Perevod M. I. Cvetaevoj
44
Ballads
5. QUEEN ELEANOR'S CONFESSION
The Queen's faen sick, and very, very sick,
Sick, and going to die,
And she's sent for twa friars of France,
To speak with her speedilie.
The King he said to the Karl Marischal,
To the Earl Marischal said he,
The Queen she wants twa friars frae France,
To speak with her presentlie.
Will ye,put on a friar's coat,
And I 'll put on another,
And we 'll go in before the Queen,
Like friars. both together.
'But 0 forbid,' said the Earl Marischal,
'That I this deed should dee1
For it I beguile Eleanor our Queen,
She will gar hang me hie.'
The King he turned him round about,
An angry man was he;
He 's sworn by his sceptre and his sword
Earl Marischal should not die. '
The King has put on a friar's coat,
Earl Marischal on another,
And they went in before the Queen,
Like friars both together.
'0, if ye be twa friars of France,
Ye 're dearly welcome to me;
But if ye be twa London friars,
I will gar hang you hie.'
45
Ballady
5. 'KOROLEVA |LINOR
,Koroleva Britanii tyazhko bol'na,
Dni i nochi ee sochteny.
I pozvat' ispovednikov prosit ona
Iz rodnoj, iz francuzskoj strany.
No poka iz Parizha popov privezesh',
Koroleve nastanet konec...
I korol' posylaet dvenadcat' vel'mozh
Lorda-marshala zvat' vo dvorec.
On verhom priskakal k svoemu korolyu
I koleni sklonit' pospeshil.
- O korol', ya proshchen'ya, proshchen'ya molyu,
Esli v chem-nibud' sogreshil!
- YA klyanus' tebe zhizn'yu i tronom svoim:
Esli ty vinovat predo mnoj,
Iz dvorca moego ty ujdesh' nevredim
I proshchennyj vernesh'sya domoj.
Tol'ko plashch franciskanca na pancir' naden'.
YA odenus' i sam, kak monah.
Korolevu Britanii zavtrashnij den'
Ispovedovat' budem v grehah!
Rano utrom korol' i lord-marshal tajkom
V korolevskuyu cerkov' poshli,
I kadili vdvoem, i chitali psalom,
Zazhigaya lampad fitili.
A potom poveli ih v pokoi dvorca,
Gde bol'naya lezhala v bredu.
S dvuh storon podstupili k nej dva cherneca,
Toroplivo krestyas' na hodu.
Ballads
'Twa friars of France, twa friars of France,
Twa friars of France are::e,
And we vow we never spoke to a man
Till we spake to Your Majesty.'
' fhe first great sin that eer i did,
And I 'll tell you it presentlie,
Earl Marischal got my maidenhead,
When coming oer the sea.'
'That was a sin, and a very great sin,
But pardoned it may be,"
'All that with amendment,' said Earl Marischal,
'But a quacking heart had he.
'The next great sin that eer I did,
I 'll tell you it presentlie;
I carried a box seven years in my breast,
To poison King Henrie.'
'0 that was a sin, and a very great sin,
But pardoned it may be,"
'All that with amendment,' said Earl Marischal,
But a quacking heart had he.
'The next great sin that eer I did,
I 'll tell you it presentlie;
I poisoned the Lady Rosamond,
And a very good woman was she.
'See ye not yon twa bonny boys,
As they play at the ba?
The eldest of them is Marischal's son,
And I love him best of a';
The youngest of them is Henrie's son,
And I love him none at a'.
'For he is headed like a bull, a bull,
He is backed like a boar,"
47
Ballady
- Vy iz Francii oba, svyatye otcy? -
Prosheptala zhena korolya.
- Koroleva,- skazali v otvet chernecy,-
My segodnya soshli s korablya!
- Esli tak, ya pokayus' pred vami v grehah
I vernu sebe mir i pokoj!
- Kajsya, kajsya! - pechal'no otvetil monah.
- Kajsya, kajsya! - otvetil drugoj.
- YA nevernoj zhenoyu byla korolyu.
|to pervyj i tyagostnyj greh.
Desyat' let ya lyubila i nynche lyublyu
Lorda-marshala bol'she, chem vseh!
No segodnya, o bozhe, pokayus' v grehah,
Ty pred smert'yu menya ne pokin'!..
- Kajsya, kajsya! - surovo otvetil monah.
A drugoj otozvalsya: - Amin'!
- Zimnim vecherom rovno tri goda nazad
V etot kubok iz hrustalya
YA ukradkoj za uzhinom vsypala yad,
CHtoby vslast' napoit' korolya.
No segodnya, o bozhe, pokayus' v grehah,
Ty pred smert'yu menya ne pokin'!..
- Kajsya, kajsya! - ugryumo otvetil monah.
A drugoj otozvalsya; - Amin'!
- Rodila ya v zamuzhestve dvuh synovej,
Starshij princ i horosh i prigozh,
Ni licom, ni umom, ni otvagoj svoej
Na uroda otca ne pohozh.
A drugoj moj malyutka pleshiv, kak otec,
Kosoglaz, kosolap, krivonog! ..
48
Ballads
'Then by my sooth,' King Henrie said,.
'I love him the better therefor.'
The King has cast off his friar's coat,
Put on a coat of gold;
The Queen she's turned her face about,
She could not 's face behold.
The King then said to Earl Marischal,
To the Earl Marischal said he,
Were it not for my sceptre and sword,
Earl Marischal, ye should die.
49
- Zamolchi! - zakrichal kosoglazyj chernec.
Vidno, bol'she terpet' on ne mog.
Otshvyrnul on raspyat'e, i, sbrosivshi s plech
Franciskanskij surovyj naryad,
On predstal pered nej, opirayas' na mech,
Ves' v dospehah ot shei do pyat.
I drugomu abbatu on tiho skazal:
- Bud', otec, blagodaren sud'be!
Esli 6 klyatvoj sebya ya vchera ne svyazal,
Ty by nynche visel na stolbe!
Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
50
Ballads
6. THE GYPSY LADDIE
The gypsies came to our good lord's gate,
And vow but thev sang sweetly!
They sang sae sweet and sae very compleat
That down came the fair lady.
And she came tripping down the stair,
And a' her maids before her;
As soon as they saw her well-far'd face,
They coost the glamer ocr her.
'Gae tak frae me this gay mantile,
A'nd bring to me a plaidie;
For if kith and kin and a' had sworn,
I 'll follow the gypsie laddie.
'Yestreen I lay in a well-made bed,
And my good lord beside me;
This night I 'll ly in a tenant's barn,
Whatever shall betide me.'
'Come to your bed,' says Johny Faa,
'Oh come to your bed, my deary;
For I vow and I swear, by the hilt of my sword,
That your lord shall nae mair come near ye.'
'I 'll go to bed to my Johny Faa,
I 'll go to bed to my deary;
For I vow and I swear, by what past yestreen,
That my lord shall nae mair come near me.
'I 'll mak a hap to my Johny Faa,
And I 'll mak a hap to my deary;
And he 's get a' the coat gaes round,
And my lord shall nae mair come near me.'
51
Ballady
6. DZHONI FA
(SHotlandskaya napodnaya ballada)
Pred zamkom shumnaya tolpa
Cygan poet, igraet...
Hozyajka zamka vniz soshla
I pesnyam ih vnimaet...
"Pojdem,- skazal ej Dzhoni Fa,-
Krasavica, so mnoyu,
I muzhu ne syskat' tebya,
Ruchayus' golovoyu! .. "
I obnyal pravoyu rukoj
Krasavicu on smelo,
Kol'co na palec Dzhoni Fa
Ona svoe nadela.
"Proshchajte vse - rodnye, muzh!
Sud'ba moya takaya!
Skoree plashch mne, chtob idti
S cyganami mogla ya.
V posteli pyshnoj nochi ya
Zdes' s muzhem provodila;
Teper' v lesu zelenom spat'
YA budu ryadom s milym! "
Vernulsya lord, i v tot zhe mig
Sprosil on, gde supruga.
"Ona s cyganami ushla",-
Otvetila prisluga.
"Sedlat' konej! Nedaleko
Eshche ona otsyuda.
52
Ballads
And when our lord came hame at een,
And speir'd for his fair lady,
The tane she cry'd, and the other reply'd,
'She's away with the gypsie laddie.'
'Gae saddle to me the black, black steed,
Gae saddle and make him ready;
Before that I either eat or sleep,
I 'll gae seek my fair lady.'
And we were fifteen well-made men,
Altho we were nae bonny;
And we were a' put down for ane,
A fair young wanton lady.
53
Ballady
Poka ya ne najdu ee,
Ni pit', ni est' ne budu!"
I sorok vsadnikov lihih
V pogonyu poskakali;
No vse oni do odnogo
V lesu zelenom pali!
Perevod A. N. Pleshcheeva
GeoHrey Chaucer
7. FROM oTHE CANTERBURY TALES"
The Prologue
Whanne that April with his shoures sote
The droughte of March hath perced to the rote,
And bathed every veine in swiche licour,
Of whiche vertue engendred is the flour;
Whan Zephirus eke with his sote brethe
Enspired hath in every holt and hethe
The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
Hath in the Ram his halfe cours yronne,
And smale foules maken melodic,
That slepen alle night with open eye,
So priketh hem nature in hir cortes;
Than longen folk to gon on pilgrimages,
And palmeres for to seken strange strondes,
To serve halwes couthe in sondry londes;
And specially, from every shires ende
Of Englelond, to Canterbury they wende,
The holy blisful martyr for to seke,
That hem hath hdlpen, whan that they were seke.
Befelle, that, in that seson on a day,
In Southwerk at the Tabard as I lay,
Redy to wenden on my pilgrimage
To Canterbury with devoute corage,
At night was come into that hostelrie
Wel nine and twenty in a compagnie
Of sondry folk, by aventure yfalle
In felawship, and pilgrimes were they alle,
That toward Canterbury wolden ride.
The chambres and the stables weren wide,
And we1 we weren esed atte beste.
And shortly, whan the sonne was gon to reste,
So hadde I spoken w.ith hem everich on,
That I was of hir felawship anon,
Dzheffri CHoser
7. KENTERBERIJSKIE RASSKAZY
OBSHCHIJ PROLOG
Kogda Aprel' obil'nymi dozhdyami
Razryhlil zemlyu, vzrytuyu rostkami,
I, martovskuyu zhazhdu utolya,
Ot kornya do zelenogo steblya
Nabuhli zhilki toj vesennej siloj,
CHto v kazhdoj roshche pochki raspustila,
A solnce yunoe v svoem puti
Ves' Ovna znak uspelo obojti,
I, ni na mig v nochi ne zasypaya
Bez umolku zveneli ptich'i stai,
Tak serdce im vstrevozhil zov vesny,-
Togda so vseh koncov rodnoj strany
Palomnikov besschetnyh verenicy
Moshcham zamorskim snova poklonit'sya
Stremilis' istovo; no mnogih vlek
Foma Beket, svyatoj, chto im pomog
V bede il' iscelil nedug starinnyj,
Sam smert' prinyav, kak muchenik bezvinnyj.
Sluchilos' mne v tu poru zavernut'
V harchevnyu "Tabard", v Souerke, svoj put'
Svershaya v Kenterberi po obetu;
Zdes' nenarokom povstrechal ya ztu
Kompaniyu. Ih dvadcat' devyat' bylo.
Cel' obshchaya v puti soedinila
Ih druzhboyu; oni - primer vsem nam -
SHli 'poklonit'sya pravednym moshcham.
Konyushen, komnat v "Tabarde" nemalo,
I nikogda v nem tesno ne byvalo.
Edva obil'nyj uzhin otoshel,
Kak ya uzhe so mnogimi nashel
Znakomyh obshchih ili podruzhilsya
I put' ih razdelit' ugovorilsya,
And made forword erly for to rise,
To take oure way ther as I you devise.
But natheles, while I have time and space,
Or that I forther in this tale pace,
Me thinketh it accordant to reson,
To tellen you alle the condition
Of eche of hem, so as it semed me,
And whiche they weren, and of what degre:
And eke in what araie that they were inne:
And at a knight than wol I firste beginne.
Dzheffri CHoser
I vot, pokuda skromnyj moj rasskaz
Eshche ne utomil ushej i glaz,
Mne kazhetsya, chto bylo by umestno
Vam rasskazat' vse to, chto mne izvestno
O sputnikah moih: kakov ih vid,
I zvanie, i chem kto znamenit
Il' pochemu v zabven'e prebyvaet;
Moj perechen' pust' Rycar' otkryvaet.
Perevod I. A. Kashkina
58
Geoffrey Chaucer
A good wif was ther of beside Bathe,
But she was som del defe, and that was scathe
Of cloth making she hadde swiche an haunt,
She passed hem of Iprcs, and of Gaunt.
