Na mertvom peple, chto ego vskormil; I znaya eto, dorozhish' sil'nej Lyubov'yu uskol'zayushchej svoej. Perevod I. Asterman Vo mne to vremya goda vidish' ty, Kogda s derev spadaet ih ubor, Kogda drozhat zamerzshie listy Tam, gde zvenel nedavno ptichij hor. Vo mne ty vidish' tusklyj sumrak dnya, Kogda zakat na zapade ugas, I son nochnoj, vtoroe smerti "ya", Kladet, kak ten', pechat' svoyu na nas. Vo mne ty vidish' otbleski kostra, CHto polyhal i radoval soboj, No, otgorev, kogda prishla pora, Byl pogreben svoeyu zhe zoloj. I ottogo lyubov' tvoya sil'nej Pri mysli, chto prostish'sya skoro s nej. Perevod A. Vasil'chikova YA dlya tebya - ta pozdnyaya pora, Kogda sletayut list'ya s vyshiny, I tam, na horah, slyshnye vchera, Segodnya pticy bol'she ne slyshny. Vo mne ty vidish' slabyj otsvet dnya, Na zapad uhodyashchij dogorat', Gde na nego, vse kraski horonya, Noch', slovno smert', kladet svoyu pechat'. Vo mne ty vidish' blednyj ogonek, Mercayushchij nad peplom yunyh let. Na etot smertnyj odr on tiho leg, Pogublen tem, chem porozhden na svet. No vizhu ya, ty lyubish' tem sil'nej, CHem men'she u lyubvi poslednih dnej. Perevod Ign. Ivanovskogo Vo mne ty poru goda vidish' tu, Kogda poslednij zheltyj list ponik I holod svodit such'ev chernotu Na horah, gde ne slyshen ptichij krik. Vo mne ty vidish' chas, kogda nevmoch' V zakate den' pomerkshij raspoznat', I smerti ten' - s nebes spolzaet noch' I stavit pogrebal'nuyu pechat'. Vo mne ty vidish' tot poslednij pyl, Kogda ogon' sverknet iz pepla vdrug, No to, chto prezhde on szhigat' lyubil, Teper' samo szhimaet smertnyj krug. Ty vidish' vse. Lyubov' obrechena. No tem sil'nej stanovitsya ona. Perevod B. Kushnera Vo mne tu poru tvoj nahodit vzglyad, Kogda pochti vse list'ya obleteli I vetvi lish' na holode drozhat, Pustye hory tam, gde pticy peli. Vo mne ty vidish' zavershen'e dnya, Kogda zakat uzh nachal dogorat' I, postepenno proch' ego gonya, Noch', budto Smert', kladet na vse pechat'. Vo mne ty vidish' blesk ognya togo, CHto tleet v peple yunosti svoej, I lozhe pogrebal'noe ego Ostatki pogloshchaet prezhnih dnej. I dlya tebya togda eshche dorozhe Vse to, chto poteryat' ty skoro mozhesh'. Perevod V. Nikolaeva Ty zastaesh' vo mne takuyu poru, Kogda drozhat poslednie listy Na teh vetvyah, chto byli domom horu Ptic sladkoglasyh, a teper' pusty. Ty vidish' den', chto, na zakate taya, Temneet bystro, - noch' ego kradet I, budto Smert', sestra ee rodnaya, Na vse pechat' nedvizhnosti kladet. Svet plameni ty vidish', gde ostalsya Ogon' na peple yunosti byloj. No, pogloshchennyj tem zhe, chem pitalsya, Na lozhe smerti stanet on zoloj. Ty vidish' vse. No lish' sil'nej vo vzore Lyubov' k tomu, s chem rasstavat'sya vskore! Perevod A. SHarakshane 74 But be contented when that fell arrest Without all bail shall carry me away, My life hath in this line some interest, Which for memorial still with thee shall stay. When thou reviewest this, thou dost review The very part was consecrate to thee: The earth can have but earth, which is his due; My spirit is thine, the better part of me. So then thou hast but lost the dregs of life, The prey of worms, my body being dead, The coward conquest of a wretch's knife, Too base of thee to be remembered: The worth of that is that which it contains, And