|mili Dikinson. Stihotvoreniya
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Emily Dickinson, Poems
© Copyright Perevodchiki Arkadij Gavrilov, YAkov Berger, Leonid Sitnik
Email: l_sitnik@autopanorama.mtu-net.ru
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Vremya sobirat' kameshki. Leonid Sitnik
|mili Dikinson. Tornton Uajlder
|mili Dikinson. Stihotvoreniya
19 A sepal, petal, and a thorn
Rostok, listok i lepestok... Perevod L. Sitnika
23 I had a guinea golden
U menya byla gineya... Perevod L. Sitnika
49 I never lost as much but twice
YA vse teryala dvazhdy... Perevod L. Sitnika
61 Papa above!
Papa svyshe! Perevod L. Sitnika
89 Some things that fly there be
Kakie-to veshchi letyat, no oni... Perevod L. Sitnika
106 The Daisy follows soft the Sun
Cvetok sledit za solncem vzglyadom... Perevod L. Sitnika
115 What Inn is this
CHto za priyut... Perevod L. Sitnika
118 My friend attacks my friend!
Moj drug napal na druga! Perevod L. Sitnika
119 Talk with prudence to a Beggar
O sokrovishchah i zlate... Perevod L. Sitnika
120 If this is "fading"
O esli eto -- "uvyadan'e"... Perevod L. Sitnika
126 To fight aloud, is very brave
Srazhat'sya smelo -- slavnyj trud... Perevod L. Sitnika
131 Besides the Autumn poets sing
Ne tol'ko osen'yu poyut... Perevod A. Gavrilova
139 Soul, Wilt thou toss again?
Dusha, ty volnuesh'sya snova? Perevod L. Sitnika
140 An altered look about the hills
Menyayushchijsya vid holmov... Perevod A. Gavrilova
153 Dust is the only Secret
Prah -- odna tol'ko Tajna... Perevod L. Sitnika
172 'Tis so much joy! 'Tis so much joy!
Veselee! Veselee! Perevod YA. Bergera
180 As if some little Arctic flower
Predstav', chto malen'kij cvetok... Perevod L. Sitnika
182 If I shouldn't be alive
Esli mne zhivoj ne vstretit'... Perevod L. Sitnika
205 I should not dare to leave my friend
Ne dolzhen byt' ostavlen drug... Perevod A. Gavrilova
216 Safe in their Alabaster Chambers
Ukryty v alebastrovyh palatah... Perevod A. Gavrilova
235 The Court is far away
Pravdy net -- i dalek... Perevod L. Sitnika
239 "Heaven" -- is what I cannot reach!
Mne ne doprygnut' do nebes... Perevod L. Sitnika
243 I've known a Heaven, like a Tent
YA znayu -- Nebo, kak shater... Perevod A. Gavrilova
248 Why -- do they shut Me out of Heaven?
Pochemu menya na nebe... Perevod L. Sitnika
266 This -- is the land -- the Sunset washes
Zemlya, chej bereg omyvayut... Perevod YA. Bergera
275 Doubt Me! My Dim Companion!
Ne verish' mne, moj strannyj drug! Perevod L. Sitnika
280 I felt a Funeral, in my Brain
Zvuk pohoron v moem mozgu... Perevod L. Sitnika
289 I know some lonely Houses off the Road
Est' pustye doma v storone ot dorog... Perevod L. Sitnika
303 The Soul selects her own Society
Dusha vybiraet obshchestvo... Perevod L. Sitnika
318 I'll tell you how the Sun rose
YA rasskazhu vam, kak voshodit solnce. Perevod L. Sitnika
347 When Night is almost done
K ishodu dolgoj nochi... Perevod YA. Bergera
377 To lose one's faith -- surpass
Utratit' veru -- huzhe, chem... Perevod L. Sitnika
389 There's been a Death, in the Opposite House,
Skoro v dome, chto naprotiv... Perevod L. Sitnika
409 They dropped like Flakes
Kak Zvezdy, padali oni... Perevod A. Gavrilova
441 This is my letter to the World
Zdes' pis'ma k miru ot menya... Perevod L. Sitnika
449 I died for Beauty -- but was scarce
YA umerla za Krasotu... Perevod A. Gavrilova
508 I'm ceded -- I've stopped being Theirs
YA udalyayus' -- ya uzhe ne vasha... Perevod L. Sitnika
509 If anybody's friend be dead
Kogda umret vash luchshij drug... Perevod YA. Bergera
536 The Heart asks Pleasure -- first
Sperva my prosim radosti... Perevod YA. Bergera
547 I've seen a Dying Eye
YA videl mertvye glaza... Perevod L. Sitnika
556 The Brain, within its Groove
V izvilinah mozgi... Perevod L. Sitnika
583 A Toad, can die of Light
Svet dlya zhaby -- otrava... Perevod L. Sitnika
619 Glee -- The great storm is over
Radujtes'! Konchilas' burya! Perevod L. Sitnika
622 To know just how He suffered -- would be dear --
Uznat', kak stradal on -- uzhe nagrada... Perevod L. Sitnika
623 It was too late for Man
Slishkom pozdno dlya cheloveka... Perevod L. Sitnika
664 Of all the Souls that stand create
Iz sonma sotvorennyh Dush... Perevod A. Gavrilova
670 One need not be a Chamber -- to be Haunted
Ne nuzhno komnat privideniyu... Perevod YA. Bergera
682 'Twould ease -- a Butterfly
Legko byt' motyl'kom... Perevod L. Sitnika
709 Publication -- is the Auction
Publikaciya -- prodazha... Perevod A. Gavrilova
732 She rose to His Requirement -- droppt
Ona dorosla do togo, chtoby, brosiv... Perevod L. Sitnika
742 Four Trees -- upon a solitary Acre
CHetyre dereva -- v pustynnom meste... Perevod L. Sitnika
759 He fought like those Who've nought to lose
On bilsya yarostno -- sebya... Perevod A. Gavrilova
764 Presentiment -- is that long Shadow -- on the Lawn
Predchuvstvie -- eto dlinnaya ten' na lugu... Perevod L. Sitnika
793 Grief is a Mouse
Pechal' -- eto mysh'... Perevod L. Sitnika
797 By my Window have I for Scenery
Pejzazhem ya vizhu iz moego okna... Perevod L. Sitnika
822 This Consciousness that is aware
Soznanie, chto soznaet... Perevod A. Gavrilova
887 We outgrow love, like other things
My vyrastaem iz lyubvi... Perevod L. Sitnika
975 The Mountain sat upon the Plain
Gory sadyatsya v dolinu... Perevod L. Sitnika
976 Death is a Dialogue between
Smert' -- eto dolgij razgovor... Perevod L. Sitnika
1055 The Soul should always stand ajar
Dusha dolzhna zhit' naraspashku... Perevod L. Sitnika
1067 Except the smaller size
Lish' malen'kaya tvar'... Perevod A. Gavrilova
1075 The Sky is low -- the Clouds are mean.
Nebo nizhe -- chem oblaka. Perevod L. Sitnika
1129 Tell all the Truth but tell it slant
Skazhi vsyu Pravdu, no lish' vskol'z'... Perevod L. Sitnika
1182 Remembrance has a Rear and Front
Pamyat' imeet okna i steny... Perevod L. Sitnika
1186 Too few the mornings be
Zdes' slishkom kratki dni... Perevod L. Sitnika
1207 He preached upon 'Breadth' till it argued him narrow
On uchil "shirote", i v tom byla uzost'... Perevod L. Sitnika
1212 A word is dead
Mysl' umiraet... Perevod L. Sitnika
1216 A Deed knocks first at Thought
Postupok budit Mysl'... Perevod L. Sitnika
1287 In this short Life
V korotkoj zhizni sej... Perevod A. Gavrilova
1396 She laid her docile Crescent down
Kosu svoyu slozhila smert'... Perevod YA. Bergera
1398 I have no Life but this
Mne zhizni net inoj... Perevod L. Sitnika
1478 Look back on Time, with kindly eyes
Vzglyani na vremya blagodarno... Perevod YA. Bergera
1544 Who has not found the Heaven -- below
Kto ne nashel nebes vnizu... Perevod L. Sitnika
1587 He ate and drank the precious Words
On el i pil volshebnyj slog... Perevod L. Sitnika
1593 There came a Wind like a Bugle
Vdrug v tishinu vorvalsya shkval... Perevod A. Gavrilova
1599 Though the great Waters sleep
Pust' Velikie Vody spyat... Perevod L. Sitnika
1672 Lightly stepped a yellow star
Tiho zheltaya Zvezda... Perevod A. Gavrilova
1732 My life closed twice before its close
YA dvazhdy skonchayus', i pered koncom... Perevod L. Sitnika
1736 Proud of my broken heart, since thou didst break it
Gordis' moim slomannym serdcem, slomavshij ego... Perevod L. Sitnika
Vremya sobirat' kameshki
Za |mili Dikinson vodilos' mnogo strannostej. |to ee neizmennoe beloe
plat'e ili zamknutyj obraz zhizni, kogda ona dazhe s druz'yami razgovarivala
iz-za poluotkrytoj dveri. Nakonec, glavnoe, -- poetessa, vposledstvii
priznannaya geniem amerikanskoj literatury, pri zhizni tak i ostalas'
prakticheski nikomu neizvestnoj. Vprochem, luchshe, chem Oskar Uajld ob etom ne
napishesh', a posemu ya hochu ogranichit'sya v svoem vstuplenii samymi
neobhodimymi zamechaniyami, kasayushchimisya strannosti ee stihov, da i to lish' v
toj stepeni, v kakoj eto zatragivaet perevody.
Uzhe nemalo bylo napisano ob osobennostyah punktuacii v stihah Dikinson.
Prezhde vsego -- ob upotreblenii tire. Utverzhdalos', chto tire dlya Dikinson --
eto bolee tonkij instrument ritmicheskogo deleniya, dopolnitel'noe sredstvo
smyslovoj strukturizacii, prosto universal'nyj zamenitel' vseh ostal'nyh
znakov prepinaniya. V ee tekstah pri zhelanii mozhno otyskat' stol' zhe mnogo
primerov, podtverzhdayushchih lyubuyu teoriyu, skol' i sluchaev, govoryashchih o tom, chto
vse eti tire svidetel'stvuyut isklyuchitel'no o psihicheskom sostoyanii speshki i
neterpeniya, chto oni yavlyayutsya svoeobraznymi uskoritelyami pis'ma i, ya by
skazal, mysli. Krome togo, davno podmecheno, chto poety lyubyat tire, v to vremya
kak lyudi uchenye predpochitayut dvoetochiya.
Ne bol'she smysla viditsya mne i v uglublennom analize upotrebleniya
strochnoj ili propisnoj bukvy v nachale slov. Pochemu Bog ili Smert' vo vseh
stihah napisany s propisnoj -- predel'no yasno, no zachem v stihotvorenii 508
pisat' s propisnoj slovo Kukly ryadom so slovom cerkov', napisannym so
strochnoj, ob®yasnit' nevozmozhno nichem, krome kak nebrezhnost'yu i toj zhe
speshkoj. Dlya perevodchika v etih tire i zaglavnyh bukvah vazhno tol'ko odno --
oni est', i oni soobshchayut stiham tot nepovtorimyj vid, kotoryj oni imeyut.