In all the parish wif ne was ther non,
That to the offring before hire shulde gon,
And if ther did, cert.ain so wroth was she,
That she was out of alle charitee.
Hire coverchiefs weren ful fine of ground;
I dorste swere, they weyeden a pound;
That on the Sonday were upon hire hede.
Hire hosen weren of fine scarlet rede,
Ful streite yteyed, and shoon ful moist and newe
Bold was hire f.ace, and fayre and rede of hew.
She was a worthy woman all hire live,
Housbondes at the chirche dore had she had five,
Withouten other compagnie in youthe.
But therof nedeth not to speke as nouthe.
And thries hadde she ben at Jerusaleme.
She haddie passed many a strange streme.
At Rome she hadde. ben, and at Boloine,
In Galice at Seint ]ames, and at Coloine.
She. coude moche of wandring by the way.
Gat-r.othed was she, sothly for to say.
Upon an ambler esily she sat,
Ywimpled wel, and on hire hede an hat.
As brode as is a bokeler, or a targe.
A fote-mantel about hire hippes large,
And on hire fete a pair of sporres sharpe.
In felawship we) coude she laughe and carpe
Of remedies o( love she knew parchance,
For of that arte she coude the olde dance.
D~ri CHoser
Tut slavnaya zhena byla iz Bata
Na gluh, k neschast'yu, malost' tugovata.
Ves'ma iskusna v vydelke sukna,
I Ipr, i Gent v nej prevzoshla ona.
Ne smeli prihozhanki pered nej
Vo hrame s leptoj podojti svoej,
I uzh kogda 6 takoe ni sluchilos' -
Bez miloserdiya ona branilas'.
Na nej iz tonkoj tkani pokryvala;
Ona po voskresen'yam nadevala
Vsegda ubor pretyazhkij golovnoj.
Ee chulki natyanuty strunoj,
I novy bashmachki uprugoj kozhi.
Licom bojka, rumyana i prigozha,
S davnishnih por, dostojnaya zhena,
Smenila pyateryh muzhej ona
Kol' yunosti druzhkov zdes' ne schitat';
Nu, da ob etom stoit.li boltat'?
B Ierusalime raza tri byla,
I mnogo rek chuzhih peresekla,
Kel'n, Rim, Bolon'yu takzhe posetila,
V Galmsiyu k Sant-YAgo vstar' hodila,
I v stranstviyah ves'ma ponatorela -
' Nedarom zuby redkie imela.
Na inohodce s lovkost'yu garcuya,
Nosila plashch i shlyapu prebol'shuyu
S polyami, ochen' shodnymi s shchitom;
Sama v prostornom plat'e verhovom,
A na sapozhkah - para ostryh shpor.
Ee byl zhiv i vesel razgovor,
I ot lyubvi ona znavala sredstva,
Ponatorevshi v sih zabavah s detstva.
YU. S. Remennikovoj
Thomas Wyatt
S. THE LOVER'S APPEAL
And wilt thou leave me thus?
Say nap! say nay! for camel
To save thee from the blame
Of all my grief and frame.
And wilt thou leave me thus'?
Say nay! say nap!
And wilt thou leave me thus,
That hath loved thee so long
ln wealth and woe among?
And is thy heart so strong
As for to leave me thus?
Say nay! say nap!
And wilt thou leave me thus.
That hath given thee my heart
Never for to depart
Neither for pain nor smart:
And wilt thou leave me thus?
Sap nay.! say nay!
And wilt thou leave me thus,
And.have no more pity
Of him that loveth chee?
Alas! thy crueltyl
And wilt thou leave me thus?
Say nay! say nayl
Tomas Uajet
8. Ty brosish' li menya?
Skazhi, skazhi, chto net!
tebya l' oslavit svet
Vinoj skorbej i bed?
Ty brosish' li menya?
Skazhi, chto net!
Ty brosish' li menya?
Tvoya l' dusha tverda?
Bogatstvo il' nuzhda -
No ya lyubil vsegda.
Ty brosish' li menya?
Skazhi; chto net!
Ty brosish' li menya?
Hot' rok menya terzal,
Tebya ne pokidal
Tvoj predannyj vassal.
Ty brosish' li menya?
Skazhi, chto net!
Ty brosish' li menya?
V dushe ko mne tepla
Uzhel' ty ne nashla?
O, do chego ty zla!
Ty brosish' li menya?
Skazhi, chto net!
Perevod V. V. Rogova .
Henry Howard Surrey
DESCRIPTION AND PRAISE OF
HIS LOVE GERALDINE
From Tuscane came my Lady's worthy race;
Fair Florence was sometimes her ancient seat:
The western isle, whjse pleasant shore doth face
- Wild Camber's cliffs, did give her lively heat.
Foster'd she was with milk of Irish breast:
Her sire an Earl; her dame of Prince's blood.
From tender years, in Britain she doth rest,
With Kinges child; where she taster.h costly food.
Hunsdon did first present her to mine eyen:
Bright is her hue, and Geraldine she hight.
Hampton me taught to wish her first to mine;
And Windsor, alas! doth chase me from her sight.
Her beauty of kind; her virtues from above;
Happy is he that can obtain her love.
Genri Govard Serrej
sonet
Iz doblestnoj Florencii vedet
Rod gospozhi moej svoe nachalo;
Ee otchizna - ostrov, chto iz vod
Glyadit na Kambrii krutye skaly.
Irlandskaya ee vskormila grud',
Otec byl graf mat' - korolevskoj krovi;
K dvoru privel ee sud'biny put',
Gde vse uslady zhizni nagotove.
Gendston menya predstavil pervyj ej,
Gempton vnushil povedat' Dzhiral'dine
Moyu mechtu nazvat' ee svoej;
A Vindzor zloj nas razluchaet nyne.
Ona podobna angelu v rayu;
Blazhen, komu otdast lyubov' svoyu.
Perevod O. B. Rumera
Edmund Spenser
AMORETTI
10. XIX
The merry cuckow, messenger of spring,
His trumpet shrill hath thrice already sounded,
That warns all lovers wait upon their king,
Who now is coming forth with girland crowned;
With noise whereof the quire of birds resounded
Their anthems sweet, devized of love's praise,
That all the woods their echoes back rebounded,
As if they knew the meaning of their lays:
But 'mongst them all, which did Love's honour raise,
No word was heard of her that most it ought,
But she his precept proudly disobeys,
And doth his idle message set at nought;
Therefore, 0 Love! unless she turn to thee
E'er cuckow end, let her a rebel be.
.11. XXXVII
What guyle is this, that those her golden tresses
She doth attyre under a net .of gold;
And with sly skill so cunningly them dresses,
That which is gold, or heare, may scarse be told?
Is it that mens frayle eyes, which gaze too bold,
She may entangle in that 'golden snare;
And, being caught, may craftily enfold
Theyr weaker haris, which are not wel aware?
Take heed, therefore, myne eyes, how ye doe stare
Henceforth too rashly on that guilefull net,
In which, if ever ye entrapped are,
Out of her hands ye by no meanes shall get.
Fondnesse it were for any, being free,
To covet fetters, though they golden bee!
|dmund Spenser
AMORETTI
10. H1H
Lesnoj kukushki radostnyj rozhok
Trikraty vozvestil vesny yavlen'e,
Napomniv, chto vernulsya yunyj bog
I trebuet ot yunosti sluzhen'ya.
V otvet kukushke zazvuchalo pen'e
Vsej ptich'ej probudivshejsya sem'i,
I les ej ehom vtoril v otdalen'e,
Kak by ponyav, chto znachit zhar v krovi.
Lish' ta, chto pache vseh dolzhna lyubvi
Vozdat' hvalu, ostalas' bezuchastna,
Zamknula guby gordye svoi -
Pevcy vesny vzyvali k nej naprasno.
Lyubov', poka ej chuzhd ih nezhnyj zov,
Prichti ee k chislu svoih vragov.
Perevod A. YA. Sergeeva
1 1. HHHUII
S takim kovarstvom zoloto volos
Na nej pokryla setka zolotaya,
CHto vzoru vryad li razreshit' vopros,
Gde mertvaya krasa i gde zhivaya.
No smel'chaki glyadyat, ne ponimaya,
CHto glaz bessil'nyj kazhdogo obrek
Na to, chto serdce charodejka zlaya
Ulovit totchas v zolotoj silok.
A posemu ya zren'yu dal zarok
Igroj lukavoj ne plenyat'sya bole,
Inache, pozdno raspoznav podlog,
Potom vovek ne vyjti iz nevoli.
Bezumen tot, kto predpochtet vzamen
Svobode - plen, hot' zolotoj, no plen.
Perevod A. YA. Sergeeva
66
Edmund Spenser
12. LXII
The weary yeare his race now having run,
The new begins his compast course anew:
With shew of morning mylde he hath begun,
Betokening peace and plenty to ensew.
So let us, which this chaunge of weather vew,
Chaunge eke our mynds, and former lives amend;
The old yeares sinnes forepast let us eschew,
And fly the,faults with which we did offend.
Then shall the new yeares joy forth freshly send,
Into the glooming world, his gladsome ray:
And all these stormes, which now his b'eauty blend,
Shall turne to caulmes, and tymely cleare away.
So, likewise, Love! cheare you your heavy spright,
And chaunge old yeares annoy to new delight.
67
|dmund Spenser
12. LHII
Okonchil put' ustalyj staryj god,
YAvilsya novyj v utrennem siyan'e
I nachal mernyh dnej krugovorot,
Sulyashchij nam pokoj i procvetan'e.
Ostavim zhe za novogodnej gran'yu
S ushedshej proch' nenastnoyu poroj
Nenast'e dush i greshnye deyan'ya
I zhizni obnovim privychnyj stroj.
Togda vesel'e shchedroyu rukoj
Otmerit miru mrachnomu priroda
I posle bur' podarit nam pokoj
Pod svezhej krasotoyu nebosvoda.
Tak i lyubov' - my s neyu pospeshim
Ot staryh bed k vostorgam molodym.
Perevod A. YA. Sergeeva
Walter Ralegh
13. SIR WALTER RALEGH TO HIS SONNE
Three thinges there bee that prosper up apace
And flourish, whilest they growe a sunder farr,
But on a day, they meet all in one place,
And when they meet, they one an other marr;
And they bee theise, the wood, the weede, the wagg.
The wood is that, which makes the Gallow tree,
The weed is that, which stringes the Hangmans bagg,
The wagg my pritty knave betokeneth thee.
Marke well deare boy whilest theise assemble not"
Green springs the tree, hempe growes, the wagg is wilde,
But when they meet, it makes the timber rott,
It fretts the halter, and it choakes the childe.
Then bless thee, and beware, and lett us praye,
Wee part not with thee at this meeting day.
Uolter Reli
13. SYNU
Tri veshchi est', ne vedayushchih gorya,
Poka sud'ba ih vmeste ne svela.
No nekij den' ih zastigaet v sbore,
I v etot den' im ne ujti ot zla.
He veshchi: roshcha, porosl', podrostok.
Iz lesa v brevnah viselic mosty.
Iz konopli verevki dlya zahlestok.
Povesa zh i podrostok - eto ty.
Zamet', druzhok, im vroz' ne narezvit'sya.
V soku trava, i les, i sorvanec.
No chut' sojdutsya, skripnet polovica,
Strunoj verevka - i yuncu konec.
Pomolimsya zh s toboj ob izbezhan'i
Uchastiya v ih rokovom svidan'i.
Perevod B. L. Pasternaka
Philip Sidney
FROM "ASTRPOPHEL AND STELLA
14. Come, sleep; 0 sleep, the certain knot of peace,
The baiting-place of wit, the balm of woe,
The poor man's wealth, the prisoner's release,
Th' indifferent judge between the high and low!
With shield of proof, shield me from out the prease
Of those fierce darts Despair at me doth throw;
O make in me those civil wars to cease!
I will good tribute pay, if thou do so.
Take thou of me smooth pillow, sweetest bed,
A chamber deaf to noise, and blind to light,
A rosy garland and a weary head;
And if these things, as being thine by right,
Move not thy heavy grace, thou shalt in me,
Livelier than elsewhere, Stella's image see.
Filip Sidni
IZ CIKLA "ASTROFIL I STELLA"
14. Pridi, o Son, zabvenie zabot,
Umu primanka, gorestyam bal'zam,
Svoboda plennym, zlato bednyakam,
Sud'ya besstrastnyj cherni i gospod!