that is this, and this with thee remains. No ne goryuj, kogda etot zhestokij arest bez prava osvobozhdeniya zaberet menya otsyuda; moya zhizn' _prodolzhaetsya_ [imeet dolyu] v etih strochkah, kotorye dlya pamyati navsegda ostanutsya s toboj. CHitaya snova eto _stihotvorenie_, ty budesh' videt' tu samuyu chast' _menya_, kotoraya byla posvyashchena tebe; zemlya mozhet poluchit' tol'ko zemlyu {*}, kotoraya ej prichitaetsya, a moj duh - luchshaya chast' menya - prinadlezhit tebe. Tak chto ty poteryaesh' ne bolee chem otbrosy zhizni, dobychu chervej, - umret moe telo, beschestnaya dobycha nozha negodyaya {**}, slishkom nizmennoe, chtoby ego pomnili. Ego cennost' v tom, chto ono soderzhit v sebe, to est' eto _moe tvorchestvo_, a eto ostanetsya s toboj. {* Sm. primechanie k sonetu 44. ** Spornoe mesto. Soglasno odnomu iz tolkovanij, pod "nozhom negodyaya" zdes' nuzhno ponimat' kosu Smerti.} No ne terzajsya, i kogda za mnoj Pridut, chtob vzyat' bez lishnej kaniteli, Pust' eti stroki sohranyat zhivoj Tu pamyat', chto u nas otnyat' hoteli. I esli vmeste byt' nam ne dano, Moj vysshij duh otyshchesh' za strokoyu - Zemlya voz'met, chto ej obrecheno. Moya dusha ostanetsya s toboyu. I potomu lish' musor bytiya, CHervej dobychu, zhalkij plod razboya, Utratish' ty, kogda pogibnu ya, - Prostuyu plot', chto pamyati ne stoit. Puskaj v zemle istleet nizkij prah, - Moya dusha s toboj - v moih stihah. Perevod B. Kushnera No bud' dovolen. Pust' mne pod arest Ujti bez poruchitel'stva pridetsya, Sud'ba moya probudit interes Tem slovom, chto na pamyat' ostaetsya. Najdesh', kosnuvshis' vzglyadom etih strok, Vse, chto tebe hochu ya posvyatit'. Zemlya poluchit prah - zakonnyj dolg. No lish' tvoim moj duh obyazan byt'. Ty poteryaesh' tol'ko zhizni shlak I trup, chto stal dobycheyu chervej, Kuda kinzhal vonzil truslivyj vrag, - Ne stoit eto pamyati tvoej. I tol'ko stih ee dostoin moj, CHto navsegda ostanetsya s toboj. Perevod V. Nikolaeva 75 So are you to my thoughts as food to life, Or as sweet seasoned showers are to the ground; And for the peace of you I hold such strife As 'twixt a miser and has wealth is found: Now proud as an enjoyer, and anon Doubting the filching age will steal his treasure; Now counting best to be with you alone, Then bettered that the world may see my pleasure: Sometime all full with feasting on your sight, And by and by clean starved for a look; Possessing or pursuing no delight Save what is had or must from you be took. Thus do I pine and surfeit day by day, Or gluttoning on all, or all away. Dlya moih myslej ty - kak pishcha dlya zhizni ili kak svezhie blagouhannye livni - dlya zemli, i radi tvoego spokojstviya {*} ya vedu takuyu bor'bu, kakaya byvaet mezhdu skupcom i ego bogatstvom: to on gord, naslazhdayas' _im_, a to opasaetsya, chto vorovatyj vek ukradet ego sokrovishche; to ya schitayu, chto luchshe vsego byt' s toboj naedine, to _polagayu, chto_ eshche luchshe, chtoby mir videl moyu radost'; poroj presyshchen pirshestvom - sozercaniem tebya, no skoro _snova_ sovsem izgolodayus' po vzglyadu _na tebya_, ne imeya i ne ishcha drugih udovol'stvij, krome togo, chto ya poluchil ili dolzhen poluchit' ot tebya. Tak ya chahnu i predayus' izlishestvam izo dnya v den' - ili obzhirayus' vsem, ili lishen vsego. {* Neyasnoe mesto; "for the peace of you" mozhno istolkovat' tak zhe kak "radi (moego) udovletvoreniya, kotoroe mne dostavlyaet tvoya druzhba".