CHto zhe kasaetsya osobennostej sinonimicheskih ryadov v poezii Dikinson,
prosodicheskih harakteristik, struktur katrenov, vsevozmozhnyh sinkop,
assonansov i dissonansov, a takzhe sochetaniya novatorstva i tradicionnosti,
to, priznayus', chto eto slishkom special'naya dlya menya tema. Rassuzhdeniya zhe o
sposobah adekvatnoj peredachi vsego etogo v russkom perevode navodyat na menya
tosku. Ee stihi napisany dostatochno ploho, chtoby eshche i narochno koverkat' ih
po-russki radi sohraneniya kakoj-nibud' specifiki sintaksicheskih modelej.
Esli by ya mog, ya voobshche napisal by vse eto inache, luchshe. No ya ne mogu.
Poetomu i zanimayus' perevodami.
Net u menya ohoty rassuzhdat' i o kul'turno-istoricheskom znachenii poezii
|mili Dikinson. |to tema slishkom dlya menya obshchaya. Dlya velikih poetov i bez
togo zagotovleno mnogo dezhurnyh slov. |mili Dikinson govorila s vechnost'yu!
Po otnosheniyu k amerikanke eta fraza vstrechaetsya chashche vsego. YA nichego ne hochu
govorit' o vechnosti. V lyubom sluchae, naibolee citiruemye stroki Dikinson --
o Pis'mah Miru, o Dushe, Zapirayushchej Dver', ob |kipazhe Kavalera-Smert' --
kazhutsya mne nichut' ne bolee glubokimi, chem stihi o cvetah i babochkah --
sovsem prostye i detskie.
S moej tochki zrenie odno iz glavnyh dostoinstv ee stihov sostoit v tom,
chto ih ochen' mnogo i oni pochti vse odinakovye, kak kameshki na beregu morya.
Po otdel'nosti oni imeyut malo cennosti. No vse vmeste proizvodyat strannyj
effekt -- chto-to vrode pustogo plyazha, odinokoj figury na beregu... Koroche,
vechnost'.
Perevod -- eto igra. Razumeetsya, vo vsyakoj igre est' smysl. Bud' to
udovletvorenie sobstvennyh ambicij ili reshenie vysokih zadach
issledovatel'skogo ili kul'turnogo svojstva. No i eto igra. I podlinnyj
smysl ee igrayushchemu nevedom. Lichno mne vsegda nravilos' perebirat' kameshki na
beregu. Hodovoj cennosti v nih -- nikakoj. Krasivymi oni stanovyatsya, tol'ko
esli smochit' ih v more lyudskoj sentimental'nosti ili pomestit' v akvarium --
v iskusstvennyj mirok s pokupnymi zolotymi rybkami. Prichem samym krasivym
vse ravno pokazhetsya butylochnoe steklyshko.
Leonid Sitnik
|mili Dikinson
Kak poet, |mili Dikinson nachinala s dvuh ogromnyh nedostatkov --
neveroyatnoj legkosti stihotvorchestva i uvlecheniya durnymi obrazcami. Pozzhe
ona dolzhna byla zapoem chitat' SHekspira, Miltona, Gerberta, velikih
anglijskih poetov svoego veka, i izvestno, kakoe vliyanie oni okazali na ee
yazyk, no izvestno takzhe, naskol'ko malo zatronulo eto vliyanie stihotvornye
formy, kotorye ona ispol'zovala. Ishodnym punktom dlya nee byli
sentimental'nye nadpisi, chto delayut na podarkah, hristianskij ezhegodnik,
gazety, svetskie zhurnaly -- lyubimoe chtenie svyashchennikov, utonchennyh dam i
chuvstvitel'nyh natur. No dazhe v sbornikah cerkovnyh gimnov vliyanie na nee
okazyvali, po vsej vidimosti, daleko ne luchshie poety. I hotya ona vvela
neskol'ko porazitel'nyh novshestv v tom, chto kasaetsya form, ne menee
porazitel'nym yavlyaetsya to, chto ona ne sdelala dazhe popytki ujti ot
shestistopnoj stroficheskoj shemy, s kotoroj nachinala. YA predpochitayu videt' v
etom eshche odnu illyustraciyu zastoya v ee razvitii, kotoryj my obnaruzhivaem
povsyudu. Ona proyavlyala neobychajnuyu smelost' v tom, chto ona delala v ramkah
etih shem (ona skoro porvala ih shvy), no forma poezii i do nekotoroj stepeni
sort poezii, kotoroj ona voshishchalas' devochkoj, ostalis' neizmennymi v
stihah, kotorye ona pisala do samogo konca.
V aprele 1862 goda (ej shel togda 32-j god) ona pisala polkovniku
Higginsonu: "YA ne sochinyala stihov, za isklyucheniem odnogo ili dvuh, do
proshloj zimy, ser". Do sih por ochen' malo stihotvorenij s uverennost'yu
datirovany bolee rannim periodom, no mne kazhetsya, chto zdes' ona imela v vidu
otbor: ne sochinyala stihov vysshego soznatel'nogo urovnya. Est' nemalo
stihotvorenij, napisannyh priblizitel'no v eto vremya i, nesomnenno, ranee
(zdes', estestvenno, my kasaemsya lyubimejshego punkta sostavitelej antologij),
takih kak "If I Can Stop One Heart from Breaking", ili "I Taste a Liquor
Never Brewed", ili "To Fight Aloud Is Very Brave", kotorye govoryat o nalichii
dostatochno bol'shogo opyta v stihotvorchestve. Perehody ot odnoj strofy k
drugoj ochen' iskusny i predpolagayut obshirnuyu praktiku, na lyudyah ili v tajne.
Mne kazhetsya nesomnennym, chto kogda okolo 1861 goda |mili Dikinson sobralas'
pisat' samym ser'eznym obrazom, ona dolzhna byla ne tol'ko vybirat'sya iz
zapadni prirodnoj sposobnosti k stihotvorchestvu, no i borot'sya s uzhe davno
vyrabotavshejsya sposobnost'yu k vneshnej effektnosti -- v legkom pafose i
legkoj epigramme.
Kak raz pered tem, kak poslat' pervye obrazcy svoih rabot polkovniku
Higginsonu, ona vyigrala reshayushchuyu bitvu so svoim navykom k legkosti. Ona
nashla muzhestvo pisat' stihi, "oskorblyavshie razum" ee sovremennikov.
Polkovnika Higginsona shokirovalo ne to, chto ona inogda pribegala k "plohim"
rifmam (stol' chastym v poezii missis Brauning), i ne to, chto ona podmenyala
rifmu assonansami, i dazhe ne to, chto ona podchas otkazyvalas' ot rifmy voobshche
(podobnye priemy on prinimal u Uolta Uitmana, ch'i raboty on rekomendoval ej
dlya chteniya), -- no to, chto vse eti nepravil'nosti soedinyalis' i byli gluboko
vnedreny v naibolee tradicionnuyu iz vseh stihotvornyh form.
Po proshestvii mnogih let my mozhem nabrat'sya smelosti i vosproizvesti
hod ee bor'by. Novaya volna zahlestnula vse ee sushchestvo; ej zahotelos'
skazat' so strast'yu to, chto do etogo ona govorila igrayuchi, govorila s
koketstvom. Novye vysoty -- osobenno v novyh stranah -- vzyvayut k novym
formam. Detskaya privyazannost', tem ne menee, meshala ej otkazat'sya ot
stroficheskih shem ee rannego chteniya. Ona otvernulas' ot pravil'nyh rifm, ot
vechnyh "krov'-lyubov'" i "slezy-grezy", ne potomu, chto ej bylo len' vozit'sya
s nimi, a potomu chto pravil'nye rifmy kazalis' vneshnim vyrazheniem
vnutrennego konservatizma. Ona nazyvala pravil'nye rifmy "prozoj" -- "oni
zatykayut menya v proze" -- i v tom zhe stihotvorenii ona nazyvala ih
"rabstvom".
Odno iz ee izobretenij naglyadno demonstriruet nam, naskol'ko osoznavala
ona to, chto delala. Ona iskusno predlagala nam ryad vse bolee pravil'nyh
rifm, chtoby nashe uho zhdalo sleduyushchej, i zatem v zavershayushchem stihe
otkazyvalas' ot rifmy voobshche. Stihotvorenie "Of Tribulation These Are They"
predlagaet nam "white-designate", "times-palms", "soil-mile", "road-Saved!"
(kursiv ee). Sozdaetsya effekt poehavshej nad nashimi golovami kryshi. V
stihotvorenie vtorgaetsya nesopostavimoe. V "I'll Tell Thee All -- How Blank
It Grew" ona raspahivaet vse okna v zaklyuchenie slovami "outvisions
paradise", nerifmovannymi posle treh strof neobyknovenno pravil'nyh rifm.
"Uchitel'" vygovarival ej za derzost', no ona stoyala na svoem. Ona ne
snizoshla do ob®yasnenij ili zashchity. Nezhelanie polkovnika publikovat' ee
raboty pokazalo ej, chto on ne schitaet ee poetom, skol' ni porazhali by ego
otdel'nye frazy. Ona prodolzhala izredka vklyuchat' stihotvoreniya v pis'ma k
druz'yam, no oni, vidimo, ne prosili ee pokazat' "pobol'she". Nadezhda na
podderzhku i mysli o sovremennoj auditorii stanovilis' vse bolee otdalennymi.
I vse zhe mysl' o vozmozhnosti literaturnoj slavy, okonchatel'nogo torzhestva,
nikogda ne ostavlyala ee. Stihotvorenie za stihotvoreniem ona nasmehalas' nad
izvestnost'yu. Ona sravnivala ee s aukcionom i s kvakan'em lyagushek; no
odnovremenno ona privetstvovala slavu kak posvyashchenie v san, kak "zhiznennyj
svet" poeta. CHto mogla ona predprinyat' v etoj situacii? Ona delala pyat'
shagov vpered i dva shaga nazad. Napisat' dve tysyachi stihov -- eto nemalyj shag
v napravlenii literaturnyh prityazanij, odnako sostoyanie, v kotorom ona
ostavila ih, -- ne menee yavnoj otstuplenie. Ona obrashchalas' k potomkam, chtoby
zasvidetel'stvovat', naskol'ko ej bezrazlichno ego odobrenie, no ona ne
unichtozhila svoego truda. Ona ne unichtozhila dazhe nabroski, chernoviki,
napisannye na krayu stola. Esli by ona perepisala vse nachisto, eto oznachalo
by pyat' shagov vpered i odin shag nazad; esli by ona rasporyadilas', chtoby ee
raboty byli sozhzheny drugimi, eto bylo by tri shaga nazad.
YA uveren, chto ona zashla dazhe dal'she v svoem zhelanii pokazat'
bezrazlichie k nashemu mneniyu; ona ne stol'ko oskorbila nash razum, skol'ko
posmeyalas' nad nim. CHitaya naibolee dostovernye ee teksty, my s udivleniem
obnaruzhivaem, chto stihotvorenie za stihotvoreniem s grehom popolam
zakanchivaetsya kakoj-nibud' banal'nost'yu ili nachinaetsya ochen' suho, a potom
karabkaetsya k vostorzhennosti. Nikto ne govorit, chto ona byla svobodna ot
ogrehov suzhdeniya ili vkusa, no poslednie tri slova v "How Many Times These
Low Feet Staggered" ili poslednyaya stroka v "They Put Us Far Apart" yavlyayutsya,
s tochki zreniya poezii, samym vyzyvayushchim cinizmom -- pervye kak bezvkusica,
vtoraya kak kakofoniya.