Ot zhguchih strel tvoj shchit menya spaset -
O, vosprepyatstvuj vnutrennim boyam
I ver', chto shchedro ya tebe vozdam,
Kogda prervesh' mezhdousob'ya hod:
Soglasen ya, chtob lozhe ty unes,
Opochival'nyu tihuyu moyu,
I tyazhest' v vezhdah, i girlyandy roz;
A esli vse tebe ya otdayu,
No ne idesh' ty, kak molyu o tom,-
Lik Stelly v serdce pokazhu moem.
Perevod V. V. Rogova
Christopher Marlowe
15. THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD
TO HIS LOVE
Come live with me and be my Love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That hills and valleys, dale and field,
And all the craggy mountains yield.
There will we sit upon the rocks
And see the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madriga1s.
There will I make thee beds of roses
And a thousand fragrant posies,
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle
Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle.
A gown made of the finest wool,
Which from our pretty lambs we pull,
Fair lined slippers for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold.
A belt of straw and ivy buds
With coral clasps and amber studs:
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me and be my Love.
The shepherd swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight each May-morning:
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me and be my Love.
Kristofer Marlo
15. STRASTNYJ PASTUH -
SVOEJ VOZLYUBLENNOJ
Pridi, lyubimaya moya!
S toboj vkushu blazhenstvo ya.
Otkryty nam polej prostor,
Lesa, doliny, kruchi gor.
My syadem u pribrezhnyh skal,
Gde pticy divnyj madrigal
Slagayut v chest' usnuvshih vod
I gde pastuh stada paset.
Pridi! YA plashch ukrashu tvoj
Zelenoj mirtovoj listvoj,
Cvety vpletu ya v shelk volos
I lozhe sdelayu iz roz.
Tonchajshij ya sotku naryad
Iz shersti malen'kih yagnyat.
Zazhgu na bashmakah tvoih
Ogon' zastezhek zolotyh.
Dam poyas myagkij iz plyushcha,
YAntar' dlya pugovic plashcha.
S toboj poznayu schast'e ya,
Pridi, lyubimaya moya!
Dlya nas vesnoyu u reki
Spoyut i splyashut pastushki.
Volnen'e serdca ne taya,
Pridi, lyubimaya moya!
Perevod I. N. ZHdanova
William Shakespeare
SONNETS
16. XXI
So is it not with me as with that Muse,.
Stirr'd by a painted beauty to his verse,
Who heaven itself for ornament doth use,
And every fair with his fair doth rehearse,
Making a couplement of proud compare,
With sun and moon, with earth and sea's rich gems,
With April's first-born flowers, and all things rare
That heaven's air in this huge rondure hems.
0, let me, true in love, but truly write,
And then believe me, my love is as fair
As any mother's child, though not,so-bright
As those gold candles fixt in heaven*s air:
Let them say more that like of hearsay well;
I will not praise that purpose not to sell.
17. LIV
O, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem
By that sweet ornament which truth doth give!
The rose looks fair, but fairer it we deem
For that sweet odour which doth in it live.
The canker-blooms have full as deep a dye
As the perfumed tincture of the roses,
Hang on such thorns, and play as wantonly
When summer's breath their masked buds discloses:
Uil'yam SHekspir
SONETY
16. HHI
Ne sorevnuyus' ya s tvorcami od,
Kotorye raskrashennym boginyam
V podarok prepodnosyat nebosvod
So vsej zemlej i okeanom sinim.
Puskaj 'oni dlya ukrashen'ya strof
Tverdyat v stihah, mezhdu soboyu sporya,
O zvezdah neba, o venkah cvetov,
O dragocennostyah zemli i morya.
V lyubvi i v slove - pravda moj zakon,
I ya pishu, chto milaya prekrasna,
Kak vse, kto smertnoj mater'yu rozhden,
A ne kak solnce ili mesyac yasnyj.
YA ne hochu hvalit' lyubov' moyu,-
YA nikomu ee ne prodayu!
Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
17. EIU
Prekrasnoe prekrasnej vo sto krat,
Uvenchannoe pravdoj dragocennoj.
My v nezhnyh rozah cenim aromat,
V ih purpure zhivushchij sokrovenno.
Pust' u cvetov, gde svil gnezdo porok,
I stebel', i shipy, i list'ya te zhe,
I tak zhe purpur lepestkov glubok,
I tot zhe venchik, chto u rozy svezhej,-
William Shakespeare
But, for their virtue only is their show,
They live unwoo'd, and unrespected fade;
Die to themselves. Sweet roses do not so;
Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odours made.
And so of you, beauteous and lovely youth,
When that shall fade, my verse distills your truth.
18. LXV
Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea,
But sad mortality o'ersways their power,
How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea,
Whose action is no stronger than a flower?
0, how shall summer's honey breath hold out
Against the wrackful siege of battering days,
When rocks impregnable are not so stout,
Nor gates of steel so strong, but Time decays?
0 fearful meditation! where, alack,
Shall Time's best jewel from Time's chest lie hid?
Or what strong hand can hold .his swift foot back?
Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid?
0, none, unless this miracle have might,
That in black ink my love may still shine bright.
19. LXVI
Tired with all these, for restful death I cry,-
As, to behold Desert a beggar born,
And needy Nothing trimm'd in jollity,
77
Uil'yam SHekspir
Oni cvetut, ne raduya serdec,
I vyanut, otravlyaya nam dyhan'e.
A u dushistyh roz inoj konec:
Ih dushu perel'yut v blagouhan'e.
Kogda pogasnet blesk ochej tvoih,
Vsya prelest' pravdy perel'etsya v stih.
Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
18. LHU
Uzh esli med', granit, zemlya i more
Ne ustoyat, kogda pridet im srok,
Kak mozhet ucelet', so smert'yu sporya,
Krasa tvoya - bespomoshchnyj cvetok?
Kak sohranit' dyhan'e rozy aloj,
Kogda osada tyazhkaya vremen
Nezyblemye sokrushaet skaly
I rushit bronzu statuj i kolonn?
O, gor'koe razdum'e!.. Gde, kakoe
Dlya krasoty ubezhishche najti?
Kak, mayatnik ostanoviv rukoyu,
Cvet vremeni ot vremeni spasti? ..
Nadezhdy net. No svetlyj oblik milyj
Spasut, byt' mozhet, chernye chernila!
Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
19. LHUI
Izmuchas' vsem, ya umeret' hochu.
Toska smotret', kak maetsya bednyak,
I kak shutya zhivetsya bogachu,
78
William Shakespeare
And purest Faith unhappily forsworn,
-And gilded Honour shamefully misplaced,
And maiden Virtue rudely strumpeted,
And right Perfection wrongfully disgraced,
And Strength by limping' Sway disabled,
And Art made tongue-tied by Authority,
And Folly, doctor-like, controlling Skill,
And simple Truth miscall'd Simplicity,
And captive Good attending captain Ill:
Tired with all these, from these would I be gone,
Save that, to die, I leave my love alone.
20. LXXIII
That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou see'st the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west;
Which by and by black n'ight doth take away,
Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire,
That on the ashes of his youth doth -lie,
As the death-bed whereon it must expire,
Consumed with that which it was nourisht by.
This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong
To love that well which thod must leave ere long.
21. LXXVII
Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear,
Thy dial how thy precious minutes waste;
The vacant leaves thy mind's imprint will bear,
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Uil'yam SHekspir
I doveryat', i popadat' vprosak,
I nablyudat', kak naglost' lezet v svet,
I chest' devich'ya katitsya ko dnu,
I znat', chto hodu sovershenstvam net,
I videt' moshch' u nemoshchi v plenu,
I vspominat', chto mysli zatknut rot,
I razum snosit gluposti hulu,
I pryamodush'e prostotoj slyvet,
I dobrota prisluzhivaet zlu.
Izmuchas' vsem, ne stal by zhit' i dnya,
Da drugu trudno budet bez menya.
Perevod B. L. Pasternaka
20. LHHIII
To vremya goda vidish' ty vo mne,
Kogda iz list'ev redko gde kakoj,
Drozha, zhelteet v vetok golizne,
A ptichij svist vezde smenil pokoj...
Vo mne ty vidish' blednyj kraj nebes,
Gde ot zakata pamyatka odna,
I, postepenno vzyavshi pereves,
Ih opechatyvaet temnota.
Vo mne ty vidish' to sgoran'e pnya,
Kogda zola, chto plamenem byla,
Stanovitsya mogiloyu ognya,
A to, chto grelo, izoshlo dotla,
I eto vidya, pomni: net ceny
Svidan'yam, dni kotoryh sochteny.
Perevod B. L, Pasternaka
21. LHHUII
Sediny vashi zerkalo pokazhet,
CHasy - poteryu zolotyh minut.
Na beluyu stranicu strochka lyazhet -
I vashu mysl' uvidyat i prochtut.
80
William Shakespeare
And of this book this learning mayst thou taste.
The wrinkles which thy glass will truly show,
Of mouthed graves will give thee memory;
Thou by thy dial's shady stealth mayst know
Time's thievish progress to eternity.
Look, what thy memory cannot contain,
Commit to these waste blanks, and thou shalt find
Those children nursed, deliver'd from thy brain,
To take a new acquaintance of thy mind.
These offices, so oft as thou wilt look,
Shall profit thee, and much enrich thy book.
22. XC
Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now;
Now, while the world is bent my deeds to cross,
Join with the spite of fortune, make me bow,
And do not drop in for an after-loss:
Ah, do not, when my heart hath 'scaped this sorrow,
Come in the rearward of a conquer'd woe;
Give not a windy night a rainy morrow,
To linger out a purposed overthrow.
If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last,
When other petty griefs have done their spite,
But in the onset come: so shall I taste
At first the very worst of fortune's might;
And other strains of woe, which now seem woe,
Compared with loss of thee will not seem so.
81
Uil'yam SHekspir
Po chertochkam morshchin v stekle pravdivom
My vse vedem svoim utratam schet.
A v shorohe chasov netoroplivom
Ukradkoj vremya k vechnosti techet.
Zapechatlejte beglymi slovami
Vse, chto ne v silah pamyat' uderzhat'.
Svoih detej, davno zabytyh vami,
Kogda-nibud' vy vstretite opyat'.
Kak chasto eti najdennye stroki
Dlya nas tayat bescennye uroki.
Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
22. HS
Uzh esli ty razlyubish',- tak teper',
Teper', kogda ves' mir so mnoj v razdore.
Bud' samoj gor'koj iz moih- poter',
No tol'ko ne poslednej kaplej gorya!
I esli skorb' dano mne prevozmoch',
Ne nanosi udara iz zasady.
Pyst' burnaya ne razreshitsya noch'
Dozhdlivym utrom - utrom, bez otrady.
Ostav' menya, no ne v poslednij mig,
Kogda ot melkih bed ya oslabeyu.
Ostav' sejchas, chtob srazu ya postig,
CHto eto gore vseh nevzgod bol'nee,
CHto net nevzgod, a est' odna beda -
Tvoej lyubvi lishit'sya navsegda.
Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
82
William Shakespeare
23. CXVI
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O, nol it is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests, and is never shaken,
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error, and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
24. C XXX
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral.is. far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damaskt, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more. pleasing sound:
I'grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
83
Uil'yam SHekspir
23. SHUI
Meshat' soedinen'yu dvuh serdec
YA ne nameren. Mozhet li izmena
Lyubvi bezmernoj polozhit' konec?
Lyubov' ne znaet ubyli i tlena.
Lyubov' - nad burej podnyatyj mayak,
Ne merknushchij vo mrake i tumane, .
Lyubov' - zvezda, kotoroyu moryak
Opredelyaet mesto v okeane.
Lyubov' - ne kukla zhalkaya v rukah
U vremeni, stirayushchego rozy
Na plamennyh ustah i na shchekah,
I ne strashny ej vremeni ugrozy.
A esli ya ne prav i lzhet moj stih,-
To net lyubvi i net stihov moih!
Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
24. SHHH
Ee glaza na zvezdy ne pohozhi,
Nel'zya usta korallami nazvat',
Ne belosnezhna plech otkrytyh kozha,
I chernoj provolokoj v'etsya pryad'.
S damasskoj rozoj, aloj ili beloj,
Nel'zya sravnit' ottenok -etih shchek.
A telo pahnet tak, kak pahnet telo,
Ne kak fialki nezhnyj lepestok.
Ty ne najdesh' v nej sovershennyh linij,
Osobennogo sveta na chele.
Ne znayu ya, kak shestvuyut bogini,
No milaya stupaet po zemle.
I vse zh ona ustupit tem edva li,
Kogo v sravnen'yah pyshnyh obolgali.
Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
84
William Shakespeare
FROM oTHE TRAGICAL HISTORY OF HAMLET,
PRINCE OF DENMARK"
0! that this too too solid flesh would melt
Thaw and resolve itself into a dew;
Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd
His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! O God!
How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable
Seem to me all the uses of this world!