} Ty dlya dushi, kak pishcha, chtoby zhit', Kak svezhij liven' - dlya zemli vesnoj. Boryus' ya, chtob pokoj tvoj sohranit', Kak so svoim sokrovishchem - skupoj. Gorzhus' ya obladan'em, no potom Boyus', chto vek ukrast' sposoben klad; To ya hochu s toboyu byt' vdvoem, To miru ya tebya predstavit' rad. Poroj ya syt ot vida tvoego, No vskore vzor moj goloden opyat'. Ne dast mne obladan'e nichego Poverh togo, chto ty mne mozhesh' dat': Tak den' za dnem piruyu, golodaya, To pogloshchaya vse, to Izvergaya. Perevod V. Nikolaeva Ty dlya menya kak hleb dlya bednyaka, Kak zhivotvornyj liven' dlya pustyni, A ya kak tot skupec u sunduka - Net dragocennej dlya nego svyatyni, Kogda on vorozhit nad sundukom: To zolotom v otkrytuyu gorditsya, To kladom naslazhdaetsya tajkom, To spryachet - pohititelya boitsya. Tak ya - to ob®edayus' za troih, To golodayu, zhdu podachki-vzglyada; YA schast'e poluchil iz ruk tvoih, I nichego inogo mne ne nado: Ty ryadom - ya v tri gorla em i em, A ty vdali - lishen edy sovsem. Perevod I. Fradkina 76 Why is my verse so barren of new pride? So far from variation or quick change? Why with the time do I not glance aside To new-found methods and to compounds strange? Why write I still all one, ever the same, And keep invention in a noted weed, That every word doth almost tell my name, Showing their birth, and where they did proceed? O know, sweet love, I always write of you, And you and love are still my argument; So all my best is dressing old words new, Spending again what is already spent: For as the sun is daily new and old, So is my love still telling what is told. Pochemu moi stihi nastol'ko lisheny novomodnogo velikolepiya - Tak daleki ot raznoobraziya i bystryh peremen? Pochemu ya ne obrashchayus', vmeste s vremenem, k novoobretennym metodam i strannym sochetaniyam? {*} Pochemu ya pishu postoyanno odno i to zhe, vsegda odinakovo, i odevayu voobrazhenie v tu zhe znakomuyu odezhdu, tak chto kazhdoe slovo pochti nazyvaet moe imya, obnaruzhivaya svoe rozhdenie i proishozhdenie? O, znaj, lyubov' moya, ya vsegda pishu o tebe, i ty i lyubov' - moya postoyannaya tema, tak chto luchshee, chto ya mogu, - eto naryadit' starye slova po-novomu, tratya opyat' to, chto uzhe potracheno. Ved' solnce kazhdyj den' i novo i staro, tak i moya lyubov' postoyanno govorit to, chto uzhe skazano. {* Vozmozhno, rech' idet o novyh stilisticheskih priemah ili o slovotvorchestve, shiroko rasprostranennom v epohu SHekspira.} Ty govorish', tebe ne nov moj stih, CHto u menya povtorov slishkom mnogo. Nu chto by mne ne brat' v primer drugih S ih strannym smyslom i svobodoj sloga, A ne tverdit' odno den' oto dnya, Vse obrazy svoi toboj pitaya. Uzh po uporstvu, verno, na menya Tam kazhdaya pohozha zapyataya. Ne sporyu, no kogda v dushe odna Lyubov' k tebe poet, ne utihaya, Moya edinstvennaya novizna - Venchat' ee vse novymi stihami. Kak solnce vechno l'et vse tot zhe svet, Tak u lyubvi - vsegda odin syuzhet. Perevod O. Dudoladovoj Zachem moj stih tak skup na noviznu I tak dalek ot peremen vnezapnyh? Zachem ya vmeste s vekom ne vzglyanu Na novyj sposob sochetanij strannyh? Zachem