Inymi slovami, |mili Dikinson chasto pisala narochno ploho. Ona
dejstvitel'no ne iskala vashego ili moego odobreniya, odobreniya lyudej, ne
sposobnyh otdelit' vtorostepennogo ot glavnogo. Ona podcherknuto otstranilas'
ot nashih chelovecheskih, chelovecheskih, chelovecheskih suzhdenij i peresudov. Kak
my videli, ona obozhglas', esli ne sgorela, na slishkom chelovecheskom v
semejnyh vzaimootnosheniyah. Zatem ona byla ostavlena -- "predana", kak ona
sama nazyvaet eto -- chelovekom (a ya predpochitayu dumat', posledovatel'no
celym ryadom lyudej), kotorogo ona lyubila bol'she vsego. Ona zakrylas' ot nas
-- v svoem dome; i dazhe v svoem dome ona zakrylas': neskol'ko staryh druzej
dolzhny byli razgovarivat' s nej cherez poluotkrytuyu dver'. Ee vzglyad na lyudej
stanovilsya vse bolee i bolee abstraktnym. Ona ne otvergla nas okonchatel'no,
no ej vse bol'she nravilas' mysl', chto nasha cennost' znachitel'no povyshaetsya,
kogda my umiraem. Ej hvatilo smelosti vzglyanut' v lico tomu faktu, chto,
vozmozhno, net nikakoj drugoj zhizni: v stihotvorenii "Their Height in Heaven
Comforts Not" ona priznaet, chto vse eto lish' "dom predpolozhenij... na
granice polej vozmozhnogo". No tol'ko takaya kompaniya neobremenennyh nichem
zemnym mogla by ponyat', o chem ona govorit. Vseh ostal'nyh |mili postaralas'
odurachit'. V stihotvorenii, kotoroe nachinaetsya so slov "Trud, sdelannyj dlya
Vechnosti, dlya glavnoj chasti Vremeni", rech' v pervuyu ochered' vse-taki ne o
knigah, kotorye prodayutsya v magazinah.
Tornton Uajlder
|imili Dikinson. Stihotvoreniya
Original'nyj tekst, numeraciya i vremya napisaniya stihotvorenij vzyaty iz
"Polnogo sobraniya stihotvorenij |mili Dikinson" pod redakciej Tomasa
Dzhonsona
A sepal, petal, and a thorn
Upon a common summer's morn --
A flask of Dew -- A Bee or two --
A Breeze -- a caper in the trees --
And I'm a Rose!
1858
Rostok, listok i lepestok
I solnca utrennij potok --
Rosa v trave -- pchela il' dve --
Edva zametnyj veterok
I ya -- cvetok.
Perevod L. Sitnika
I had a guinea golden --
I lost it in the sand --
And tho' the sum was simple
And pounds were in the land --
Still, had it such a value
Unto my frugal eye --
That when I could not find it --
I sat me down to sigh.
I had a crimson Robin --
Who sang full many a day
But when the woods were painted,
He, too, did fly away --
Time brought me other Robins --
Their ballads were the same --
Still, for my missing Troubador
I kept the "house at hame."
I had a star in heaven --
One "Pleiad" was its name --
And when I was not heeding,
It wandered from the same.
And tho' the skies are crowded --
And all the night ashine --
I do not care about it --
Since none of them are mine.
My story has a moral --
I have a missing friend --
"Pleiad" its name, and Robin,
And guinea in the sand.
And when this mournful ditty
Accompanied with tear --
Shall meet the eye of traitor
In country far from here --
Grant that repentance solemn
May seize upon his mind --
And he no consolation
Beneath the sun may find.
1858
U menya byla gineya
Zolotaya, no v peske
YA gineyu poteryala.
I hotya lezhit vezde
Funtov na zemle nemalo --
Ih s zemli ne podnimala,
Potomu chto na moj glaz
Berezhlivyj vse zhe eto --
Tozhe cennaya moneta,
I gineyu vsyakij raz
Esli ya ne nahodila,
YA sadilas' i vzdyhala.
U menya byla zaryanka --
Karmazinovaya ptica,
CHto mne pela spozaranku
Celyj den', a posle -- noch',
No lish' les utratil sen',
Kak ona umchalas' proch'.
Priletyat drugie pticy --
Pesni te zhe ih, konechno,
No dlya sginuvshego druga
Budu ya derzhat' skvorechnik.
U menya zvezda na nebe,
Nazyvaetsya -- Pleyada,
I kogda brozhu odna ya,
To ona so mnoyu ryadom.
I pust' zvezd nad nami -- kom'ya
I vse nebo polyhaet,
Ne zabochus' ni o kom ya,
Lish' odna iz nih rodnaya.
Est' moral' u etoj pesni --
Bylo u menya tri druga --
Odnogo zvala -- Pleyada,
Ptica, chto umchalas' k yugu,
I gineya na peske.
No lish' pesenka prostaya
Do ushej druzej propavshih
Doneset, chto ya v toske,
To ne budet im spasen'ya
Ot pechali, poka tut,
V zolotom moem peske,
Oni solnca ne najdut.
Perevod L. Sitnika
I never lost as much but twice,
And that was in the sod.
Twice have I stood a beggar
Before the door of God!
Angels -- twice descending
Reimbursed my store --
Burglar! Banker -- Father!
I am poor once more!
1858
YA vse teryala dvazhdy
U smertnogo poroga,
Stoyala dvazhdy nishchej
Pered dveryami Boga!
I angel -- dvazhdy padshij --
Mne vozmeshchal poteri.
Otec! Bankir! Grabitel'!
YA vnov' stoyu u dveri!
Perevod L. Sitnika
Papa above!
Regard a Mouse
O'erpowered by the Cat!
Reserve within thy kingdom
A "Mansion" for the Rat!
Snug in seraphic Cupboards
To nibble all the day,
While unsuspecting Cycles
Wheel solemnly away!
1859
Papa svyshe!
Podumaj o myshi
V koshach'ih lapah!
Najdi na svete
Priyut ej, Papa!
V Tvoem Bufete
Daj vyzhdat' noch',
Pokuda Sfery
Ukatyat proch'!
Perevod L. Sitnika
Some things that fly there be --
Birds -- Hours -- the Bumblebee --
Of these no Elegy.
Some things that stay there be --
Grief -- Hills -- Eternity --
Nor this behooveth me.
There are that resting, rise.
Can I expound the skies?
How still the Riddle lies!
1859
Kakie-to veshchi letyat, no oni --
Pticy -- Pchely -- Dni --
Ne iz etoj |legii.
Kakie-to veshchi stoyat, no oni --
Gore -- Holmy -- Ogni --
|tomu ne srodni.
|to -- pokoyas' -- dvizhetsya izdaleka,
Kak eshche skazat' -- oblaka?
Razgadka legka.
Perevod L. Sitnika
The Daisy follows soft the Sun --
And when his golden walk is done --
Sits shyly at his feet --
He -- waking -- finds the flower there --
Wherefore -- Marauder -- art thou here?
Because, Sir, love is sweet!
We are the Flower -- Thou the Sun!
Forgive us, if as days decline --
We nearer steal to Thee!
Enamored of the parting West --
The peace -- the flight -- the Amethyst --
Night's possibility!
1859
Cvetok sledit za solncem vzglyadom,
I k vecheru, zametiv ryadom
S soboj glaza cvetka,
Ono vorchit, sklonivshis' nizko:
"Zachem ko mne sadish'sya blizko?"
"Zatem, chto zhizn' sladka!"
My vse -- cvety, a Ty -- svetilo!
Prosti nas, esli ne hvatilo
Nam dnya tebya lyubit', --
My vlyubleny v tvoi zakaty,
V tvoi polety i agaty,
I v polnoch' vperedi!
Perevod L. Sitnika
What Inn is this
Where for the night
Peculiar Traveller comes?
Who is the Landlord?
Where the maids?
Behold, what curious rooms!
No ruddy fires on the hearth --
No brimming Tankards flow --
Necromancer! Landlord!
Who are these below?
1859
CHto za priyut,
Gde do utra
Polny gostyami nomera,
No ne edyat zdes' i ne p'yut?
Kto zdes' hozyain? Gde prisluga?
I pochemu tak tesen ugol?
Ne vidno plameni v kamine,
I pennyh kruzhek net v pomine?
Sluga! Hozyain! Gospodin!
Kto ty, v treh oblikah edin?
Perevod L. Sitnika
My friend attacks my friend!
Oh Battle picturesque!
Then I turn Soldier too,
And he turns Satirist!
How martial is this place!
Had I a mighty gun
I think I'd shoot the human race
And then to glory run!
1859
Moj drug napal na druga!
CHto za krovavyj boj!
YA vzdumala vmeshat'sya,
Oni lish' posmeyalis' nado mnoj,
I snova vzyalis' drug za druzhku!
YA okazalas' lishnej tret'ej!
Kogda by mne -- bol'shuyu pushku,
YA rasstrelyala b vseh na svete!
Perevod L. Sitnika
Talk with prudence to a Beggar
Of "Potose," and the mines!
Reverently, to the Hungry
Of your viands, and your wines!
Cautious, hint to any Captive
You have passed enfranchised feet!
Anecdotes of air in Dungeons
Have sometimes proved deadly sweet!
1859
O sokrovishchah i zlate
Pobeseduj mudro s nishchim.
A golodnomu lyubezno
Rasskazhi o vkusnoj pishche.
Namekni hotya by vzgyadom
Zaklyuchennomu o begstve.
Dazhe lozh' sladka byvaet
Sredi gorestej i bedstvij.
Perevod L. Sitnika
If this is "fading"
Oh let me immediately "fade"!
If this is "dying"
Bury me, in such a shroud of red!
If this is "sleep,"
On such a night
How proud to shut the eye!
Good Evening, gentle Fellow men!
Peacock presumes to die!
1859
O esli eto -- "uvyadan'e",
Ono dejstvitel'no prekrasno!
O esli eto -- "umiran'e",
Pohoronite menya v krasnom!
I esli eto -- "son",
V podobnyj vecher
Mne bol'she ne na chto smotret'!
Moj nezhnyj drug, do skoroj vstrechi!
Pavlin predpochitaet umeret'!
Perevod L. Sitnika
To fight aloud, is very brave --
But gallanter, I know
Who charge within the bosom
The Cavalry of Woe --
Who win, and nations do not see --
Who fall -- and none observe --
Whose dying eyes, no Country
Regards with patriot love --
We trust, in plumed procession
For such, the Angels go --
Rank after Rank, with even feet --
And Uniforms of Snow.
1859
Srazhat'sya smelo -- slavnyj trud,
No budet tot hrabree,
Kto razob'et v svoej grudi
Pechali kavaleriyu.
Kto pobedit -- ne na vidu,
Padet -- nikem ne znaem,
CHej grob ne budut provozhat'
Vostorga polnym vzglyadom.
No Angely za nim pojdut,
Perom kachaya nezhnym,
Za stroem stroj, chekanya shag,
V sherengah belosnezhnyh.
Perevod L. Sitnika
Besides the Autumn poets sing
A few prosaic days
A little this side of the snow
And that side of the Haze --
A few incisive Mornings --
A few Ascetic Eves --
Gone -- Mr. Bryant's "Golden Rod" --
And Mr. Thomson's "sheaves."
Still, is the bustle in the Brook --
Sealed are the spicy valves --
Mesmeric fingers softly touch
The Eyes of many Elves --
Perhaps a squirrel may remain --
My sentiments to share --
Grant me, Oh Lord, a sunny mind --
Thy windy will to bear!
1859
Ne tol'ko osen'yu poyut
Poety, no i v dni,
Kogda meteli vihri v'yut
I treskayutsya pni.
Uzhe utrami inej,
I svetom dni skupy,
Na klumbe astry otcveli
I sobrany snopy.