Fie on't! ah fie! 'tis an unweeded garden,
That grows to seed! things rank and gross in nature
Possess it merely. That it should come to this!
But two months dead! nay, not so much, not two:
So excellent a king; that was, to this,
Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother
That he might not beteem the winds of heaven
Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth!
Must I remember? why, she would hang on him
As if increase of appetite had grown
By what it fed on; and yet, within a month -
Let me not think on't.- Frailty, thy name is woman!
A little month! or ere those shoes were old
With which she follow'd my poor father's body,
Like Niobe, all tears; why she, even she,-
0 God! a beast, that wants discourse of reason,
Would have mourn'd longer,- married with my uncle,
My father's brother, but no more like my father
Than I to Hercules. Within a month?
Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears
Had left the flushing in her galled eyes,
She married. 0, most wicked speed, to post
With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!
It is not nor it cannot come to good;
But break my heart, for I must hold my tongue!
85
Uil'yam SHekspir
TRAGEDIYA O GAMLETE, PRINCE DATSKOM
25. O, esli 6 etot plotnyj sgustok myasa
Rastayal, sginul, izoshel rosoj!
Il' esli by predvechnyj ne ustavil
Zapret samoubijstvu! Bozhe! Bozhe!
Kakim dokuchnym, tusklym i nenuzhnym
Mne kazhetsya vse, chto ni est' na svete!
O merzost'! |to bujnyj sad, plodyashchij
Odno lish' semya; dikoe i zloe
V nem vlastvuet. Do etogo dojti!
Dva mesyaca, kak umer! Men'she dazhe.
Takoj dostojnejshij korol'! Sravnit' ih -
Feb i satir. On mat' moyu tak nezhil,
CHto vetram neba ne dal by kosnut'sya
Ee lica. O nebo i zemlya!
Mne l' vspominat'? Ona k nemu tyanulas',
Kak esli b golod tol'ko vozrastal
Ot nasyshcheniya. A cherez mesyac,-
Ne dumat' by ob etom! Brennost', ty
Zovesh'sya: zhenshchina! - i bashmakov
Ne iznosiv, v kotoryh shla za grobom,
Kak Niobeya, vsya v slezah,- ona -
O bozhe, zver', lishennyj razumen'ya,
Skuchal by dol'she! - zamuzhem za dyadej,
Kotoryj na otca pohozh ne bole,
CHem ya na Gerkulesa. CHerez mesyac!
Eshche i sol' ee beschestnyh slez
Na pokrasnevshih vekah ne ischezla,
Kak vyshla zamuzh. Gnusnaya pospeshnost' -
Tak brosit'sya na odr krovosmeshen'ya!
Net i ne mozhet v etom byt' dobra,-
No smolkni, serdce, skovan moj yazyk!
Perevod M. L. Lozinskogo
86
William Shakespeare
26. To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind- to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? - To die; - To sleep; -
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh 'is heir to,- 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die; - to sleep; -
To sleep! perchance to dream: - ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of dispised love; the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would these fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pitch and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.
87
Uil'yam SHekspir
* * *
26. Byt' ili ne byt' - takov vopros;
CHto blagorodnej duhom - pokoryat'sya
Prashcham i strelam yarostnoj sud'by
Il', opolchas' na more smut, srazit' ih
Protivoborstvom? Umeret', usnut' -
I tol'ko; i skazat', chto snom konchaesh'
Tosku i tysyachu prirodnyh muk,
Nasled'e ploti,- kak takoj razvyazki
Ne zhazhdat'? Umeret', usnut'.- Usnut'!
I videt' sny, byt' mozhet? Vot v chem trudnost';
Kakie sny prisnyatsya v smertnom sne, .
Kogda my sbrosim etot brennyj shum,-
Vot chto sbivaet nas; vot gde prichina
Togo, chto bedctviya tak dolgovechny;
Kto snes by pleti i glumlen'e veka,
Gnet sil'nogo, nasmeshku gordeca,
Bol' prezrennoj lyubvi, sudej medlivost',
Zanoschivost' vlastej. i oskorblen'ya,
CHinimye bezropotnoj zasluge,
Kogda b on sam mog dat' sebe raschet
Prostym kinzhalom? Kto by plelsya s noshej,
CHtob ohat' i potet' pod nudnoj zhizn'yu,
Kogda by strah chego-to posle smerti -
Bezvestnyj kraj, otkuda net vozvrata
Zemnym skital'cam,- volyu ne smushchal,
Vnushaya nam terpet' nevzgody nashi
I ne speshit' k drugim, ot nas sokrytym?
Tak trusami nas delaet razdum'e,
I tak reshimosti prirodnyj cvet
Hireet pod naletom mysli blednym,
I nachinan'ya, vznesshiesya moshchno,
Svorachivaya v storonu svoj hod,
Teryayut imya dejstviya. No tishe!
Ofeliya? - V tvoih molitvah, nimfa,
Da vspomnyatsya moi grehi.
Perevod M. L. Lozinskogo
Thomas Campion
FROM "A BOOKE OF AYRES"
27. When thou must home to shades of under ground,
.And there ariu'd, a newe admired guest,
The beauteous spirits do ingirt thee round,
White lope, blith Helen, and the rest,
To heare the stories of thy finisht loue
From that smoothe,toong whose musicke hell can moue;
Then wilt thou speake of banqueting delights-,
Of masks and reuels which sweete youth did make,
Of Turnies and great challenges of knights,
And all these triumphes for thy beauties sake:
When thou hast told these honours done to thee,
Then tell, 0 tell, how thou didst murther me.
Tomas Kempion
KNIGA PESEN
27. Kogda tvoj srok pridet v zhilishche tenej,
I k nim sojdya, ty gost'ej vstupish' v krug
Tvoim slovam vnimayushchih videnij -
Eleny carstvennoj, Iopy i podrug,-
Slovam, chto ad razzhalobit' mogli b,
O tom, kak vek lyubvi tvoej pogib.'
Ty pirshestva zahochesh' perechest',
Baly i maski - yunosti zabavu
I vse, chto lish' v tvoyu tvorili chest',
Vse podvigi, krasy tvoej vo slavu.
No char svoih im rasskazavshi silu,
Skazhi, skazhi, kak ty menya sgubila.
Perevod I. A. Lihacheva
Ben Jonson
28. FROM "THE SAD SHEPHERD, OR A TALE
OF ROBIN HOOD"
Though I am young, and cannot tell,
Either what Death or Love is, well,
Yet I have heard they both bear darts
And both do aim at human hearts:
And then again, I have been told,
Love wounds with heat, as Death with cold;
So that I fear they do but bring
Extremes to touch, and mean one thing.
As in a ruin we it call
One thing to be blown up, or fall;
Or to our end, like way may have,
By flash of lightning, or a wave:
So Love's infamed shaft, or brand,
May kill as soon as Death's cold hand;
Except Love's fires the virtue have
To fright the frost out of the grave.
Ben Dzhonson
28. LYUBOVX I SMERTX
Mne l' v leta yunye moi.
Sudit' o Smerti i Lyubvi?
No ya slyhal, chto strely ih
Opasny dlya serdec lyudskih;
Nas odinakovo razyat
I zhar Lyubvi, t Smerti hlad -
Oni, hot' oblik ih ne shozh,
Gotovyat nam odno i to zh.
Gubitel'na lyubaya chast' -
Byt' vzorvannym il' v bezdnu past';
Udarit grom, plesnet volna
A paguba ot nih odna;
I tak ravny Lyubvi ogon'
I Smerti hladnaya ladon',
No vse zh Lyubvi sposoben pyl
Moroz prognat' iz t'my mogil.
Perevod V. V. Rogova
John Donne
29. THE GOOD-MORROW
I wonder by my troth, what thou, and I
Did, till we lov'd? were we not wean'd till then?
But suck'd on countrey pleasures, childishly?
Or snorted we in the seaven sleepers den?
'Twas so; But this, all pleasures fancies bee.
If ever any beauty I did see,
Which I desir'd, and got, 'twas but a dreame of thee.
And now good morrow to our waking soules,
Which watch not. one another out of feare;
For love, all love of other sights controules,
And makes one little roome, an every where.
Let sea-discoverers to new worlds have gone,
Let Maps to others, worlds on worlds have showne,
Let us possesse one world, each hath one, and is orre.
My face in thine eye, thine in mine appeares,
And true plaine hearts doe in the faces rest,
Where can we finde two better hemispheares
Without sharpe North, without declining. West?
What ever dyes, was not mixt equally;
If our two loves be one, or thou and I
Love so alike, that none doe slacken, none can die.
30. SONG
Goe, and catch a falling starre,
Get with child a mandrake roote,
Tell me, where all past yeares are,
DZHON DONN
29. S DOBRYM UTROM
Do dnej lyubvi chem byli my s toboj?
Nas budto ot grudi ne otluchali.
Il' teshilis' my detskoyu igroj,
Ili v Peshchere Semeryh my spali?
No bylo eto vse nichem dlya nas,-
YA krasotu uvidel v pervyj raz
V tot chas, kak vstretil vzglyad tvoih zhelannyh glaz.
A nynche "S dobrym utrom!" govorim
My dusham, v strahe zamershim smyatenno;
Lyubov' ves' mir nam delaet chuzhim
I komnatku nam delaet vselennoj.
' Puskaj, plyvya na zapad, moryaki
Otkroyut novye materiki,-
Dlya nas est' mir odin, gde my s toboj blizki!
Moj lik v tvoih glazah, a tvoj - v moih,
I vernym dvum serdcam zdes' tak chudesno!
CHto luchshe etih gemisfer? Ved' v nih
Net vihrej norda, ugasan'ya vesta.
CHto smeshano sluchajno, to umret.
No esli dve lyubvi v odnu svedet
Sud'ba, to, znachit, nas v vekah bessmert'e zhdet.
Perevod B. B. Tomashevskogo
30. PESNYA
|j, lovi, letit zvezda!
Mandragoru soblazni ty!
Gde minuvshie goda?
94
John Donne
Or who cleft the Divels foot,
Teach me to heare Mermaides singing,
Or to keep off envies stinging,
And finde
What winde
Serves to advance an honest minde.
If thou beest borne to strange sights,
Things invisible to see,
Ride ten thousand daies and nights,
Till age snow white haires on thee,
Thou, when thou retorn'st, wilt tell mee
All strange wonders that befell thee,
And sweare
No where
Lives a woman true, and faire.
If thou findst one, let mee know,
Such a Pilgrimage were sweet;
Yet doe not, I would not goe,
Though at next doore wee might meet,
Though shee were true, when you met her,
And last, till you write your letter,
Yet shee
Will bee
False, ere I come, to two, or three.
31. A VALEDICTION: FORBIDDING MOURNING
As virtuous men passe mildly away,
And whisper to their soules, to goe,
Whilst some of their sad friends doe say,
The breath goes now, and some say, no:
So let us melt, and make no noise,
No teare-floods, nor sigh-tempests move,
T'were prophanation of our joyes
To tell the layetie our love.
DZHON DONN
CHertu kto rassek kopyto?
Pesn' siren ponyat' sumej,
Zmeya zavisti ubej!
Gde na svete
Veet veter,
CHto privetom chestnyh vstretit?
I uzh esli ty rozhden
Dlya chudes i otkrovenij,
V put' stupaj skvoz' dal' vremen,
CHtob postignut' smysl yavlenij...
Ty vernesh'sya v sedinah
Vozvestit' o chudesah...
Pust' vnimayut
Vse i znayut:
Vernyh zhenshchin ne byvaet.
Esli b hot' nashlas' odna,
Vzyal by posoh piligrima...
Esli skazhut: zdes' ona,-
YA projdu spokojno mimo.
Bud' hot' angel chistoty,
No, poka mne pishesh' ty,
Ta devica
Umudritsya
Do menya s tremya slyubit'sya.
Perevod B. B. Tomashevskogo
31. PROSHCHANIE, ZAPRESHCHAYUSHCHEE PECHALX
Dushi smirennejshej v nochi
Uhoda lyudi ne uslyshat:
Tak tih on, chto odni "pochil"
Promolvyat, a drugie - "dyshit".
Rasstat'sya b tak vot, rastvoryas'
Vo mgle,- ne placha ni o chem, nam;
Koshchunstvom bylo b tajny vyaz'
Predat' tolpe neposvyashchennoj.
John Donne
Moving of th'earth brings harmes and feares,
Men reckon what it did and meant,
But trepidation of the spheares,
Though greater farre, is innocent.
Dull sublunary lovers love
(Whose soule is sense) cannot admit
Absence, because it doth remove
Those things which elemented it.
But we by a love, so much refin'd,
That our selves know not what it is,
Inter-assured of the mind,
Care lesse, eyes, lips and hands to misse.