vsegda pishu odno i to zhe, Ne priodev svoe voobrazhen'e? Menya nazvat' lyuboe slovo mozhet I ob®yavit' svoe proishozhden'e. Znaj, milyj drug, ya o tebe pishu, I u menya odin syuzhet - lyubov'. Obnovki prezhnim strochkam nahozhu I to, chto ya istratil, trachu vnov'. Kak solnce nado mnoj staro i novo, Tak ya opyat' tverzhu vse to zhe slovo. Perevod V. Nikolaeva 77 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, 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 the 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, delivered 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. Tvoe zerkalo pokazhet tebe, kak iznashivayutsya tvoi prelesti, chasy - kak istekayut dragocennye minuty, _a_ chistye listy budut hranit' otpechatok tvoej dushi, i iz etoj knigi {*} ty mozhesh' vkusit' takoe znanie: morshchiny, kotorye tvoe zerkalo tebe pravdivo pokazhet, napomnyat tebe o raskrytom zeve mogily; po tomu, kak ukradkoj dvizhetsya ten' v chasah {**}, ty mozhesh' postich' vorovatoe dvizhenie vremeni k vechnosti; a vse, chto tvoya pamyat' ne mozhet uderzhat', dover' etim pustym stranicam, i _potom_ ty obnaruzhish' vzrashchennymi etih detej, rozhdennyh tvoim umom, chtoby s nimi snova poznakomilas' tvoya dusha. |ti uslugi _zerkala_ i _chasov_ - v toj mere, naskol'ko chasto ty budesh' smotret', - prinesut tebe pol'zu i sil'no obogatyat tvoyu knigu. {* Zdes' "kniga" (book), veroyatno, oznachaet kakogo-to roda knigu dlya zapisej. Po mneniyu nekotoryh kommentatorov, poet podaril Drugu takuyu knigu, i dannyj sonet soprovozhdal podarok. Sm. sonet 122, gde rech' idet o podobnom podarke Druga poetu. ** Veroyatno, rech' idet o solnechnyh chasah.} Svoj vozrast v zerkale uvidish' ty, V chasah - minuty, chto nel'zya vernut'. Lozhitsya zhizn' na chistye listy - Iz etoj kniga ty postignesh' sut'. Napomnit besposhchadnoe steklo Morshchinami, chto past' mogily zhdet; A vremya-vor mgnoven'em proteklo V teni chasov i k vechnosti vedet. Dover' zavetnym pis'menam skorej Vse to, chto pamyati ne uderzhat', - Kogda-nibud' plody svoih idej Pozhnesh' i smozhesh' ty sebya poznat'. I ty, chitaya mudrost' etih strok, Ves'ma bogatyj izvlechesh' urok. Perevod A. Vasil'chikova CHasy pokazhut bystrotu minuty, A zerkalo - utratu krasoty: Pust' myslej sokrovennye marshruty Zapolnyat eti chistye listy. Lenivo v vechnost' ten'yu vorovskoyu Kradetsya strelka - v zerkalo smotret' Bez grusti nevozmozhno, i s toskoyu Glyadim na podstupayushchuyu Smert'. Pust' mysli - vskormlennye mozgom deti - Najdut v zavetnom dnevnike priyut: V nem "ya" tvoe rodnye chada eti Nadolgo dlya tebya zhe sberegut. Kogda v dnevnik poroj ty brosish' vzglyad, Pered toboj sverknet bescennyj klad. Perevod I. Fradkina 78 So oft have I invoked thee for my Muse, And found such fair assistance in my verse, As every alien pen hath got my use, And under thee their poesy disperse. Thine eyes, that taught the dumb on high to sing, And heavy ignorance aloft to fly, Have added feathers to the learned's wing And given grace a double majesty. Yet be most proud of that which I compile, Whose influence is thine, and born of thee: In others' works thou dost but mend the style, And arts with thy sweet graces graced be; But thou art all my art, and dost advance As high as learning my rude