Eshche voda svoj legkij beg
Stremit -- no holodna,
I el'fov zolotistyh vek
Komnulis' pal'cy sna.
Ostalas' belka zimovat',
V duplo upryatov klad.
O, daj mne, Gospodi, tepla --
CHtob vyderzhat' Tvoj hlad!
Perevod A.Gavrilova
Soul, Wilt thou toss again?
By just such a hazard
Hundreds have lost indeed --
But tens have won an all --
Angel's breathless ballot
Lingers to record thee --
Imps in eager Caucus
Raffle for my Soul!
1859
Dusha, ty volnuesh'sya snova?
No v etoj bezumnoj igre
Iz soten edva li desyat'
Vernutsya, ne pogorev.
I angely delayut stavki
I, ne dysha, glyadyat,
Kak demony -- moyu dushu
Zakladyvaya -- galdyat.
Perevod L. Sitnika
An altered look about the hills --
A Tyrian light the village fills --
A wider sunrise in the morn --
A deeper twilight on the lawn --
A print of a vermillion foot --
A purple finger on the slope --
A flippant fly upon the pane --
A spider at his trade again --
An added strut in Chanticleer --
A flower expected everywhere --
An axe shrill singing in the woods --
Fern odors on untravelled roads --
All this and more I cannot tell --
A furtive look you know as well --
And Nicodemus' Mystery
Receives its annual reply!
1859
Menyayushchijsya vid holmov --
Tirijskij svet sredi domov --
V polneba rozovyj rassvet
I sumerek zelenyj cvet --
Pod klenom prelaya listva --
Po sklonam zheltaya trava --
Bien'e muhi o steklo --
Pauch'e zloe remeslo --
I novyj golos petuha --
I ozhidanie cvetka --
I pen'e topora vdali --
I zapah torfa ot zemli --
Vse eto v poru pervyh groz --
I etot zvuk, i etot cvet --
I Nikodim na svoj vopros --
Vse poluchaet svoj otvet.
Perevod A. Gavrilova
Dust is the only Secret --
Death, the only One
You cannot find out all about
In his "native town."
Nobody know "his Father" --
Never was a Boy --
Hadn't any playmates,
Or "Early history" --
Industrious! Laconic!
Punctual! Sedate!
Bold as a Brigand!
Stiller than a Fleet!
Builds, like a Bird, too!
Christ robs the Nest --
Robin after Robin
Smuggled to Rest!
1860
Prah -- odna tol'ko Tajna,
Smert' -- odin lish' Sekret,
O kotorom v ego "rodnom gorode"
Svedenij net.
Nikto ne videl "ego Otca" --
Ne pomnil, chtob on mog rasti --
Ne bylo u nego ni druzej,
Ni "Detstva. YUnosti" --
Trudolyubivyj! Besslovnyj!
Tochnyj! Ne znavshij vrazhdy!
Derzkij, slovno Razbojnik!
I tishe vody!
Sam -- kak pernatyj!
Bog kradet gnezda --
Pticu za pticej
Pohishchaya k zvezdam!
Perevod L. Sitnika
'Tis so much joy! 'Tis so much joy!
If I should fail, what poverty!
And yet, as poor as I,
Have ventured all upon a throw!
Have gained! Yes! Hesitated so --
This side the Victory!
Life is but Life! And Death, but Death!
Bliss is, but Bliss, and Breath but Breath!
And if indeed I fail,
At least, to know the worst, is sweet!
Defeat means nothing but Defeat,
No drearier, can befall!
And if I gain! Oh Gun at Sea!
Oh Bells, that in the Steeples be!
At first, repeat it slow!
For Heaven is a different thing,
Conjectured, and waked sudden in --
And might extinguish me!
1860
Veselee! Veselee!
Porazhen'e -- ne beda!
V nishchete odna poterya
Vam ne sdelaet vreda;
Ne koleblyas', bros'te bedy
Po tu storonu pobedy!
ZHizn' -- lish' zhizn', a smert' -- lish' smert'!
Bud' blagoslovenna, tverd',
Na kotoroj, lish' igraya,
Mozhno vybrat'sya iz ada.
Bol'she nichego ne nado,
CHtoby vy dostigli raya.
A pobeda -- v pushki bejte!
I, uslyshav perezvon
Kolokol'nyj, ne robejte!
V nebesah inoj zakon.
V nebesah, prosnuvshis' vdrug,
Pozabudesh' svoj ispug.
Perevod YA. Bergera
As if some little Arctic flower
Upon the polar hem --
Went wandering down the Latitudes
Until it puzzled came
To continents of summer --
To firmaments of sun --
To strange, bright crowds of flowers --
And birds, of foreign tongue!
I say, As if this little flower
To Eden, wandered in --
What then? Why nothing,
Only, your inference therefrom!
1860
Predstav', chto malen'kij cvetok
Iz severnyh shirot
Spustilsya vniz vdol' dolgoty
I vot, otkryvshi rot,
Glyadit na letnij kontinent,
Na solnce bez granic,
Na pestruyu tolpu cvetov,
Na inostrancev ptic!
Skazhi, pust' dazhe eto Raj,
Kuda zabrel cvetok,
To chto s togo? Kakoj tomu
Ty podvedesh' itog!
Perevod L. Sitnika
If I shouldn't be alive
When the Robins come,
Give the one in Red Cravat,
A Memorial crumb.
If I couldn't thank you,
Being fast asleep,
You will know I'm trying
Why my Granite lip!
1860
Esli mne zhivoj ne vstretit'
Ptic, vernuvshihsya na nebo,
Bros' odnoj iz nih, chto v krasnom,
Pominal'nyj myakish hleba.
Esli ya tebe spasibo,
Zadremav, skazat' zabudu,
Znaj, chto etogo hoteli
Moi kamennye guby.
Perevod L. Sitnika
I should not dare to leave my friend,
Because -- because if he should die
While I was gone -- and I -- too late --
Should reach the Heart that wanted me --
If I should disappoint the eyes
That hunted -- hunted so -- to see --
And could not bear to shut until
They "noticed" me -- they noticed me --
If I should stab the patient faith
So sure I'd come -- so sure I'd come --
It listening -- listening -- went to sleep --
Telling my tardy name --
My Heart would wish it broke before --
Since breaking then -- since breaking then --
Were useless as next morning's sun --
Where midnight frosts -- had lain!
1860
Ne dolzhen byt' ostavlen drug --
Ved' esli Smert' k nemu pridet,
Kogda menya ne budet, -- ruk
Laskayushchih on ne najdet.
I esli vzglyada moego --
Kotorogo on zhdal i zhdal --
Ne vstretit, -- on glaza svoi
Zakryt' ne smozhet, hot' ustal.
I esli veru ya ub'yu --
CHto ya pridu, chto ya pridu, --
On budet imya povtoryat'
Moe v goryachechnom bredu.
Tak luchshe ran'she ya umru --
O, luchshe ran'she, chem potom, --
CHto tolku v Solnce poutru,
Kogda Zemlya pokryta l'dom!
Perevod A.Gavrilova
Safe in their Alabaster Chambers --
Untouched my Morning
And untouched by Noon --
Lie the meek members of the Resurrection --
Rafter of Satin -- and Roof of Stone!
Grand go the Years -- in the Crescent -- above them --
Worlds scoop their Arcs --
And Firmaments -- row --
Diadems -- drop -- and Doges -- surrender --
Soundless as dots -- on a Disc of Snow --
Variant 1860
Ukryty v alebastrovyh palatah,
Beschuvstvenny k utram
I begu dnej --
Spyat krotko chleny Voskreseniya --
Stropila, shelk i krysha iz kamnej.
Prohodyat gody i miry nad nimi,
I vygibaet Nebosvod dugu --
Sdayutsya dozhi, padayut korony --
Bezzvuchno, kak snezhinki na snegu.
Perevod A. Gavrilova
The Court is far away --
No Umpire -- have I --
My Sovereign is offended --
To gain his grace -- I'd die!
I'll seek his royal feet --
I'll say -- Remember -- King --
Thou shalt -- thyself -- one day -- a Child --
Implore a larger -- thing --
That Empire -- is of Czars --
As small -- they say -- as I --
Grant me -- that day -- the royalty --
To intercede -- for Thee --
1861
Pravdy net -- i dalek
Spravedlivyj sud'ya --
Na menya rasserdilsya Korol' --
CHtob vernut' ego milost' -- ya
Umerla u monarshih nog
So slovami -- Korol' --
Ty -- kogda-nibud' -- budesh' tak mal --
A poprosish' -- o stol' --
Velikom -- o bol'shem -- chem Vlast' --
Budesh' men'she -- chem ya --
Obeshchaj mne -- v tot den' -- San --
Zastupit'sya -- za Tebya.
Perevod L. Sitnika
"Heaven" -- is what I cannot reach!
The Apple on the Tree --
Provided it do hopeless -- hang --
That -- "Heaven" is -- to Me!
The Color, on the Cruising Cloud --
The interdicted Land --
Behind the Hill -- the House behind --
There -- Paradise -- is found!
Her teasing Purples -- Afternoons --
The credulous -- decoy --
Enamored -- of the Conjuror --
That spurned us -- Yesterday!
1861
Mne ne doprygnut' do nebes --
Do yabloka na dreve,
Kotoroe podvesil bes,
Ne dotyanut'sya -- deve.
I yabloko na oblake
Plyvet v zapretnyj kraj --
Za kraj holma -- zemli za kraj --
Gde raspolozhen Raj!
Draznyashchij purpur poldnej
Pogasyat vechera --
Deshevyj fokus pokazal
Velikij mag -- Vchera
Perevod L. Sitnika
I've known a Heaven, like a Tent --
To wrap its shining Yards --
Pluck up its stakes, and disappear --
Without the sound of Boards
Or Rip of Nail -- Or Carpenter --
But just the miles of Stare --
That signalize a Show's Retreat --
In North America --
No Trace -- no Figment of the Thing
That dazzled, Yesterday,
No Ring -- no Marvel --
Men, and Feats --
Dissolved as utterly --
As Bird's far Navigation
Discloses just a Hue --
A plash of Oars, a Gaiety --
Then swallowed up, of View.
1861
YA znayu -- Nebo, kak shater,
Svernut kogda-nibud',
Pogruzyat v cirkovoj furgon
I tiho tronut v put'.
Ni perestuka molotkov,
Ni skrezheta gvozdej --
Uehal cirk -- i gde teper'
On raduet lyudej?
I to, chto uvlekalo nas
I teshilo vchera --
Areny osveshchennyj krug,
I blesk, i mishura, --
Razveyalis' i uneslis',
Ischezli bez sleda --
Kak ptic osennij karavan,
Kak oblakov gryada.
Perevod A. Gavrilova
Why -- do they shut Me out of Heaven?
Did I sing -- too loud?
But -- I can say a little "Minor"
Timid as a Bird!
Wouldn't the Angels try me --
Just -- once -- more --
Just -- see -- if I troubled them --
But don't -- shut the door!
Oh, if I -- were the Gentleman
In the "White Robe" --
And they -- were the little Hand -- that knocked --
Could -- I -- forbid?
1861
Pochemu menya na nebe --
Angely -- ne slyshat?
Slishkom gromko ya poyu?
Mozhno -- tishe!
Vot by angely menya
Ispytali
Vyslushat' vpolne mogli,
No ne stali.
Esli b ya byla muzhchinoj --
v "Beloj robe"
Ne bylo b otkaza mne
V etoj probe.