Our two soules therefore, which are one,
Though I must goe, endure not yet
A breach, but an expansion,
Like gold to ayery thinnesse beate.
If they be two, they are two so
As stiffe twin compasses are two,
Thy soule the fixt foot, makes no show
To move, but doth, if th'other doe.
And though it in the center sit,
Yet when the other far doth rome,
It leanes, and hearkens af'ter it,
And growes erect, as that comes home.
Such wilt thou be to mee, who must
Like th'other foot, obliquely runne;
Thy firmnes makes my circle just,
And makes me end, where I begunne.
97
Dzhon Donn
Zemli tryasen'e ustrashit:
Obvalu kazhdyj uzhasnetsya,
No, esli gde-to drognet shir'
Nebes, nichto nas ne kosnetsya.
Tak i lyubov' potryasena
Zemnaya - i ne vspyhnet snova -
Razlukoj: podorvet ona
Ee stolpy, ee osnovy.
A nam, kotorye vzvilis'
V takuyu vys' nad strast'yu gruboj,
CHto sami dazhe 6 ne vzyalis'
Nazvat'...chto nam glaza i guby?
Ih tlen soyuz nash ne predast,
Ujdut oni, - no ne umret on:
Kak zolota tonchajshij plast,
On tol'ko shiritsya pod gnetom.
I esli dush. v nem dve, vzglyani,
Kak tyanutsya oni drug k drugu:
Kak nozhki cirkulya oni
V predelah vse togo zhe kruga.
O, kak sledit revnivo ta,
CHto v centre, za drugoj kruzhen'em,
A posle, vypryamlyaya stan,
Ee vstrechaet priblizhen'e.
Pust' moj po krugu put' dalek
I klonit dolu shag prevratnyj,
Est' ty - opora i zalog
Togo, chto ya vernus' obratno.
Perevod A. M. SHadrina
Robert Herrick
52. THE MAD MAID'S SONG
Good-morrow to the day so fair,
Good-morning, sir, to you;
Good-morrow to mine own torn hair
Bedabbled with the dew.
Good-morning to this primrose too,
Good-morrow to each maid
That will with flowers the tomb bestrew
Wherein my love is laid.
. Ah! woe is me, woe, woe is me!
Alack and well-a-day!
For pity, sir, find out that bee
Which bore my love away.
I'll seek him in your bonnet brave,
I'll seek him in your eyes;
Nay, now I think they've made his grave
I' th' bed of strawberries.
I'll seek him there; I know ere this
The cold, cold earth doth shake him;
But I will go, or send a kiss
By you, sir, to awake him.
Pray hurt him not; though he be dead,
He knows well who do love him,
And who with green turfs rear his head,
And who do rudely move him.
He's soft and tender (pray take heed);
With bands of cowslips bind him,
And bring him home - but 'tis decreed
That I shall never find him!
Robert Gerrik
32. PESNYA BEZUMNOJ DEVY
Ah, ser, blagoslovi Hristos
I utro goluboe,
I kosmy vsklochennyh volos,
Pokrytye rosoyu;
Blagoslovi i pervocvet,
I kazhduyu devicu,
CHto ot menya kladet buket
Na miluyu grobnicu;
I vas, moj dobryj kavaler...
No, ah, kakaya zhalost' -
Vy upustili muhu, ser,
A s nej lyubov' umchalas'.
No muha ukusila vas,
I vzory vashi diki...
Net-net, lyubov' lezhit sejchas
Pod gryadkoj zemlyaniki:
Tomitsya holodom zemli,
Nedvizhnost'yu, molchan'em;
A vy by ozhivit' mogli
Ee odnim lobzan'em.
No, ser, pomyagche, ponezhnej -
Ne to ej budet bol'no;
Nel'zya zhe obrashchat'sya s nej
Vse vremya svoevol'no!
Oplel bednyazhku pervocvet;
|h, vam by postarat'sya
Ee vernut'... No tut zapret,
I nam ne uvidat'sya.
Perevod A. YA. Sergeeva
George Herbert
33. VERTUE
Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright,
The bridall of the earth and skie:
The dew shall weep thy fall to night;
For thou must die.
Sweet rose, whose hue angrie and brave
Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye:
Thy root is ever in its grave,
And thou must die.
Sweet spring, full of sweet dayes and roses,
A box where sweets compacted lie;
My musick shows ye have your closes,
And all must die.
Onely a sweet and vertuous soul,
Like season'd timber, never gives;
But though the whole world turn to coal,
Then chiefly lives.
Dzhordzh Gerbert .
zz. dobrodetel'
Den' tihij, solnechnyj, otradnyj,
S zemleyu obruchivshij tverd'.
Rosa tvoj son oplachet hladnyj,
Tebya zhdet smert'.
I ty, o larchik nachinennyj
Cvetushchej sladost'yu,- vesna
Na smert' pod golos pohoronnyj
Osuzhden
I ty, cvetok, chto aloj siloj
Do slez inogo dovedesh',
Tvoj koren' obruchen s mogiloj
- I ty umresh'
Lish' duh, vkusivshyj dobrodetel',
Kak dub morenyj, ne gniet,
No, tlen'ya obshchego svidetel',
V vekah zhivet
I A. Lihacheva
Edmund Waller
54. ON A GIRDLE
That which her slender waist confined
Shall now my joyful temples bind;
No monarch but would give his crown
His arms might do what this has done.
It was my Heaven's extremest sphere,
The pale which held that lovely dear:
My joy, my grief, my hope, my love
Did all within this circle move.
A narrow compass! and yet there
Dwelt all that's good, and all that's fair:
Give me but what this ribbon bound,
Take all the rest the Sun goes round!
|dmund Uoller
34. POYAS
Ee korotkij poyasok
Puskaj szhimaet moj visok.
On - korolevskij moj venec,
Kakih ne videl i dvorec.
On byl do nyneshnego dnya
Nebesnoj sferoj dlya menya.
Moyu nadezhdu, moj nedug
Szhimal v ob®yat'yah etot krug.
Krug ne shirok, no v nem najdesh'
Vse dobroe, chem svet horosh.
Za to, chto bylo v tom krugu,
YA celyj mir otdat' mogu.
Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
John Milton
55. ON SHAKESPEARE
What needs my Shakespeare for his honour'd Bones,
The 1abour of an age in piled Stones,
Or that his hafiow'd reliques should be hid
Under a Stary-pointing Pyramid?
Dear son of memory, great heir of Fame,
What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name?
Thou in our wonder and astonishment
Hast built thy self a live-long Monument.
For whilst to th' shame of slow-endeavouring art,
Thy easy numbers flow, and that each heart
Hath from the leaves of thy unvalu'd Boot,
Those Delphick lines with deer impression took,
Then thou our fancy of it self bereaviag,
Dost make us Marble with too much conceaving;
And so Sepukher'd in such pomp dost lie,
That Kings for such a Tomb would wish to die.
36 ON HIS BLINDNNESS
When I consider how my light is spent
Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide
Lodged with me useless, though my Soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest He returning chide,-
Doth God exact day-labour, lihght denied?
I fondly ask: - But Patience to prevent
DZHON MILXTON
35. O SHEKSPIRE
Nuzhdaetsya l', pokinuv etot mir,
V trude kamenotesov moj SHekspir,
CHtob v piramide, k zvezdam obrashchennoj,
Tailsya prah, vekami osvyashchennyj?
Naslednik slavy, dlya gryadushchih dnej
Ne prosish' ty svidetel'stva kamnej.
Ty pamyatnik u kazhdogo iz nas
Vozdvig v dushe, kotoruyu potryas.
K pozoru neradivogo iskusstva
Tvoi stihi tekut, volnuya chuvstva.
I v pamyati u nas iz knig tvoih
Ottisnut navsegda del'fijskij stih.
Voobrazhen'e nashe do konca
Pleniv i v mramor prevrativ serdca,
Ty v nih pokoish'sya. Vse koroli
Takuyu chest' by zhizni predpochli!
Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
36. O SLEPOTE
Sonet
Kogda podumayu, chto svet pogas
V moih glazah sredi puti zemnogo
I chto talant, skryvayushchijsya v nas,
Darovan mne naprasno, hot' gotova
Dusha sluzhit' tvorcu i v dolzhnyj chas
Otdat' otchet, ne utaiv ni slova, -
106
John Milton
That murmur, soon replies; God doth not need
Either man's work or His own gifts: who best
Bear His mild yoke, they serve Him best: His state
Is kingly; thousands at His bidding speed
And post o're land and ocean without rest: -
They also serve who only stand and wait.
37. FROM o PARADISE LOST
BOOK III
Hail, holy light, offspring of heav'n first-born
Or of th' Eternal co-eternal beam
May I express thee unblamed? since God is light,
And never but in unapproached light
Dwelt from eternity, dwelt then in thee,
Bright effluence of bright essence increate.
Or hear'st thou rather pure ethereal stream,
Whose fountain who shall tell? before the sun,
Before the heavens thou wert, and at. the voice
Of God, as with a mantle, didst invest
The rising world of waters dark and deep,
Won from the void and formless infinite.
Thee I revisit now with bolder wing,
Escaped the Stygian pool, though long detain'd
In that obscure sojourn; while in mv flight
Through utter and through middle darkness borne,
With other notes, than to th' Orphean lyre,
I sung of Chaos and eternal Night,
Taught by the heav'nly Muse to venture down
The dark descent, and up to reascend,
Though hard and rare: thee I revisit safe,
And feel thy sov'reign vital lamp; but thou
Revisit'st not these eyes, that roll in vain
To find thy piercing ray, and find no dawn;
107
DZHON MILXTON
"Kak trebovat' truda, lishaya glaz?" -
YA voproshayu. No v otvet surovo
Terpen'e mne tverdit: "Ne prosit bog
Lyudskih trudov. On vlastvuet nad vsemi.
Sluzha emu, po tysyacham dorog
My vse speshim, vlacha zemnoe bremya".
No, mozhet byt', ne men'she sluzhit tot
Vysokoj vole, kto stoit i zhdet.
Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
37. POTERYANNYJ RAJ
MILXTON, SETUYUSHCHIJ NA SVOYU SLEPOTU
Hvala, o muzy, vam! YA zrel selen'ya zvezdny,
Besstrashno nishodil v podzemny Ada bezdny;
Derzaya vnov' parit' v svyashchennyj empirej,
V prostranstvo vechnoe lazorevyh polej.
Hochu ya Nebo zret', sej novyj mir blazhennyj,
Svetilom zolotym sogretyj, ozarennyj -
I se ya chuvstvuyu ogon' luchej ego!
No svet ugasnul ih dlya vzora moego:
Zenicy tusklye vo t'me nochnoj vrashchayu
I tshchetno sred' nebes ya solnce zret' zhelayu.
Uvy, ne prosvetit ono moih ochej!
Moj ne uvidit vzor zlatyh ego luchej!
No ty, moj vernyj drug, bozhestvennaya muza,
Ty ne prervesh' so mnoj svyashchennogo soyuza,
Ne perestanesh' glas moj slabyj ozhivlyat',
Kogda ya budu pesn' svyatuyu vospevat'!
Skitayas' po goram, do oblak voznesennym,
Sredi gustyh lesov, po beregam zelenym,
Ne naslazhdayus' ya uzhe ih krasotoj.
V odnom bezmolvii beseduyu s toboj.
Mesta, zhivivshie moj tomnyj duh smushchennyj,
Gora Sionskaya, i ty, ruchej svyashchennyj,
108
John Milton
So thick a drop serene hath quench'd their orbs,
Or dim suffusion veil'd. Yet not the more
Cease I to wander where 'the Muses haunt
Clear spring, or shady grove, or sunny hill,
Smit with the love of sacred song; but chief
Thee Sion, and the flowery brooks beneath,
That wash thy hallow'd feet, and warbling flow,
Nightly I visit; nor sometimes forget
Those other two equall'd with me in fate,
So were I equall'd with them in renown,
Blind Thamyris and blind Maeonides,
And Tiresias and Phineus prophets old.
Then feed on thoughts, that voluntary move
Harmonious numbers; as the wakeful bird
Sings darkling, and in shadiest covert hid
Tunes her nocturnal note: thus with the year
Seasons return, but not to me returns
Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn,
Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose,
Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine;
But cloud instead, and ever-during dark
Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men
Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair
Presented with a universal blank
Of nature's works to me expunged and rased,
And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out.
So much the rather thou celestial Light
Shine inward, and the mind through all her powers
Irradiate, there plant eyes, all mist from thence
Purge and disperse, that I may see and tell
Of things invisible to mortal sight.
109
Dzhon Mil'ton
CHto pri stopah ee zadumchivo zhurchish'
I svetluyu lazur' mezhdu cvetov katish',
Vas chasto s muzoyu, slepec, ya poseshchayu!