ignorance. YA tak chasto prizyval tebya kak svoyu Muzu i nahodil _v tebe_ takuyu dobruyu pomoshch' dlya svoih stihov, chto kazhdoe chuzhoe pero prisvoilo moj obychaj i, prikryvayas' toboj, rasprostranyaet svoyu poeziyu. Tvoi glaza, kotorye nauchili nemogo pet' vo ves' golos, a tyazhkoe nevezhestvo - letat' v vyshine, _teper'_ dobavili per'ev k kryl'yam uchenyh i pridali izyashchestvu dvojnoe velikolepie. I vse zhe gordis' bolee vsego tem, chto slagayu ya, u kotorogo vse vliyanie - tvoe i rozhdeno ot tebya {*}; v proizvedeniyah drugih ty vsego lish' uluchshaesh' stil', i iskusstva _lish'_ ukrashayutsya tvoej dragocennoj krasoj. No _dlya menya_ ty - vse moe iskusstvo i vozvyshaesh' do uchenosti moe gruboe nevezhestvo. {* Soglasno rashozhim predstavleniyam togo vremeni, zhizn' kazhdogo cheloveka prohodila pod postoyannym vliyaniem teh ili inyh zvezd. Poet zayavlyaet, chto u nego vse vliyanie - ot Druga, tem samym kosvenno ocherednoj raz upodoblyaya ego zvezde.} K tebe kak k Muze stol'ko ya vzyval I pomoshch' poluchal tvoyu pri etom, CHto, kak i mne, vzyvat' k tebe nastal CHered drugim zavistlivym poetam. Nemomu mne tvoj vzor usta raskryl, Nevezhestvo ucha letat' po-ptich'i, A im, uchenym, ne daval on kryl, No ih poletu lish' pridal velich'ya. I vse zhe ty stihom gordis' moim - On duh ot duha tvoj i plot' ot ploti, Ved' tol'ko slog podpravil ty drugim I pridal sovershenstvo ih rabote. Ty - vse moe iskusstvo, neuch ya, I vsya nauka u menya - tvoya! Perevod S. Stepanova Ty Muzoj, vdohnoven'em byl moim, Volshebnoj siloj napolnyaya stroki, I kazhdyj, kto poeziej tomim, Provorno perenyal moi uroki. Tebya uzrev, nemoj zagovoril, Lishennyj kryl'ev poletel, kak ptica, A kto letal, tot vyshe vosparil, Stal graciej stiha vdvojne gordit'sya; No ty, proshu, gordis' moim stihom: Ty darish' tol'ko blesk chuzhim tvoren'yam, V moih zhe - sam zhivesh' ves' celikom: Tebe obyazan stih svoim rozhden'em. V stih vzyav tebya - poeziyu, moshch', svet - Nevezhda v proshlom, nyne ya - poet. Perevod I. Fradkina 79 Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid, My verse alone had all thy gentle grace, But now my gracious numbers are decayed, And my sick Muse doth give another place. I grant (sweet love) thy lovely argument Deserves the travail of a worthier pen, Yet what of thee thy poet doth invent He robs thee of, and pays it thee again: He lends thee virtue, and he stole that word From thy behaviour; beauty doth he give, And found it in thy cheek; he can afford No praise to thee but what in thee doth live. Then thank him not for that which he doth say, Since what he owes thee, thou thyself dost pay. Poka ya odin vzyval k tvoej pomoshchi, moi stihi odni voploshchali vse tvoe izyashchestvo {*}, no teper' moi izyashchnye stihi v upadke, i moya bol'naya Muza ustupaet mesto drugomu. YA priznayu, lyubov' moya, chto tvoya milaya tema zasluzhivaet truda bolee dostojnogo pera, i vse zhe chto by o tebe ni sochinil poet, on vse voruet u tebya, a potom vozmeshchaet tebe zhe: on nadelyaet tebya dobrodetel'yu, no _samo_ eto slovo on ukral u tvoego povedeniya; on pridaet _tebe_ krasotu, no _on lish'_ nashel ee v tvoem _lice_ [shcheke]; on ne mozhet vozdat' tebe nikakoj hvaly, krome _povtoreniya_ togo, chto _uzhe_ v tebe zhivet. Poetomu ne blagodari ego za to, chto on govorit, poskol'ku to, chto on dolzhen _vozdat'_ tebe, ty platish' sam. {* Drugoe vozmozhnoe prochtenie: "...odni pol'zovalis' tvoej blagosklonnost'yu".