Perevod L. Sitnika
This -- is the land -- the Sunset washes --
These -- are the Banks of the Yellow Sea --
Where it rose -- or whither it rushes --
These -- are the Western Mystery!
Night after Night
Her purple traffic
Strews the landing with Opal Bales --
Merchantmen -- poise upon Horizons --
Dip -- and vanish like Orioles!
1861
Zemlya, chej bereg omyvayut
Zakata ZHeltye Morya;
Ona rastet i otlivaet,
Zagadkoj zapada gorya!
Iz nochi v noch' chredoj purpurnoj
Syuda stremyatsya parusa
Svalit' opalovye gruzy
I rastvorit'sya v nebesah.
Perevod YA. Bergera
Doubt Me! My Dim Companion!
Why, God, would be content
With but a fraction of the Life --
Poured thee, without a stint --
The whole of me -- forever --
What more the Woman can,
Say quick, that I may dower thee
With last Delight I own!
It cannot be my Spirit --
For that was thine, before --
I ceded all of Dust I knew --
What Opulence the more
Had I -- a freckled Maiden,
Whose farthest of Degree,
Was -- that she might --
Some distant Heaven,
Dwell timidly, with thee!
Sift her, from Brow to Barefoot!
Strain till your last Surmise --
Drop, like a Tapestry, away,
Before the Fire's Eyes --
Winnow her finest fondness --
But hallow just the snow
Intact, in Everlasting flake --
Oh, Caviler, for you!
1861
Ne verish' mne, moj strannyj drug!
Pover'! Ved' dazhe Bog
Krupicej ot takoj lyubvi
Dovolen byt' by mog.
Lish' vsyu sebya i navsegda --
CHto zhenshchina eshche
Sposobna dat', skazhi, chtob ya
Mogla prinyat' v raschet!
To ne dusha moya -- ona
Byla tvoej vsegda;
YA ustupila ves' svoj prah, --
Kakih eshche nagrad
Ne poluchil ty ot menya,
Kakoj eshche sud'boj
Gordit'sya deve, krome kak
Na nekih dal'nih nebesah,
Smirenno zhit' s toboj!
Prover' ee, sozhni ee,
Prosej ot lba do pyat,
I vse somneniya tvoi
V ee ogne sgoryat.
Razvej vsyu nezhnost', vse teplo,
Vsyu legkost' ee neg,
I ty poluchish' ledyanoj
I vechno chistyj sneg.
Perevod L. Sitnika
I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,
And Mourners to and fro
Kept treading -- treading -- till it seemed
That Sense was breaking through --
And when they all were seated,
A Service, like a Drum --
Kept beating -- beating -- till I thought
My Mind was going numb --
And then I heard them lift a Box
And creak across my Soul
With those same Boots of Lead, again,
Then Space -- began to toll,
As all the Heavens were a Bell,
And Being, but an Ear,
And I, and Silence, some strange Race
Wrecked, solitary, here --
And then a Plank in Reason, broke,
And I dropped down, and down --
And hit a World, at every plunge,
And Finished knowing -- then --
1861
Zvuk pohoron v moem mozgu,
I lyudi v chernom tam
Vse hodyat -- hodyat -- za moim
Rassudku popyatam.
No lish' usyadutsya oni,
Kak sluzhby mernyj boj --
Stuchit -- stuchit -- kak baraban --
Nad samoj golovoj.
I slyshu -- yashchik podnyali,
I skrip -- terpet' net sil --
Ih kozhanyh sapog voznik --
I mir -- zagolosil,
Kak budto nebo -- kolokol,
A sushchestvo -- lish' uho,
I ya, i tish' raskoloty,
I stranen put' -- i ruhnul
Togda rassudok slomlennyj,
I ya lechu vse vniz -- i vniz --
I b'yus' o mir, i, kazhdyj raz,
V soznanii, ostavlyayu zhizn'
Perevod L. Sitnika
I know some lonely Houses off the Road
A Robber'd like the look of --
Wooden barred,
And Windows hanging low,
Inviting to --
A Portico,
Where two could creep --
One -- hand the Tools --
The other peep --
To make sure All's Asleep --
Old fashioned eyes --
Not easy to surprise!
How orderly the Kitchen'd look, by night,
With just a Clock --
But they could gag the Tick --
And Mice won't bark --
And so the Walls -- don't tell --
None -- will --
A pair of Spectacles ajar just stir --
An Almanac's aware --
Was it the Mat -- winked,
Or a Nervous Star?
The Moon -- slides down the stair,
To see who's there!
There's plunder -- where
Tankard, or Spoon --
Earring -- or Stone --
A Watch -- Some Ancient Brooch
To match the Grandmama --
Staid sleeping -- there --
Day -- rattles -- too
Stealth's -- slow --
The Sun has got as far
As the third Sycamore --
Screams Chanticleer,
"Who's there"?
And Echoes -- Trains away,
Sneer -- "Where"!
While the old Couple, just astir,
Fancy the Sunrise -- left the door ajar!
1861
Est' pustye doma v storone ot dorog,
Vid kotoryh priyaten lish' voru --
Zakolocheny doskami,
Okna smotryat ne vyshe nog,
Priglashaya zajti
Po puti
Na porog,
Gde dvoe natknutsya na dver' vzaperti.
Odin -- s otmychkoj -- lezet v dom,
Drugoj kositsya -- vse li spit krugom.
Staryj glaz novyj vid
Vryad li chem-nibud' udivit.
Kak strogo smotrit ryad posudy na kuhne,
No mebel' ne uhnet,
I steny ne zagovoryat,
I tol'ko chasy davyat svoj nervnyj tik,
CHtob ne narushit' tish',
I ne tyavknet mysh'.
Pereglyanulis' ochki -- kalendar' nastorozhe.
|to zerkalo korchit rozhi,
Ili sproson'ya migaet zvezda?
Luna, ne trevozha parketa,
Vhodit vzglyanut' -- kto eto
Vlez syuda.
Zdes' grabezh -- gde
Lozhki i nozh,
CHashki, kruzhki,
Ser'gi, kamni,
CHasy -- staraya brosh'
Spit na podushke.
Izdali den' grohochet,
Vpolzaya v okna.
Solnechnyj svet uzhe tam,
Gde tret'ya smokva.
I kochet hlopochet --
"Kto eto zdes'?"
I eho hohochet,
Draznya ego -- "Est'"!
A staraya para uhodit, zhmuryas' na svet,
I dver' priotkrytaya smotrit ej vsled.
Perevod L. Sitnika
The Soul selects her own Society --
Then -- shuts the Door --
To her divine Majority --
Present no more --
Unmoved -- she notes the Chariots -- pausing --
At her low Gate --
Unmoved -- an Emperor be kneeling
Upon her Mat --
I've known her -- from an ample nation --
Choose One --
Then -- close the Valves of her attention --
Like Stone --
1862
Dusha vybiraet obshchestvo --
I zapiraet dver',
K ee Svyashchennoj Osobe
Ne proniknut' teper'.
Ona nepodvizhna, kogda kolesnica
Stoit u vorot,
I Imperator na kovrike,
Stav na koleni, zhdet.
Ona iz prostogo naroda
Vyberet odnogo,
I budet darit' vnimaniem
Tol'ko ego.
Perevod L. Sitnika
I'll tell you how the Sun rose --
A Ribbon at a time --
The Steeples swam in Amethyst --
The news, like Squirrels, ran --
The Hills untied their Bonnets --
The Bobolinks -- begun --
Then I said softly to myself --
"That must have been the Sun"!
But how he set -- I know not --
There seemed a purple stile
That little Yellow boys and girls
Were climbing all the while --
Till when they reached the other side,
A Dominie in Gray --
Put gently up the evening Bars --
And led the flock away --
1861
YA rasskazhu vam, kak voshodit solnce.
Po vremenam -- lish' polosa
I bashnya v more ametista,
Gde kraski skachut belkami na nebesa
Po golovam holmov, podnyavshih shlyapy
Iz ptich'ih staj, -- i tiho ya sebe skazala:
"Dolzhno byt', eto solnce pokazalos'!"
No kak ono saditsya -- ya ne znayu --
Purpurnoj lesenkoj,
Kotoroj zheltye devchonki i mal'chishki
Karabkayutsya veselo.
No lish' toj storony oni dostignut,
Kak ih nastavnik v serom
Uvodit vsyu gur'bu --
I zapiraet dveri...
Perevod L. Sitnika
When Night is almost done --
And Sunrise grows so near
That we can touch the Spaces --
It's time to smooth the Hair --
And get the Dimples ready --
And wonder we could care
For that old -- faded Midnight --
That frightened -- but an Hour --
1862
K ishodu dolgoj nochi
Tak blizok stal rassvet,
CHto mozhno den' potrogat',
I straha bol'she net.
Puskaj zhe greben' v delo!
Mni yamochki v shchekah!
A polnoch' -- proletela,
I chas lish' dlilsya strah
Perevod YA. Bergera
To lose one's faith -- surpass
The loss of an Estate --
Because Estates can be
Replenished -- faith cannot --
Inherited with Life --
Belief -- but once -- can be --
Annihilate a single clause --
And Being's -- Beggary --
1862
Utratit' veru -- huzhe, chem
Imen'e poteryat',
Imen'e mozhno vozvratit',
No very -- ne zanyat'.
V nasledstvo vmeste s zhizn'yu
Ona daetsya raz.
Ty -- nishchij, esli tronesh'
Odnu iz etih fraz.
Perevod L. Sitnika
There's been a Death, in the Opposite House,
As lately as Today --
I know it, by the numb look
Such Houses have -- alway --
The Neighbors rustle in and out --
The Doctor -- drives away --
A Window opens like a Pod --
Abrupt -- mechanically --
Somebody flings a Mattress out --
The Children hurry by --
They wonder if it died -- on that --
I used to -- when a Boy --
The Minister -- goes stiffly in --
As if the House were His --
And He owned all the Mourners -- now --
And little Boys -- besides --
And then the Milliner -- and the Man
Of the Appalling Trade --
To take the measure of the House --
There'll be that Dark Parade --
Of Tassels -- and of Coaches -- soon --
It's easy as a Sign --
The Intuition of the News --
In just a Country Town --
1862
Skoro v dome, chto naprotiv,
Kto-nibud' umret --
Po ego pustomu vzglyadu
Znala napered.
I teper' -- shurshat sosedi,
Doktor -- ukatil,
Kto-to okna s grubym stukom --
Rezko -- otvoril,
CHtoby vyvesit' matrasy.
Deti k nim speshat --
Ne na nih li kto-to umer
Tol'ko chas nazad.
D'yakon chopornyj prohodit --
Kak hozyain -- v dom,
Vsemi v nem rasporyazhayas'
I det'mi -- krugom.
A za nim -- portnoj -- i lyudi
Samyh strashnyh trat
Merku s doma snyat' yavilis' --
Budet zdes' parad
CHernyh lent i ekipazhej --
|to yasno kak
Ob®yavlenie zhivushchim
V sel'skih gorodkah.
Perevod L. Sitnika
They dropped like Flakes --
They dropped like Stars --
Like Petals from a Rose --
When suddenly across the June
A wind with fingers -- goes --
They perished in the Seamless Grass --
No eye could find the place --
But God can summon every face
Of his Repealless -- List.
1862
Kak Zvezdy, padali oni --
Daleki i blizki --
Kak Hlop'ya Snega v yanvare --
Kak s Rozy Lepestki --
Ischezli -- polegli v Trave
Vysokoj bez sleda --
I lish' Gospod' ih vseh v lico
Zapomnil navsegda.