O, muzhi slavnye, vas chasto prizyvayu
Slepcy, zhivushchie v bessmertnyh zvukah lir,
Tirezij, Hamaris, bozhestvennyj Omir!
Odnim neschastiem ya s vami tol'ko raven!
Uvy! podobno vam pochto i m ne slaven?
Takim mechtaniem duh slabyj napitav
I silu novuyu voobrazhen'yu dav,
Vselennoj chudesa ya s muzoj vospevayu
I ogn' dushi. moej v sih pesnyah izlivayu.
Tak skromnyj solovej, v nochnoj, bezmolvnyj chas
Sokryvshis' v mrak lesov, liet svoj sladkij glas.
I god, i den', i noch' - vse snova vozroditsya;
No dlya ochej moih svet dnya ne vozvratitsya;
Moj vzor ne otdohnet na zeleni holmov;
Vesna moya bez roz i leto bez plodov.
Uvy! ya ne uzryu ni sinih vod bezmernyh,
Ni utrennih luchej, ni purpurov vechernih,
Ni bogomuzhnego i' krotkogo lica,
V chertah kotorogo blistaet lik Hvorca.
Votshche krasuyutsya cvetov razlichny rody:
Ischezli dlya menya vse krasoty prirody!
I nebo i zemlya pokrylis' strashnoj t'moj -
I kniga divnaya zakrylas' predo mnoj.
Vse pusto, vechnoyu vse noch'yu poglotilos'
I solnce dlya menya naveki zakatilos'.
Prostite navsegda, nauki i trudy,
Sokrovishcha iskusstv i mudrosti plody!
Sokrovishchem iskusstv ya bol'she ne plenyusya,
Plodami mudrosti uzhe ne naslazhusya:
Vse skryla noch'! No ty lyubimica nebes,
Sojdi na pomoshch' mne, rastorgni mrak oches."
O, muza, prosveti menya ognem nebesnym!
I ne ostanus' ya v potomstve neizvestnym,
Otkryv bestrepetno v svyashchennoj pesni sej
Sokrytoe dodnes' ot smertnogo ochej.
Perevod N. I. Gnedicha
Samuel Butler
38. FROM oHUDIBRAS"
For his Religion it was fit
To match his Learning and his Wit:
'Twas Presbyterian true blew,
For he was of that stubborn Crew
Of Errant Saints, whom all men grant
To be the true Church Militant:
Such as do build their Faith upon
The holy Text of Pike and Gun;
Decide all Controversies by
Infallible Artillery;
And prove their Doctrine Orthodox
By Apostolic Blows and Knoclrs;
Call Fire and Sword and Desolation,
A godly-thorough-Reformation,
Which always must be carry'd on,
And still be doing; never done:
As if Religion were intended
For nothing else but to be mended.
A Sect, whose chief Devotion lies
In odd perverse Antipathies;
In falling out with that or this,
And finding somewhat still amiss:
More peevish, cross, and spleenatick,
Than Dog distract, or Monky sick.
That with more care keep Holy-day
Semyuel Batler
38. GUDIBRAS
(Otryvok)
Sebe, razumen i uchen,
Podstat' i veru vybral on -
Byl iz presviter'yan goryachih,
Iz sekty teh svyatosh brodyachih,
CHto oshchutit' nam dali vslast'
Voinstvuyushchej cerkvi vlast',
Svoi otstaivaya vzglyady
Patristikoyu kanonady,
Pri sporah v hod puskaya grad
Mushketno-sabel'nyh citat,
I zavershaya disput vsyakij
Putem apostol'skoj ataki,
A bujstvo stali i ognya
Reformoj bozh'ej cerkvi mnya -
Reformoj istinnoj i vechnoj,
Poskol'ku mozhno beskonechno
O vere disputy vesti
I k edinen'yu ne pridti.
Zlost' i svarlivost' - vot primety
Teh, kto priverzhen k sekte etoj.
Vse ne po nim, vse im ne tak.
Ih svore nuzhen lish' pustyak,
CHtob v draku ustremilis' r'yano
Oni, kak psy il' obez'yany.
Vsegda ne po nutru im tot,
112
Samuel Butler
The wrong, than others the right way:
Compound for Sins, they are inclin'd to,
By damning those they have no mind to;
Still so perverse and opposite,
As if they worshipp'd God for spight.
The self-same thing they will abhor
One way, and long another for.
Free-will they one way disavow,
Another, nothing else allow.
All Piety consists therein
In them, in other Men all Sin.
113.
Semyuel Batler
Kto ne na ih maner zhivet:
Oni ved' sami tak grehovny,
CHto vse u nih v grehah vinovny.
Vrazhda ko vsem v nih tak sil'na,
CHto i v molitvah ih slyshna.
Oni chego sebe zhelayut,
Togo 'drugim ne dozvolyayut:
Svobodu sovesti im daj,
No ostal'nyh ee lishaj.
Oni odni - gospodni chada,
Vse prochie - ischad'ya ada.
Perevod P. V. Melkovoj
Andrew Marvell
39. THE DEFINITION OF LOVE
My Love is of a birth as rare
As 'tis for object strange and high:
It was begotten by Despair
Upon Impossibility.
Magnanimous Despair alone
Could show me so divine a thing,
Where feeble Hope could ne'r have flown
But vainly flapt its Tinsel Wing.
And yet I quickly might arrive
Where my extended Soul is fixt,
But Fate does Iron wedges drive,
And alwais crouds it self betwixt.
For Fate with jealous Eye does see
Two perfect Loves; nor lets them close:
Their union would her ruine be,
And her Tyrannick pow'r depose.
And therefore her Decrees of Steel
Us as the distant Poles have plac'd,
(Though Loves whole World on us doth wheel)
Not by themselves to be embrac'd.
Unless the giddy- Heaven fall,
And Earth some new Convulsion tear;
And, us to joyn, the World should all
Be cramp'd into a Planisphere.
U
|ndryu Marvell
39. OPREDELENIE LYUBVI
CHudno Lyubvi moej nachalo
I seti, chto ona splela:
Ee Otchayan'e zachalo
I Nevozmozhnost' rodila.
Otchayan'e v svoih shchedrotah
V takuyu vzmylo vysotu,
CHto u Nadezhdy zheltorotoj
Zastyli kryl'ya na letu.
I vse zhe Celi toj, edinoj,
YA, veritsya, dostich' by mog,
Ne pregrazhdaj zheleznym klinom
K nej kazhdyj raz puti mne - Rok.
S opaskoyu vstrechat' privyk on
Dvuh Dush neistovuyu Strast':
Soedinis' oni - i migom
Nizlozhena Tirana vlast'.
Vot pochemu ego statutom
My navek raz®edineny
I, serdca vskruzhennye smutoj,
Obnyat' drug druga ne vol'ny.
Razve chto ruhnut Neba vysi
V stihij poslednem myatezhe,
Vse splyushchiv, i, kak tochki, sblizyat
Dva polyusa - na chertezhe.
116
Andrew Marvell
As Lines so Loves oblique may well
Themselves in every Angle greet:
But ours so truly Paralel,
Though infinite can never meet.
Therefore the Love which us doth bind,
But Fate so enviously debarrs,
Is the Conjunction of the Mind,
And Opposition of the Stars.
117
|ndryu Marvell
Svoi v Lyubvi est' linij hody:
Kosym skrestit'sya privelos',
Pryamye zhe, tayas', poodal'
Legli, chtob v Vechnost' kanut' vroz'.
I my - tak. I Lyubvi rozhden'e,
CHej Roku nenavisten rost,
Est' Dush Vzaimonahozhden'e
I Protivostoyan'e Zvezd.
Perevod A. M SHadrina
John Dryden
40. ALEXANDER'S FEAST; OR, THE POWER
OF MUSIC
'Twas at the royal feast, for Persia won
By Philip's warlike son:
Aloft in awful state
The godlike hero sate
On his imperial throne:
His valiant peers were plac'd around,
Their brows with roses and with myrtle bound:
So should desert in arms be crown'd.
The lovely Thais by his side
Sat, -like a blooming Eastern bride,
In flow'r of youth and beauty's pride.
Happy, happy, happy pair!
None but the brave,
None but the brave,
None but the brave deserves the fair.
Timotheus, plac'd on high
Amid the tuneful quire,
With flying fingers touch'd the lyre:
The trembling notes ascend the sky,
And heavenly joys inspire.
The song began from Jove;
Who left his blissful seats above.
(Such is the power of mighty Love!)
A dragon's fiery form belied the god,
Sublime on radiant spheres he rode,
When he to fair Olympia press'd,
And stamp'd an image of himself, a sovereign of the
world.
The listening crowd admire the lofty sound,
A present deity! they shout around:
A present deity, the vaulted roofs rebound.
Dzhon Drajden
40. PIRSHESTVO ALEKSANDRA,
ILI SILA GARMONII
Po strashnoj bitve toj, gde car' Persidy pal,
Ostavya rat', venec i zhizn' v krovavom pole,
Vozvyshen vossedal,
V siyan'e na prestole,
Krasoyu bog, Filippov syn.
Krugom - vozhdej i ratnyh chin;
Vencami roz glavy uvity:
Venec est' dar tebe, syn brani znamenityj!
Taisa bliz carya sidit,
Lyubov' ochej, vostoka divo;
Kak roza,- yunyj cvet lanit,
I polon strasti vzor spydlivyj.
Blazhennaya cheta!
Velichie s krasoyu! '
Lish' brannomu geroyu,
Lish' smelomu v boyah nagradoj krasota!
I zrelsya Timotej sredi poyushchih klira;
Letali persty po strunam;
Kak vihor', moshchnyj zvon stremilsya k nebesam;
Zvuchala radostiyu lira.
Ot Zevsa pesn' vedet pevec:
"O vlast' lyubvi! Bogov otec,
Svoi pokinuv gromy, s trona,
Pod divnym obrazom drakona,
Nishodit v mir; dugami v'et
Ognecheshujchatyj hrebet;
V nem strasti pyshet vozhdelen'e;
120
John Dryden
With ravish'd ears,
The monarch hears,
Assumes the god,
Affects to nod,
And seems to shake the spheres.
The praise of Bacchus then the sweet musician
sung,
Of Bacchus ever fair, and ever young:
The jolly god in triumph comes;
Sound the trumpets, beat the drums;
Flush'd with a purple grace
He shows his honest face.
Now give the hautboys breath; he comes,
he comes!
Bacchus, ever, fair and young,
Drinking joys did first ordain:
Bacchus' blessings are a treasure,
Drinking is the soldier's pleasure;
Rich the treasure,
Sweet the pleasure;
Sweet is pleasure after pain.
Sooth'd with the sound, the king grew vain,
Fought all his battles o'er again,
And thrice he routed all his foes, and thrice he
slew the slain.
The master saw the madness rise;
His glowing cheeks, his ardent eyes;
And, while he heav'n and earth defied,
Chang'd his hand, and check'd his pride.
He chose a mournful Muse,
Soft pity to infuse:
He sung Darius great and good,
By too severe a fate,
Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen,
Fallen from his high estate,
And welt'ring in his blood;
121
Dzhon Drajden
K Olimpii letit, k grudyam ee prinik,
Obvil trikraty stan - i vot Zevesov lik!
Vot novyj car' zemle! Zevesovo rozhden'e!"
I stroj vnimayushchih vostorgom raspalen;
Klich shumnyj: Car' nash bog! I star i mlad
vospryanul
I zvuchno: Car' nash bog! po svodam otzyv gryanul.
Car' slavoj upoen;
Zrit zvezdy pod stopoyu;
I myslit: on - Zeves;
I dvizhet on glavoyu,
I mnit - podvignul svod nebes.
Hvaloyu Bahusa vosplamenilis' struny:
"Gryadet, gryadet veselyj bog,
Vsegda prekrasnyj, vechno yunyj.
Zvuchi, kimval; razdajsya, rog;
Nash Bahus svetlyj, sanovityj;
Kak purpur, plamenny lanity;
Zvuchi, truba! gryadet, gryadet!
Iz kubkov pena s shumom b'et;
Kipit v nej plamen' sladostrastnyj.
Pej, voin! dar tebe sosud.
O, Vakha dar bescennyj!
Vinom vosplamenennyj,
Zabud', syn brani, brannyj trud".
I car', volnuem strun igroyu,
V mechtah szyvaet rati k boyu;
Trikraty vrag srazhennyj iM srazhen;
Hrikraty plennyj broshen v plen.
Pevec zrit gneva probuzhden'e
V sverkanii ochej, vo plameni lanit;
I nebu i ' zemle grozyashchu yarost' zrit...
On struny ukrotil; ih zaunyvno pen'e;
Edva laskaet sluh zadumchivyj ih glas,
I zhalost' na strunah smirennyh rodilas'.
On Dariya poet: "Car' dobryj! Car' velikij!
Kto raven s nim?.. No rok svoj groznyj sud poslal;
On pal, on strashno pal;
Net Dariya-vladyki
122
John Dryden
Deserted, at his utmost need,
By those his former bounty fed,
On the bare earth expos'd he lies,
With not a friend to close his eyes.
With downcast look the joyless victor sate,
Revolving in his alter'd soul
The various turns of chance below;
And now and then a sigh he stole,
And tears began to, flow.
The mighty master smil'd to see
That love was in the next degree:
'Twas but a kindred sound to move';
For pity melts the mind to love.
Softly sweet, in Lydian measures,
Soon he soothed his soul to pleasures,
War, he sung, is toil and trouble;
Honour but an empty bubble;
Never ending, still beginning,
Fighting still, and still destroying:
If the world be worth thy winning,
Think, oh think it worth enjoying!
-Lovely Thais sits beside thee,
Take the good the gods provide thee.
The many rend the skies with loud applause;
So love was crown'd, but Music won the cause.
The prince, unable to conceal his pain,
Gaz'd on the fair
Who caused his care,-
And sigh'd and look'd, sigh'd and look'd,
Sigh'd and look'd, and sigh'd again,
At length, with love and wine at once oppress'd
The vanquish'd victor sunk upon her breast.
Now strike the golden lyre again:
And louder yet, and yet a louder strain.-
Break his bands of sleep asunder,
And rouse him, like a rattling peal
of thunder,
Dzhon Drajden
V kipyashchej zybletsya krovi;
Ot vseh zabyt v uzhasnoj dole;
Net v mire dlya nego lyubvi;
Hladeet na peschanom pole;
Gde drug - glaza emu smezhit',
I prahom siruyu glavu ego pokryt'?"
Sidel geroj s ponikshimi ochami;
On mysliyu priskorbnoj probegal
Stezi sud'by, igrayushchej caryami;
Za vzdohom vzdoh iz grudi vyletal.
I prolilas' pechal' ego slezami.
I divnyj pesnopevec zrit,
CHto zhar lyubvi uzhe gorit
V dushe, vkusivshej sozhalen'ya -
I pesn' vzygral on naslazhden'ya:
"Prosnis', Lidijskij brachnyj glas;
Pronikni dushu, plamen' sladkoj;
O, vityaz'! zhizn' - krylatyj chas;
My radost' lovim zdes' ukradkoj;
Letuchej peny klub zlatoj,
Nadutyj pyshno i pustoj -
Vot chest', nadmennyh dush zabava;
Narodam kazn' geroev slava.
Speshi byt' schastliv, bog zemnoj;
Taisa, cvet lyubvi, s toboj;
K tebe laskaetsya ochami;
V grudi zhelan'ya tajnyj zhar,
I dyshet strast' ee ustami.
Vkusi lyubov' - bessmertnyh dar".
Vosstal ot sonma klich i svody vosstenali:
"Hvala i chest' lyubvi! pevcu hvala i chest'!"
I polon sladostnoj pechali,
Ochej ne mozhet car' zadumchivyh otvest'
Ot devy, strast'yu raspalennoj;
Blazhen svoej toskoj; chto vzglyad, to nezhnyj vzdoh;
Gorit i gasnet vzor, zhelan'em napoennyj,
I, tomnyj, pal na grud' Taisy polubog.
124 -
John Dryden
Hark, hark, the horrid sound
Has rais'd up his head;
As awak'd from the dead,
And amaz'd, he stares around.
Revenge, revenge, Timotheus cries,
See the Furies arise,
See the snakes that they rear,
How they hiss in their hair,
And the sparkles that flash from their eyes!
Behold a ghastly band,
Each a torch in his hand!
Those are Grecian ghosts, that in battle were
slain,
And unburied remain,
Inglorious on the plain;
Give the vengeance due
To the valiant crew.
Behold how they toss their torches on high,
How they point to the Persian abodes,
And glitt'ring temples of their hostile gods!
The princes applaud with a furious joy;
And the King seiz'd a flambeau, with zeal to
destroy;
Thais led the way,
To light him to his prey,
And, like another Helen, fir'd another Troy.
Thus, long ago
Ere heaving bellows learn'd to blow,
While organs yet were mute,
Timotheus to his breathing flute
And sounding lyre
Could swell the soul to rage, or kindle soft
desire.
At last divine Cecilia came,
Inventress of the vocal frame;
The sweet enthusiast, from her sacred store,
Knlarg'd the former narrow bounds,
And added length to solemn sounds.
125
Dzhon Drajden
No struny gryanuli pod sil'nymi perstami,
Ih strashnyj zvon, kak s treskom padshij grom;
Zvuchnej, zvuchnej... podnyalsya car'; krugom
On brodit smutnymi ochami;
Razrushen negi sladkij son;
Ischezla prelest' vozhdelen'ya,
I sluh ego razit tyazhelyj, dikij ston:
"Syn brani, mshchen'ya! mshchen'ya!
Pokorstvuj gnevu |vmenid;
Se devy kazni! strashnyj vid!
Smotri! smotri! mezh volosami
Ih zmei strashnye shipyat,
Sverkayut groznymi ochami,
Ziyayut, zhalami blestyat...
No chto? Tam blednyh tenej liki;
Vozdushnyj polk na oblakah;
Nesutsya... svetochi v rukah;
Ih grozen vid; ih vzory diki;
To voiny tvoi... srazhennym v bitve net
Poslednej dani pogreben'ya;
Pustynnyj vran ih trupy rvet,
I voyut: mshchen'ya! mshchen'ya!
Bezhit ot ih ognej pozhar po nebesam;
Bedoj na Persepol' ih gnevny ochi bleshchut;
Tuda pogibel' meshchut;
K mecham! Bojnicy v prah! Ognyu i dom i hram!.."
I sonmy vskolebalis' k brani;
Na shchit i mech upali dlani;
I car' pogibel'nyj svetil'nik vospalil.
O gore, Persepol'! gryadet vladyka sil;
Taisa, vozhd' geroyu,
Elena novaya, zazhzhet druguyu Troyu.
~ak drevnej liry glas - kogda eshche molchal
Organa meh chudesnyj -
Perstam poslushnyj, ozhivlyal
V dushe vostorg, i gnev, i chuvstva zhar prelestnyj.
No dnes' druguyu zhizn' garmonii dala
Sesiliya, tvorec organa.
126
John Dryden
With nature's mother-wit, and arts unknown
before.
Let old Timotheus yield the price,
Or both divide the crown;
He rais'd a mortal to the skies:
She drew an angel down.
Dzhon Drajden
Bessmertnym vymyslom hudozhnica slila
Protyazhnost' s bystrotoj, zvon liry, grom timpana
I pen'e nezhnyh flejt. O, drevnih let pevec,
Kladi k ee stopam zaslug tvoih venec...
No net! vy ravny vdohnoven'em!
Im smertnyj k nebu voznesen;
Na zemlyu angel nizveden
Ee chudesnym sladkopen'em!
Perevod V. A. ZHukovskogo
Jonathan Swift
41. FROM "VERSES ON THE DEATH OF DR. SWIFT *
Occasioned by reading a Maxim in Rochefoulcault:
"Dans 1'adversite de nos meilleurs amis, nous trouvons toujours
quelque chose, qui ne nous deplait pas."
As Rochefoulcault his Maxims drew
From Nature, I believe 'em true:
They argue no corrupted Mind
In him; the Fault is in.Mankind.
This Maxim more than all the rest
Is thought too base for human Breast;
"In all Distresses of our Friends
We first consult. our private Ends,
While Nature kindly bent to ease us,
Points out some Circumstance to please us."
If this perhaps your Patience move
Let Reason and Experience prove.
We all behold with envious Eyes,
Our Equal rais'd above our Size;
Who wou'd not at a crowded Show,
Stand high himself, keep others low?
I love my Friend as well as you,
But would not have him stop my View;
Then let him have the higher Post;
I ask but for an Inch at most.
If in a Battle you should find,
One, whom you love of all Mankind,
Had some heroick Action done,
A Champion kill'd, or Trophy won;
Dzhonatan Svift
41. STIHI NA SMERTX DOKTORA SVIFTA,
napisannye po prochtenii sleduyushchej sentencii iz Lafoshfuko:
(Otryvok)
Francuz Roshfuko "Maksimy"
Dlya mnogih neperenosimy
Ego branyat za zlobnyj nrav,
Ne zamechaya, skol' on prav.
Schitayut nizkoj klevetoyu
Ego suzhdenie prostoe:
"My vse,- kogda druz'ya v bede,-
Pechemsya o svoej nuzhde
I, sleduya blagoj prirode,
Sebe priyatnost' v tom nahodim".
Kto etoj mysl'yu vozmushchen,
Puskaj sebya proverit on.
Vseh nashih blizhnih vozvyshen'e
V nas vyzyvaet razdrazhen'e.
Stolpilis' lyudi; kto iz nih
Ne vlez by vyshe ostal'nyh?
Hot' on moj drug, no mne zavidno,
Kol' vidit on, a mne ne vidno!
Net, luchshe vlezt' mne samomu,
CHtob videt' mne, a ne emu.
Pust' nekto, stol' lyubimyj vami,
CHto trudno vyrazit' slovami,
130
Jonathan Swift
Rather than thus be over-topt,
Would you not wish his Lawrels cropt?
Dear honest Ned is in the Gout,
Lies rackt with Pain, and you without:
How patiently you hear him groan!
How glad the Case is not your own!
What Poet would not grieve to see,
His Brethren write as well as he?
But rather than they should excel,
He'd wish his Rivals all in Hell.
Her End when Emulation misses,
She turns to Envy, Stings and Hisses;
The strongest Friendship yields to Pride,
Unless the Odds be on our Side.
Vain human Kind! Fantastick Race!
Thy various Follies, who can trace?
Self-love, Ambition, Envy, Pride,
Their Empire in our Hearts divide:
Give others Riches, Power, and Station,
'Tis all on me an Usur.pation.
I have no Title to aspire;
Yet, when you sink, I'seem the higher.
In POPE, I cannot read a Line,
But with a Sigh, I wish it mine:
When he can in one Couplet fix
afore Sense than I can do in Six:
It gives me such a jealous Fit,
I cry, Pox take him, and his Wit.
Why must I be outdone by GAY,
In my own hum'rous biting Way?
ARBUTHNOT is no more my Friend,
Who dares to Irony pretend;
131
Dzhonatan Svift
Proslavit v doblestnom boyu
Sebya i armiyu svoyu;
Neuzhto vy b ne zahoteli,
CHtob eti lavry obleteli?
Razbit podagroj dobryj Ned,
Bednyak stradaet, vy zhe - net;
Stenan'ya slyshat' tak legko vam
I chuvstvovat' sebya zdorovym!
Kakoj poet byvaet rad,
CHto preuspel ego sobrat,
I ne nahodit v tom prichiny
ZHelat' soperniku konchiny?
CHuzhogo prevoshodstva vid
Nas razdrazhaet i gnevit,
A druzhba lish' togda prelestna,
Kogda sravnen'e s drugom lestno.
O suetnyj, tshcheslavnyj rod!
Tvoi bezumstva kto sochtet?
Kovarstvo, zavist', spes', gordynya
V serdcah gospodstvuyut donyne.
Bogatyj, sil'nyj mezh lyudej
V moih glazah vsegda zlodej.
Pust' ya nichtozhen, vrode myshi,
No pali vy - kazhus' povyshe.
Tvorenij Popa kazhdyj slog
Vo mne rozhdaet tyazhkij vzdoh:
On umestit, umen i kratok,
V dve strochki to, chto ya - v desyatok.
Ne v silah etogo sterpet',
Krichu ya: "CHtob emu sgoret'! "
YA zlyus', kogda satiry Geya
Moih izyashchnej i ostree.
132
Jonathan Swift
Which I was born to introduce,
Refin'd it first, and shew'd its Use.
St.JOHN, as well as PULTNEY knows,
That I had some Repute for Prose;
And till they drove me out of Date,
Could maul a Minister of State:
If they have mortify'd my Pride,
And made me throw my Pen, aside;
If with such Talents Heav'n hath blest 'em
Have I not Reason to detest 'em?
To all my Foes, dear Fortune, send
Thy Gifts, but never to my Friend;
I tamely can endure the first,
But, this with Envy makes me burst.
Thus much may serve by way of Proem,
Proceed we therefore to our Poem.
133
Dzhonatan Svift
I Arbeshnot protiven mne
Svoej ironiej vdvojne;
Ved' ya otkryl ee znachen'e
I pervyj vvel v upotreblen'e.