Perevod A. Gavrilova
This is my letter to the World
That never wrote to Me --
The simple News that Nature told --
With tender Majesty
Her Message is committed
To Hands I cannot see --
For love of Her -- Sweet -- countrymen --
Judge tenderly -- of Me
1862
Zdes' pis'ma k miru ot menya,
CHto ne napishet mne, --
Skupye vesti Bytiya
V ih vyashchej prostote.
V ch'i ruki popadut oni,
Mne ne uznat' vovek, --
Tak radi Boga -- ne sudi
Ih strogo -- chelovek!
Perevod L. Sitnika
I died for Beauty -- but was scarce
Adjusted in the Tomb
When One who died for Truth, was lain
In an adjoining Room --
He questioned softly "Why I failed"?
"For Beauty", I replied --
"And I -- for Truth -- Themself are One --
We Brethren, are", He said --
And so, as Kinsmen, met a Night --
We talked between the Rooms --
Until the Moss had reached our lips --
And covered up -- our names --
1862
YA umerla za Krasotu,
V mogilu ya legla,
I tut sosed menya sprosil,
Za chto ya umerla.
"Za krasotu", -- skazala ya
I ponyala -- on rad.
"A ya za Pravdu, -- on skazal, --
Teper' tebe ya brat".
Kak rodstvenniki, chto v nochi
Drug druga obreli,
SHeptalis' my -- pokuda mhi
Nam gub ne opleli.
Perevod A. Gavrilova
I'm ceded -- I've stopped being Theirs --
The name They dropped upon my face
With water, in the country church
Is finished using, now,
And They can put it with my Dolls,
My childhood, and the string of spools,
I've finished threading -- too --
Baptized, before, without the choice,
But this time, consciously, of Grace --
Unto supremest name --
Called to my Full -- The Crescent dropped --
Existence's whole Arc, filled up,
With one small Diadem.
My second Rank -- too small the first --
Crowned -- Crowing -- on my Father's breast --
A half unconscious Queen --
But this time -- Adequate -- Erect,
With Will to choose, or to reject,
And I choose, just a Crown --
1862
YA udalyayus' -- ya uzhe ne vasha;
To imya, chto upalo na lico mne
S vodoj kogda-to v nashej sel'skoj cerkvi,
Mne ne posluzhit bol'she.
Teper' slozhite ego k kuklam,
K detstvu, k toj nitke pryazhi,
CHto stanovitsya vse ton'she.
Kreshchenaya bez vybora kogda-to,
Teper' v soznanii priobshchayus' slave
Svyashchennym imenem,
Zovushchim k polnote, kak polumesyac,
Napolnivshij vse svody bytiya
Volshebnym plamenem.
Vtoroe imya... Pervoe zvuchalo,
Kogda ya na rukah otca molchala
Princessoj spyashchej;
No teper' -- vse pravil'no, vse verno,
Imeya volyu vybrat' i otvergnut',
YA prinimayu -- tol'ko Carstvo.
Perevod L. Sitnika
If anybody's friend be dead
It's sharpest of the theme
The thinking how they walked alive --
At such and such a time --
Their costume, of a Sunday,
Some manner of the Hair --
A prank nobody knew but them
Lost, in the Sepulchre --
How warm, they were, on such a day,
You almost feel the date --
So short way off it seems --
And now -- they're Centuries from that --
How pleased they were, at what you said --
You try to touch the smile
And dip your fingers in the frost --
When was it -- Can you tell --
You asked the Company to tea --
Acquaintance -- just a few --
And chatted close with this Grand Thing
That don't remember you --
Past Bows, and Invitations --
Past Interview, and Vow --
Past what Ourself can estimate --
That -- makes the Quick of Woe!
1862
Kogda umret vash luchshij drug,
To vspomnite ostrej
Vsego, kak on zhivoj idet
V odin iz davnih dnej.
Ego kostyum v voskresnyj den',
Probor ego volos,
V odezhde meloch', chto s soboj
V mogilu on unes.
Kak bylo zharko v etot den'
Vy vspomnite, ne verya,
CHto eto bylo tak davno,
Kogda svezha poterya.
Kak rad on byl uslyshat' vas,
Kak tronula ulybka
Ugly ego luchistyh glaz,
Ved' smert' ego -- oshibka.
Kak, priglasiv ego na chaj,
Pokuda on ostynet,
O vazhnyh sporili veshchah,
CHto i ne vspomnit' nyne.
Poklony, priglasheniya,
Besedy, obeshchaniya --
Vse eto mimoletnaya
Pechal' vospominaniya!
Perevod YA. Bergera
The Heart asks Pleasure -- first --
And then -- Excuse from Pain --
And then -- those little Anodyness
That deaden suffering --
And then -- to go to sleep --
And then -- if it should be
The will of its Inquisitor
The privilege to die --
1862
Sperva my prosim radosti,
Potom -- pokoj lish' dat',
A pozzhe -- oblegcheniya,
CHtob tol'ko ne stradat'.
A posle -- tol'ko by usnut',
Kogda pojmem, chto vrach
Uzhe ne v silah nam pomoch',
A volen lish' palach.
Perevod YA. Bergera
I've seen a Dying Eye
Run round and round a Room --
In search of Something -- as it seemed --
Then Cloudier become --
And then -- obscure with Fog --
And then -- be soldered down
Without disclosing what it be
'Twere blessed to have seen --
1862
YA videl mertvye glaza,
Bezhavshie po krugu,
I byli Nechto otyskat'
Muchitel'ny potugi;
Zatem -- na nih upal tuman,
Zatem -- oni zakrylis',
I ne ponyat', na chem oni
V konce ostanovilis'.
Perevod L. Sitnika
The Brain, within its Groove
Runs evenly -- and true --
But let a Splinter swerve --
'Twere easier for You --
To put a Current back --
When Floods have slit the Hills --
And scooped a Turnpike for Themselves --
And trodden out the Mills --
1862
V izvilinah mozgi
tekli legko i rovno,
No otklonilis' vdrug
V techenii polnokrovnom,
I legche vody vspyat',
Sbezhavshie s holma,
Vernut', chem obuzdat'
Soshedshego s uma.
Perevod L. Sitnika
A Toad, can die of Light --
Death is the Common Right
Of Toads and Men --
Of Earl and Midge
The privilege --
Why swagger, then?
The Gnat's supremacy is large as Thine --
Life -- is a different Thing --
So measure Wine --
Naked of Flask -- Naked of Cask --
Bare Rhine --
Which Ruby's mine?
1862
Svet dlya zhaby -- otrava
Smert' -- eto obshchee pravo
ZHaby i cheloveka --
Nikto ne zhivet dva veka.
Raven pred smert'yu kazhdyj.
Nikto ne dobilsya slavy
Umeret' dvazhdy.
ZHizn' -- drugoe delo.
Krasnoe vino
L'yut v pustoe telo,
No kazhdomu ono
Raznoe dano.
Perevod L. Sitnika
Glee -- The great storm is over --
Four -- have recovered the Land --
Forty -- gone down together --
Into the boiling Sand --
Ring -- for the Scant Salvation --
Toll -- for the bonnie Souls --
Neighbor -- and friend -- and Bridegroom --
Spinning upon the Shoals --
How they will tell the Story --
When Winter shake the Door --
Till the Children urge --
But the Forty --
Did they -- come back no more?
Then a softness -- suffuse the Story --
And a silence -- the Teller's eye --
And the Children -- no further question --
And only the Sea -- reply --
1862
Radujtes'! Konchilas' burya!
CHetvero -- spaseny,
Sorok drugih ne vernulis'
Iz-pod kipyashchej volny.
V kolokol bej o spasennyh!
A o pogibshih moli --
Drug, sosed i nevesta --
Vodovorot na meli!
Dolgimi budut rasskazy
O chudnom spasen'i zimoj,
I sprosit rebenok: "A sorok?
Oni ne vernutsya domoj?"
Togda tishina vocaritsya,
I lyazhet na lica svet;
Rebenok bol'she ne sprosit,
No volny dadut otvet.
Perevod L. Sitnika
To know just how He suffered -- would be dear --
To know if any Human eyes were near
To whom He could entrust His wavering gaze --
Until it settled broad -- on Paradise --
To know if He was patient -- part content --
Was Dying as He thought -- or different --
Was it a pleasant Day to die --
And did the Sunshine face His way --
What was His furthest mind -- Of Home -- or God --
Or what the Distant say --
At news that He ceased Human Nature
Such a Day --
And Wishes -- Had He Any --
Just His Sigh -- Accented --
Had been legible -- to Me --
And was He Confident until
Ill fluttered out -- in Everlasting Well --
And if He spoke -- What name was Best --
What last
What One broke off with
At the Drowsiest --
Was He afraid -- or tranquil --
Might He know
How Conscious Consiousness -- could grow --
Till Love that was -- and Love too best to be --
Meet -- and the Junction be Eternity
1862
Uznat', kak stradal on -- uzhe nagrada;
Uznat', byl li kto-nibud' ryadom,
Komu ego vzglyad poslednij otpushchen,
Poka ne zastyt' emu -- v Rajskih kushchah.
Uznat', byl li on terpeliv -- umer v plache --
Skonchalsya, kak dumal -- ili inache --
Byl li tot den' blagopriyaten,
Dlya smerti, bezhavshej ego ob®yatij?
O chem on dumal -- o dome -- o Boge,
O tom, chto skazhut, uznav, chto bremya
Lyudskoj prirody s sebya on sbrosil
V takoe vremya?
ZHelan'ya -- imel li on ih?
Tol'ko by vzdoh -- chtob mogla ya uslyshat' --
Ne byl by slishkom tih.
I byl li on tak zhe doverchiv, dokole
Boli ne stalo slyshno -- v verhovnoj vole?
I esli on proiznes -- to ch'e imya?
CH'e on vykriknul pervym?
A ch'e v konce peremoloto bylo
YAzykom, tyazhelym, kak zhernov?
Byl li ispugan on -- ili spokoen?
Mog li on dumat'
O tom, chto poluchitsya v summe,
Kogda lyubov' -- chto byla -- i kotoraya budet,
Sol'yutsya pred vechnost'yu -- v lyudyah.
Perevod L. Sitnika
It was too late for Man --
But early, yet, for God --
Creation -- impotent to help --
But Prayer -- remained -- Our Side --
How excellent the Heaven --
When Earth -- cannot be had --
How hospitable -- then -- the face
Of our Old Neighbor -- God --
1862
Slishkom pozdno dlya cheloveka,
No rano dlya Boga
Spasat' tvoyu dushu;
Lish' molitva -- podmoga.
Kak horosho na nebe,
Skol'ko v like Gospodnem
Tepla, kogda on vyhodit
Po-sosedski -- v ispodnem!
Perevod L. Sitnika
Of all the Souls that stand create --
I have elected -- One --
When Sense from Spirit -- files away --
And Subterfuge -- is done --
When that which is -- and that which was --
Apart -- intrinsic -- stand --
And this brief Drama in the flesh --
Is shifted -- like a Sand --
When Figures show their royal Front --
And Mists -- are carved away,
Behold the Atom -- I preferred --
To all the lists of Clay!
1862
Iz sonma sotvorennyh Dush
YA vybrala odnu.
I esli vosparyaet Duh,
A Plot' idet ko dnu --
I to, chto bylo, i chto est',
Razdeleno navek --
I nasha drama vo ploti
S nazvaniem "CHelovek"
Konchaetsya, i moj venec
Valyaetsya v pyli --
Vot Atom, chto ya predpochla
Lyubym sortam Zemli.