Seit-Dzhoiu s Pultni znat' ne greh,
CHto v proze ya imel uspeh,
I byli dni, kogda ya bystro
Umel perom srazit' ministra.
Kogda zh teper' vzamen moih
CHitayutsya pamflety ih,
YA, prinuzhdennyj eto videt',
Mogu li ih ne nenavidet'?
Pust' odaren Fortunoj vdrug
Nash nedrug, tol'ko by ne drug;
My pervoe sterpet' gotovy,
No ne perezhivem vtorogo.
Tak, zavershiv prolog k poeme,
My perehodim k glavnoj teme.
Perevod YU. D. Levina
John Gay
42. THE HARE AND MANY FRIENDS
(A Fable)
Friendship, like love, is but a name,
Unless to one you stint the flame.
The child, whom many fathers share,
Hath seldom known a father's care.
'Tis thus in friendships; who depend
On many, rarely find a friend.
A Hare who, in a civil way,
Comply'd with every thing, like Gay,
Was known by all the bestial train
Who haunt the wood, or graze the plain;
Her care was never to offend;
And every creature was her friend.
As forth she went at early dawn,
To taste the dew-besprinkled lawn,
Behind she hears the hunter's cries,
And from the deep-mouth'd thunder flies.
She starts, she stops, she pants for breath;
She hears the near advance of death;
She doubles, to mislead the hound,
And measures back her mazy round;
Till, fainting in the public way,
Half-dead with fear she gasping lay.
What transport in her bosom grew,
When first the Horse appear'd in view!
"Let me,". says she, "your back ascend,
And owe my safety to a friend.
You know my feet betray my flight:
To friendship every burthen's light."
The Horse reply'd, "Poor honest Puss,
It grieves my heart to see thee thus:
-Be comforted, relief is near,
For all your friends are in the rear."
She next the stately Bull implor'd;
Dzhon Gej
42. ZAYAC I EGO DRUZXYA
(Basn')
Znakomstvo, druzhestvo pustye sut' nazvan'ya,
Kogda zavodim ih bez vsyakogo vniman'ya;
Priyatelej sebe kto mnogih naberet -
Edva l' i odnogo v neschastii najdet..
Odin iz zajcev svel znakomstvo so skotami,
Kotorye bez rog, i s kolkimi rogami,
(Opisyvat' ih zdes' net nuzhdy nikakoj)
S prirodnoyu svoej serdechnoj dobrotoj
Pri kazhdyh sporah ih byval na vse soglasen,
I strast' imel, kak Gej, velikuyu do basen -
Za chto vsyak zajchika lyubeznym nazyval
I v druzhbe kazhdyj raz vstrechayas' uveryal -
Pri zhizni takovoj on prygal i rezvilsya,
I pred podobnymi sebe vezde gordilsya.
Odnazhdy vyskochiv s zareyu na luzhok,
CHtob travki poshchipat', zapryatalsya v kustok;
No vdrug on slyshit laj i trub uzhasny zvuki!
CHtob ne popast' emu k tiranam v -strashny ruki,
Brosaetsya tuda, syuda - opyat' nazad;
Povsyudu za soboj sobak zlyh vidit ryad.-
Podseklis' nakonec ego ot straha nogi,
Edva dysha upal sredi bol'shoj dorogi.
No tut kakoj vostorg v grudi ego vosstal,
Kogda idushchuyu on loshad' uvidal.
Pozvol', vskrichal, o kon'! mne na tebe ukryt'sya,
I tem ot vidimoj bedy osvobodit'sya,
Nadezhda na tebya ostalas' mne odna,
A pomoshch' vsyakaya dlya druzhby netrudna.
136
John Gay
And thus reply'd the mighty lord:
"Since every beast alive can tell
That I sincerely wish you well,
I may, without offence, pretend
To take the freedom of a friend.
Love calls me hemrce; a favourite cow
Expects me near yon barley-mow;
And, when a lady's in the case,
You know, all other things give place.
To leave you thus might seem unkind"-
But, see, the Goat is just behind"
The Goat remark'd, her pulse was high,
Her languid head"her heavy eye:
"My back," says he, "may do you harm;
The Sheep's at hand, and wool is warm."
The Sheep was feeble, and complain'd,
His sides a load of wool sustain'd;
Said he was slow, confess'd his fears;
For Hounds eat Sheep as well as Hares.
She now the trotting CaN address'',
To save from death a friend distress'd.
"Shall I," says he, "of tender age,
In this important care engage?
Older and abler pass'd you by;
How strong are those! how weak am I!
Should I presume to bear you hence,
Those friends of mine may take offence.
Excuse me, then; you know my heart;
But dearest friends, alas! must part.
How shall we all lament! Adieu;
For, see, the Hounds are just in view."
137
Dzhon Gej
YA k drugu byl vsegda raspolozhen serdechno,
Skazal emu tot kon', ty znaesh' sam konechno;
Da s vazhnym delom ya teper' ko l'vu idu,
Utesh'sya - vot zdes' vse druz'ya tvoi v vidu!
Ostavya loshad', on k byku stremglav pustilsya,
No takzhe horosho i sej otgovorilsya:
Vse znayut, chto tebe zhelayu ya dobra,
I kak tvoj drug, skazhu: davno idti pora -
Von k etoj, vidish' li, prigozhen'koj korove,
Otkrylsya koej ya vchera v moej lyubvi;
Mne zhal', chto ya tebya v neschastii nashel,
No radujsya, k tebe idet tvoj drug kozel!
Kozel, primetya v nem otmenno zhil bien'e
I smertnuyu v glazah pomerklost' i tomlen'e,
Moya spina tebe vredna, v otvet skazal,
I na ovcu emu rogami ukazal.
Ovca byla slaba, pritom zhe i boyalas',
CHtob v. zuby i sama sobakam ne dostalas':
K telenku nakonec v otchayan'i pribeg.
No ravnoj poluchen i ot nego uspeh.
Vozmozhno li, chtob ya, mlad buduchi letami,
Sravnyat'sya vozmechtal s velikimi skotami?
Iz nih tebe nikto ne zahotel pomoch'
I vsyakij ot tebya bezhal skoree proch';
Tak mne li odnomu na pomoshch' pokusit'sya?
I kak posle togo glazam ih poyavit'sya.
YA plachu po tebe! - CHu! slyshu gonchih laj,
Oni begut, begut! proshchaj, moj drug, proshchaj!
Perevod I. Il'inskogo
Alexander Pope
49. FROM oWINDSOR FOREST
Above the rest a rural nymph was famed,
Thy offspring, Thames! the fair Lodona named;
(Lodona's fate, in long oblivion cast,
The Muse shall sing, and what she sings shall last.)
Scarce could the goddess from her nymph be known,
But by the crescent, and the golden zone.
She scorned the praise of beauty, and the care;
A belt her waist, a fillet binds her hair;
A painted quiver on her shoulder sounds,
And with her dart the flying deer she wounds.
It chanced, as eager of the chase, the maid
Beyond the forest's verdant limits strayed,
Pan saw and loved, and, burning with desire,
Pursued her flight, her flight increased his fire.
Not half so swift the trembling doves can fly,
When the fierce eagle cleaves the liquid sky;
Not half so swiftly the fierce eagle moves,
When through the clouds he drives the trembling doves;
As from the god she flew with furious pace,
Or as the god, more furious, urged the chase.
Now fainting, sinking, pale, the nymph appears;
Now close behind, his sounding steps she hears;
And now his shadow reached her as she run,
His shadow lengthened by the setting sun;
And now his shorter breath, with sultry air,
Pants on her neck, and fans her parting hair.
In vain on father Thames she calls for aid,
Nor could Diana help her. injured maid.
Faint, breathless, thus she prayed, nor prayed
in vain:
"Ah Cynthial ah - though banished from thy train,
Let me, 0 let me, to the shades repair,
My native shades - there weep, and murmur there."
Aleksandr Pop
43. VINDZORSKIJ LES
(Otryvok)
Iz yunyh nimf ee doch' Tamesa, Lodona,
Byla slavnee vseh; i vzor |ndimiona
Lish' potomu ee s Dianoj razlichal,
CHto mesyac zolotoj boginyu ukrashal.
No, smertnyh i bogov plenyaya, ne plenyalas'."
Odna svoboda ej s nevinnost'yu mila,
I lovlya ptic, zverej - utehoyu byla.
Odezhda legkaya na nimfe razvevalas',
Zefir igral v ee struistyh volosah,
Reznoj kolchan zvenel s strelami na plechah,
I metkoe kop'e za sernoyu svistalo.
Odnazhdy Pan ee uvidel, polyubil,
I serdce u nego zhelan'em vospylalo.
Ona bezhit... V lyubvi predmet begushchij mil,
I nimfa robkaya stydlivost'yu svoeyu
Dlya derzkogo eshche prelestnee byla.
Kak. gorlica letit ot hishchnogo orla,
Kak yarostnyj orel stremitsya vsled za neyu,
Tak nimfa ot nego, tak on za nimfoj vsled -
I blizhe, blizhe k nej... Ona iznemogaet,
Slaba, bledna... V glazah ee temneet svet.
Uzhe ten' Panova Lodonu nastigaet,
I nimfa slyshit stuk nog boga za soboj,
Dyhanie ego, kak veter, razvevaet
Ej volosy... Togda, ostavlena sud'boj,
V otchayan'i svoem neschastnaya, k bogine
Dushoyu obratyas', tak myslila: "Spasi,
O Cintiya! menya; v dubravy prenesi,
Na rodinu moyu! Ah! Pust' ya tam otnyne
Stenayu gorestno i slezy l'yu ruch'em! "
Ispolnilos'... I vdrug, kak budto by slezami
Izliv tosku svoyu, ona techet struyami,
Stenaya zhalobno v zhurchanii svoem.
140
Alexander Pope
She said, and melting as in tears she lay,
In a soft silver stream dissolved away.
The silver stream her virgin coldness keeps,
For ever murmurs, and for ever weeps;
Still bears the name the hapless virgin bore,
And bathes the forest where she ranged before.
In her chaste current oft the goddess laves,
And with celestial tears augments the waves.
Oft in her glass the musing shepherd spies
The headlong mountains and the downward skies,
The watery landscape of the pendant woods,
And absent trees that tremble in the floods;
In the clear azure gleam the flocks are seen,
And floating forests paint the waves with green,
Through the fair scene roll slow the lingering streams,
Then foaming pour along, and rush into the Thames.
44. THE DYING CHRISTIAN TO HIS SOUL
Ode
Vital spark of heavenly flame!
Quit, oh quit this mortal frame:
Trembling, hoping, lingering, flying,
Oh the pain, the bliss of dying!
Cease, fond Nature, cease thy strife,
And let me languish into life!
II
Hark! they whisper; Angels say,
"Sister Spirit, come away."
What is this absorbs me quite?
Steals my senses, shuts my sight,
Drowns my spirits, draws my breath?
Tell me, my Soul, can this be Death?
141
Aleksandr Pop
Potok sej i teper' Lodonoj nazyvaem.
CHist, hladen, kak ona; tot les im oroshaem,
Gde nimfa nekogda gulyala i zhila.
Diana moetsya v ego vode kristal'noj,
.I pamyat' nimfina donyne ej mila:
Kogda voobrazit ee konec pechal'nyj,
Strui slivayutsya s bogininoj slezoj.
Pastuh, zadumavshis', zhurchan'yu ih vnimaet,
Sidya pod teniyu, v nih chasto sozercaet
Lunu u nog svoih i gory vniz glavoj,
Plyvushchij ryad derev, nad beregom visyashchih
I vodu svetluyu soboyu zelenyashchih.
Sredi prekrasnyh mest izluchistym putem
Lodona tihaya edva-edva struitsya,
No vdrug, bystree stav v techenii svoem,
Speshit s otcom .ee navek soedinit'sya.
Perevod N. M. Karamzina
44. UMIRAYUSHCHIJ HRISTIANIN
Nebesnogo ognya bozhestvennaya iskra,
Dusha, sbros' smertnye odezhdy
Boleznej, straha i nadezhdy,
O, zhalkaya igra!
Okovy razorvi prirody,
Pari k istochniku i zhizni i svobody!
Teper' tvoya pora!
Vnemli, kak angely vokrug tebya veshchayut:
"K nam, milaya sestra, skoree!"
Moj vzor stanovitsya tusklee;
YA ne mogu dyshat';
Poterya sil i chuvstv smyaten'e...
-"Dusha, otvetstvuj mne, reshi moe somnen'e:
Ne to li - umirat'?
... Na etom tekst obryvaetsya
Last-modified: Tue, 11 Mar 1997 05:14:45 GMT