Perevod A. Gavrilova
One need not be a Chamber -- to be Haunted --
One need not be a House --
The Brain has Corridors -- surpassing
Material Place --
Far safer, of a Midnight Meeting
External Ghost
Than its interior Confronting --
That Cooler Host.
Far safer, through an Abbey gallop,
The Stones a'chase --
Than Unarmed, one's a'self encounter --
In lonesome Place --
Ourself behind ourself, concealed --
Should startle most --
Assassin hid in our Apartment
Be Horror's least.
The Body -- borrows a Revolver --
He bolts the Door --
O'erlooking a superior spectre --
Or More --
1863
Ne nuzhno komnat prividen'yu,
Ne nuzhno doma;
V tvoej dushe vse koridory
Emu znakomy.
Uzhasna prizrachnaya polnoch',
I net ognya,
No huzhe, esli gost' prihodit
Sred' bela dnya.
Gluhaya postup' v starom zamke
Ne tak strashna,
Kak steregushchaya bezlunnoj noch'yu
Vas tishina.
Puskaj tvoe orud'e grozno
I dver' prochna,
Ona ne ostanovit prizrak,
CHto brodit -- v nas.
Perevod YA. Bergera
'Twould ease -- a Butterfly --
Elate -- a Bee --
Thou'rt neither --
Neither -- thy capacity --
But, Blossom, were I,
I would rather be
Thy moment
Than a Bee's Eternity --
Content of fading
Is enough for me --
Fade I unto Divinity --
And Dying -- Lifetime --
Ample as the Eye --
Her least attention raise on me --
1863
Legko byt' motyl'kom,
Eshche luchshe -- pcheloj.
No ty -- sushchestvuya mel'kom --
Ni v kom.
Horosho byt' cvetkom --
Vsyakij by predpochel
Ego kratkost'
Vechnosti pchel.
Udovol'stvie vyanut' --
Ne trebuya mnogogo -- vpolne --
|to velenie Bogovo -- po mne.
Umeret' -- zaglyanut' hotya raz
V etot glaz, chej ogromnyj zrachok
Zamechaet -- suzhayas' -- suchok.
Perevod L. Sitnika
Publication -- is the Auction
Of the Mind of Man --
Poverty -- be justifying
For so foul a thing
Possibly -- but We -- would rather
From Our Garret go
White -- Unto the White Creator --
Than invest -- our Snow --
Thought belong to Him who gave it --
Then -- to Him Who bear
Its Corporeal illustration -- Sell
The Royal Air --
In the Parcel -- Be the Merchant
Of the Heavenly Grace --
But reduce no Human Spirit
To Disgrace of Price --
1863
Publikaciya -- prodazha
Serdca i Uma,
|takoj torgovli luchshe
Nishchaya suma.
A byt' mozhet, luchshe dazhe
Pryamo s cherdaka
V belom perejti na Nebo --
Vlit'sya v oblaka.
Mysl' prinadlezhit tomu lish',
Kto ee nam dal,
I eshche tomu, kto posle
Za nee stradal.
Prodavaj hot' Bozh'yu milost'
I torguj Vesnoj --
Tol'ko Duha CHeloveka
Ne uniz' cenoj!
Perevod A. Gavrilova
She rose to His Requirement -- droppt
The Playthings of Her Life
To take the honorable Work
Of Woman and of Wife --
If ought She missed in Her new Day
Of Amplitude, or Awe --
Or first Prospective -- or the Gold
In using, wear away,
It lay unmentioned -- as the Sea
Develop Pearl and Weed,
But only to Himself -- be known
The Fathoms they abide --
Ona dorosla do togo, chtoby, brosiv
Igrushki, chto stali ej ne nuzhny,
Prinyat' pochetnuyu dolzhnost'
ZHenshchiny i zheny.
I esli o chem-to ona skuchaet --
O prezhnih dnyah, o toske,
O pervyh nadezhdah ili o zlate,
Istonchivshemsya na ruke,
Ona ob etom molchit -- kak more,
CHto pryachet chudovishch i zhemchuga,
I tol'ko sama ona znaet --
Kak ona gluboka.
Perevod L. Sitnika
Four Trees -- upon a solitary Acre --
Without Design
Or Order, or Apparent Action --
Maintain --
The Sun -- upon a Morning meets them --
The Wind.
No nearer Neighbor -- have they --
But God --
The Acre gives them -- Place.
They -- Him -- Attention of Passer by --
Of Shadow, or of Squirrel, haply --
Or Boy --
What Deed is Theirs unto the General Nature --
What Plan --
They severally -- retard -- or further --
Unknown --
CHetyre dereva -- v pustynnom meste --
Bez vsyakogo poryadka,
Ili plana, ili vidimosti smysla --
Rastushchih vmeste.
Solnce -- ih po utram privetstvuet --
Da veter --
Drugih sosedej -- krome Boga --
Blizhe netu.
Ih ugol im daet -- priyut --
Oni -- emu -- vnimanie prohozhih --
K teni ili -- esli eto deti -- k belke --
Dayut.
Kakoe im v Velikom Zamysle Prirody
Dostalos' mesto?
Oni -- v bezzhalostnoj otstavke -- ili vperedi --
Nam neizvestno.
Perevod L. Sitnika
He fought like those Who've nought to lose --
Bestowed Himself to Balls
As One who for a furher Life
Had not a further Use --
Invited Death -- with bold attempt --
But Death was Coy of Him
As Other Men, were Coy of Death --
To Him -- to live -- was Doom --
His Comrades, shifted like the Flakes
When Gusts reverse the Snow --
But He -- was left alive Because
Of Greediness to die --
1863
On bilsya yarostno -- sebya
Pod puli podstavlyal,
Kak budto bol'she nichego
ot ZHizni on ne zhdal.
On shel navstrechu Smerti -- no
Ona k nemu ne shla,
Bezhala ot nego -- i ZHizn'
Strashnej ee byla.
Kak hlop'ya, padali druz'ya,
Rosli sugroby tel,
No on ostalsya zhit' -- za to,
CHto umeret' hotel.
Perevod A. Gavrilova
Presentiment -- is that long Shadow -- on the Lawn --
Indicative that Suns go down --
The Notice to the startled Grass
That Darkness -- is about to pass --
1863
Predchuvstvie -- eto dlinnaya ten' na lugu,
Kogda solnce sgibaet svoj put' v dugu,
Govorya perepugannoj etim trave,
CHto noch' -- uzhe na dvore.
Perevod L. Sitnika
Grief is a Mouse --
And chooses Wainscot in the Breast
For His Shy House --
And baffles quest --
Grief is a Thief -- quick startled --
Pricks His Ear -- report to hear
Of that Vast Dark --
That swept His Being -- back --
Grief is a Juggler -- boldest at the Play --
Lest if He flinch -- the eye that way
Pounce on His Bruises -- One -- say -- or Three --
Grief is a Gourmand -- spare His luxury --
Best Grief is Tongueless -- before He'll tell --
Burn Him in the Public Square --
His Ashes -- will
Possibly -- if they refuse -- How then know --
Since a Rack couldn't coax a syllable -- now.
1863
Pechal' -- eto mysh',
CHto skrebetsya v grudi -- nyryaya
V svoyu chutkuyu tish' --
I v poiskah bystro shnyryaya.
Pechal' -- puglivyj vorishka --
Torchkom ego ushi -- chtob slushat'
Ogromnuyu Noch',
CHto smetet ego tel'ce -- proch'.
Pechal' -- eto shuler -- derzok v igre --
Dobavit v pule -- spishet v gore --
Peredernet -- odin -- ili tri -- smotri --
Pechal' -- eto skryaga, hranyashchij svoj klad -- vnutri.
Pechal' horosha, kogda ne govorit --
Na ploshchadi zhgi ee -- pust' gorit --
Ee pepel -- razvej po svetu --
Pechal' horosha -- esli molchit --
Pust' ee mchit -- veter.
Perevod L. Sitnika
By my Window have I for Scenery
Just a Sea -- with a Stem --
If the Bird and the Farmer -- deem it a "Pine" --
The Opinion will serve -- for them --
It has no Port, nor a "Line" -- but the Jays --
That split their route to the Sky --
Or a Squirrel, whose giddy Peninsula
May be easier reached -- this way --
For Inlands -- the Earth is the under side --
And the upper side -- is the Sun.
And its Commerce -- if Commerce it have --
Of Spice -- I infer from the Odors borne --
Of its Voice -- to affirm -- when the Wind is within --
Can the Dumb -- define the Divine?
The Definition of Melody -- is --
That Definition is none --
It -- suggests to our Faith.
They -- suggest to our Sight.
When the latter -- is put away
I shall meet with Conviction I somewhere met
That Immortality.
Was the Pine at my Window a "Fellow
Of the Royal" Infinity?
Apprehensions -- are God's introductions --
To be hallowed -- accordingly --
1863
Pejzazhem ya vizhu iz moego okna
Tol'ko more -- s vetvyami.
Esli ptica i fermer dumayut o nem -- "Sosna",
Pust' zovut etim imenem sami.
V nem net porta, net --linij, lish' sojka
CHertit svoj put' v nebe -- da belka
Na svoj podveshennyj poluostrov bojko
vzbiraetsya -- etoj dorogoj.
Dlya vnutrennih stran zemlya -- tam, gde niz,
A verh -- eto tam, gde solnce.
Ih kommerciya -- esli ona u nih est' -- sostoit iz
Torgovli pryanostyami -- sudya po aromatu.
Golosa -- chto krepchayut, kol' veter vglub'.
Mozhet nemoj nazvat' po imeni Boga?
Takoe opredelenie muzyki -- sut' --
Opredelyaet nemnogo.
Oni -- vzyvayut k nashim glazam.
Ono -- vzyvaet k nashej vere.
Esli pervoe -- otbrosit' proch',
YA budu znat', chto -- po krajnej mere --
Vstrechala Bessmertie.
Byla li Sosna pod moim oknom -- CHlenom
Korolevskogo Obshchestva Vechnosti?
Ponimanie -- kogda Bog priglashaet
K posvyashcheniyu -- sootvetstvenno.
Perevod L. Sitnika
This Consciousness that is aware
Of Neighbors and the Sun
Will be the one aware of Death
And that itself alone
Is traversing the interval
Experience between
And most profound experiment
Appointed unto Men --
How adequate unto itself
Its properties shall be
Itself unto itself and none
Shall make discovery.
Adventure most unto itself
The Soul condemned to be --
Attended by a single Hound
Its own identity.
1864
Soznanie, chto soznaet
I T'mu i Svet ravno,
Kogda-nibud' uznaet Smert',
No lish' ono odno
Dolzhno preodolet' razryv
Mezh kosmosom idej
I tem eksperimentom -- chto
Vozlozhen na lyudej.
Kak sootvetstvovat' sebe
Ono vo vsem dolzhno!
I kto Tvorec ego -- uznat'
Voveki ne dano.
Bluzhdat' vnutri sebya samoj
Dusha obrechena
S Povodyrem -- Brodyachim Psom,
I etot Pes -- ona.
Perevod A. Gavrilova
We outgrow love, like other things
And put it in the Drawer --
Till it an Antique fashion shows --
Like Costumes Grandsires wore.
1864
My vyrastaem iz lyubvi
I, zaperev v komode
Ee hranim, poka ona
Ne budet snova v mode
Perevod L. Sitnika
The Mountain sat upon the Plain
In his tremendous Chair --
His observation omnifold,
His inquest, everywhere --
The Seasons played around his knees
Like Children round a sire --
Grandfather of the Days is He
Of Dawn, the Ancestor --
1864
Gory sadyatsya v dolinu,
Kak v staroe kreslo,
Vzglyad ih, kak teni, dlinen,
Ih interes -- povsemesten.
Gody na ih kolenyah
Igrayut, kak deti,
Dedushki dnej oni
I predki stoletij.
Perevod L. Sitnika
Death is a Dialogue between
The Spirit and the Dust.
"Dissolve" says Death -- The Spirit "Sir
I have another Trust" --
Death doubts it -- Argues from the Ground --
The Spirit turns away
Just laying off for evidence,
An Overcoat of Clay.
1864
Smert' -- eto dolgij razgovor
Promezh Dushoj i Prahom.
"Vse tlen!" -- gnet Smert'. Dusha v otvet:
"Mne chuzhdy Vashi strahi".
Smert' smotrit v zemlyu, a Dusha,
CHtob spor zakonchit' dlinnyj,
Kak svoj poslednij argument
Snyala pal'to iz gliny.
Perevod L. Sitnika
The Soul should always stand ajar
That if the Heaven inquire
He will not be obliged to wait
Or shy of troubling Her
Depart, before the Host have slid
The Bolt unto the Door --
To search for the accomplished Guest,
Her Visitor, no more --
1865
Dusha dolzhna zhit' naraspashku,
CHtob k nej prishedshij Bog
Ne dozhidalsya u poroga,
Zastav ee vrasploh.
Otkroj zhe dver', poka Hozyain
Ne vyvesil zamok,
CHtoby smutit' ee vizitom
Nikto uzhe ne smog.
Perevod L. Sitnika
Except the smaller size
No lives are round --
These -- hurry to a sphere
And show and end --
The larger -- slower grow
And later hang --
The Summers of Hesperides
Are long.
1866
Lish' malen'kaya tvar'
Speshit rodit'sya --
CHtob pokazat' sebya
I udalit'sya.
Bol'shoe ne speshit
S prirodoj slit'sya --
Ved' leto Gesperid
Tak dolgo dlitsya!
Perevod A. Gavrilova
The Sky is low -- the Clouds are mean.
A Travelling Flake of Snow
Across a Barn or through a Rut
Debates if it will go --
A Narrow Wind complains all Day
How some one treated him
Nature, like Us, is sometimes caught
Without her Diadem.
1866
Nebo nizhe -- chem oblaka.
Padaya, hlop'ya snega
Valyatsya v gryaz' i na doma,
Ne zamedlyaya bega.
Veter gor'ko stonet ves' den',
Budto kto ego gonit --
Tak prirodu my zastaem
Bez ee korony.
Perevod L. Sitnika
Tell all the Truth but tell it slant --
Success in Circuit lies
Too bright for our infirm Delight
The Truth's superb suprise.
As Lightning to the Children eased
With expanation kind
The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind --
1868
Skazhi vsyu Pravdu, no lish' vskol'z' --
Okol'nyj put' vernej.
Opasen dlya dushi vostorg
Stolknut'sya pryamo s Nej.
Kak molniya ne tak strashna
Pri ob®yasnenii detyam,
Tak privykat' dolzhna dusha,
CHtob ne oslepnut', k svetu.
Perevod L. Sitnika
Remembrance has a Rear and Front --
'Tis something like a House --
It has a Garret also
For Refuse and the Mouse.
Besides the deepest Cellar
That ever Mason laid --
Look to it by its Fathoms
Ourselves be not pursued --
1871
Pamyat' imeet okna i steny
I pod samoj kryshej --
CHerdak, kak u vsyakogo doma,
Dlya begleca i myshi.
No krome etogo -- temnyj podval
Kamenotes slozhil,
CHtoby dlya sobstvennoj glubiny
Mogiloj sluzhil.
Perevod L. Sitnika
Too few the mornings be,
Too scant the nigthts.
No lodging can be had
For the delights
That come to earth to stay,
But no apartment find
And ride away.
1871
Zdes' slishkom kratki dni
I skudny nochi,
CHtoby mogli oni
Sosredotochit'
Vostorgi, chto zdes' zhit' hoteli,
No ne nashli priyuta
I uleteli.
Perevod L. Sitnika
He preached upon 'Breadth' till it argued him narrow --
The Broad are too broad to define
And of 'Truth' until it proclaimed him a Liar --
The Truth never flaunted a Sign --
Simplicity fled from his counterfeit presence
As Gold the Pyrites would shun --
What confusion would cover the innocent Jesus
To meet so enabled a Man!
1872
On uchil "shirote", i v tom byla uzost' --
SHir' ne vmeshchaetsya v umnye rechi;
I "pravde", poka ne sdelalsya lzhivym, --
Pravda ne stala emu perechit'.
Prostota bezhit odnogo ego vida --
Zoloto s olovom v splave ne druzhit.
CHto za konfuzom dlya Iisusa
Bylo by vstretit' stol' mudrogo muzha!
Perevod L. Sitnika
A word is dead
When it is said,
Some say.
I say it just
Begins to live
That day.
1872
Mysl' umiraet,
govoryat,
Lish' proiznesena.
A ya skazhu,
CHto v etot mig
Rozhdaetsya ona.
Perevod L. Sitnika
A Deed knocks first at Thought
And then -- it knocks at Will.
That is the manufacturing spot
And Will at Home and Well.
It then goes out an Act,
Or is entombed so still
That only to the ear of God
Its Doom is audible --
1891
Postupok budit Mysl',
Zatem stuchitsya k Vole,
Poka ona spokojno
ZHivet v teple i hole.
Za nimi vyjdet Delo
Ili umret tak tiho,
CHto tol'ko uho Boga
Uslyshit eto liho.
Perevod L. Sitnika
In this short Life
That only lasts an hour
How much -- how little -- is
Within our power
1873
V korotkoj zhizni sej,
CHto dlitsya chas, ne bole,
Kak mnogo -- i kak malo --
Togo, chto v nashej vole.
Perevod A. Gavrilova
She laid her docile Crescent down
And this confiding Stone
Still states to Dates that have forgot
The News that she is gone --
So constant to its stolid trust,
The Shaft that never knew --
It shames the Constancy that fled
Before its emblem flew --
1877
Kosu svoyu slozhila smert',
Ona nashla na kamen'
Mogil'nyj, chto molchit o toj,
Kotoroj net mezh nami.
Tak postoyanen i upryam
V molchanii granit,
CHto stydno vernosti pred toj,
CHto on v sebe hranit.
Perevod YA. Bergera
I have no Life but this --
To lead it here --
Nor any Death -- but lest
Dispelled from there --
Nor tie to Earth to come --
Nor Action new --
Except through this extent --
The Realm of you --
1877
Mne zhizni net inoj --
Kak zdes' prozhit',
I smerti -- chtoby ej
Ne dorozhit',
I netu na zemle
Inyh mne del --
Lish' Carstva Tvoego
Iskat' predel.
Perevod L. Sitnika
Look back on Time, with kindly eyes --
He doubtless did his best --
How softly sinks that trembling sun
In Human Nature's West --
1879
Vzglyani na vremya blagodarno,
Ono staralos', kak moglo;
Kak nezhno ozaryaet solnce
Vse chelovecheskoe zlo!
Perevod YA. Bergera
Who has not found the Heaven -- below
Will fail of it above --
For Angels rent the House next ours,
Wherever we remove --
1883
Kto ne nashel nebes vnizu,
Tot ne najdet i vyshe,
Snimaet angel nado mnoj
ZHil'e pod samoj kryshej.
Perevod L. Sitnika
He ate and drank the precious Words --
His Spirit grew robust --
He knew no more that he was poor,
Nor that his frame was Dust --
He danced along the dingy Days
And this Bequest of Wings
Was but a Book -- What Liberty
A loosened spirit brings --
1883
On el i pil volshebnyj slog,
I duh pokinul strah.
On pozabyl, chto on bednyak,
A plot' ego lish' prah.
On tanceval vdol' tusklyh dnej,
I dva ego kryla
Byla lish' kniga. Kak legka
Dusha ego byla!
Perevod L. Sitnika
There came a Wind like a Bugle --
It quivered through the Grass
And a Green Chill upon the Heat
So ominous did pass
We barred the Windows and the Doors
As from an Emerald Ghost --
The Doom's electric Moccasin
That very instant passed --
On a strange Mob of panting Trees
And Fences fled away
And Rivers where the Houses ran
Those looked that lived -- that Day --
The Bell within the steeple wild
The flying tidings told --
How much can come
And much can go,
And yet abide the World!
1883
Vdrug v tishinu vorvalsya shkval --
K zemle travu prizhal --
Zelenym holodom pahnul --
I dal'she pobezhal.
Zakryli okna my, chtob on
Vlomit'sya k nam ne smog,
I chuvstvovali -- v etot mig
Prohodit mimo Rok.
Na tolpy trepetavshih lip,
Na solnce i na ten',
Na vse -- kak na nezhdannyj dar --
Smotreli my v tot den'.
Cerkovnyj kolokol veshchal
O tom, chto Rok tait.
No mir privyk
K takim veshcham --
I vse eshche stoit.
Perevod A. Gavrilova
Though the great Waters sleep,
That they are still the Deep,
We cannot doubt --
No vacillating God
Ignited this Abode
To put it out --
1884
Pust' Velikie Vody spyat.
V tom, chto Bezdnu oni hranyat,
Somnevat'sya ne smej --
Ved' vsemogushchij Bog
Vstat', chtoby stalo yasnej,
Mog by s nej.
Perevod L. Sitnika
Lightly stepped a yellow star
To its lofty place --
Loosed the Moon her silver hat
From her lustral Face --
All of Evening softly lit
As an Astral Hall --
Father, I observed to Heaven,
You are punctual.
?
Tiho zheltaya Zvezda
Na nebo vzoshla,
SHlyapu beluyu snyala
Svetlaya Luna,
Vspyhnula u Nochi vmig
Okon chereda --
Otche, i segodnya Ty
Tochen, kak vsegda.
Perevod A. Gavrilova
My life closed twice before its close --
It yet remains to see
If Immortality unveil
A third event to me
So huge, so hopeless to conceive
As these that twice befell.
Parting is all we know of heaven,
And all we need of hell.
?
YA dvazhdy skonchayus', i pered koncom
Glaza, chtob eshche posmotret' im,
Otkroyu na mig: a vdrug menya smert'
Odarit chem-nibud' tret'im,
Pechal'nym, slovno vtoraya zhizn'.
Razluka -- odna nagrada,
CHto my hotim poluchit' ot nebes,
I vse, chto nam nado ot ada.
Perevod L. Sitnika
Proud of my broken heart, since thou didst break it,
Proud of the pain I did not feel till thee,
Proud of my night, since thou with moons dost slake it,
Not to partake thy passion, my humility.
Thou can'st not boast, like Jesus, drunken without companion
Was the strong cup of anguish brewed for the Nazarene
Thou can'st not pierce tradition with the peerless puncture,
See! I usurped thy crucifix to honor mine!
?
Gordis' moim slomannym serdcem, slomavshij ego,
Gordis' moej bol'yu, nevedomoj mne do togo,
Gordis' moej noch'yu, ch'yu t'mu pogasil ty lunoj,
Smiren'em moim pered strast'yu tvoej, no ne mnoj,
Ne polnoyu chashej devich'ih stradanij i slez,
Kotoroj ty mog by hvalit'sya, hmel'noj, kak Hristos,
Raskryv mne manyashchie novym muchen'em ob®yatiya.
Smotri! YA kradu u tebya raspyat'e!
Perevod L. Sitnika
Last-modified: Wed, 05 Apr 2000 16:35:55 GMT