} Pokuda ya vzyval k tebe odin, V moj stih vlivalos' vse tvoe iskusstvo: Teper' zhe ty stal mnogim gospodin, I moj neduzhnyj stih teryaet chuvstvo. Dostoin ty, ob etom sporu net, I luchshego pera, i vdohnoven'ya, No vse, chto v dar tebe neset poet, Im vzyato u tebya s soizvolen'ya. Ty osoznaj darov ego tshchetu: Tebe tvoyu neset on dobrodetel', Tvoyu zhe prepodnosit krasotu, Kotorym on v tebe prostoj svidetel'. Ty platish' sam za vse, i ottogo Blagodarit' ne dolzhen nikogo. Perevod S. Stepanova Poka tebya odin ya vospeval, Vse gracii tvoi vmeshchal moj stih; Teper' zhe on bespomoshchen i vyal, A Muza predpochla, uvy, drugih. O, nesomnenno, chudnyj tvoj portret Dostoin luchshego, chem ya, tvorca; No chto by ni daril tebe poet, Iz tvoego ukradeno larca. Tebya on grabit, a ne sam tvorit: Vot slavit dobrodetel' - tak ona V delah tvoih; vot u tvoih lanit Krasu kradet, - vse est' v tebe spolna. I ne blagodari ego! - soboj Za pohvalu ty platish' - i s lihvoj. Perevod S. SHestakova 80 O how I faint when I of you do write, Knowing a better spirit doth use your name, And in the praise thereof spends all his might, To make me tongue-tied Speaking of your fame. But since your worth (wide as the ocean is) The humble as the proudest sail doth bear, My saucy bark (inferior far to his) On your broad main doth wilfully appear. Your shallowest help will hold me up afloat, Whilst he upon your soundless deep doth ride, Or (being wracked) I am a worthless boat, He of tall building and of goodly pride. Then if he thrive and I be cast away, The worst was this: my love was my decay. O, kak menya lishaet sil, kogda ya pishu o tebe, znanie, chto prevoshodyashchij menya duh ispol'zuet tvoe imya i na hvalu tebe rashoduet vsyu svoyu silu, tak chto skovyvaet moj yazyk, kogda ya govoryu o tvoej slave. No poskol'ku tvoi dostoinstva, obshirnye, kak okean, nesut na sebe _ravno_ skromnyj i samyj gordyj parus, moya derzkaya lad'ya, mnogo ustupayushchaya ego _korablyu_, svoevol'no poyavlyaetsya na tvoej morskoj shiri. Tvoya samaya melkaya pomoshch' uderzhit menya na plavu, togda kak on poplyvet po tvoej bezdonnoj glubine, ili, poterpev krushenie, ya stanu nikchemnoj lodkoj, _a_ on _ostanetsya korablem_ velichestvennoj i prekrasnoj postrojki. Togda, esli on budet preuspevat', a ya budu vybroshen na bereg, to hudshee budet v tom, chto moya lyubov' stala moim krahom. Kak mne vospet' tebya! Moj um nishchaet Pri mysli, skol' mogushchestvennyj duh Tebe hvaly v poemah rastochaet, YAzyk bessilen slovo molvit' vsluh. No ty - kak okean, na ch'em prostore Svoj ishchet put' i legkaya lad'ya, I brig, no vot v otchayannom zadore Pokoj tvoj vskolyhnut' puskayus' ya. Mne dazhe mel' i rify tvoi v radost'. On zhe stremit k nevedomym glubinam! I ya bez pomoshchi tvoej ne spravlyus' Ni s valom, chto on gonit, ni s puchinoj. Pust' v buryu ne spasu ya i vesla, Ne on - lyubov' mne gibel' prinesla. Perevod O. Dudoladovoj O, kak ya slab, kogda tebya poyu I znayu: luchshij duh tebya poet, CHto, v pohvalu vsyu moshch' vlozhiv svoyu, Mne slavoslov'em zazhimaet rot. No esli mezh tvoih beskrajnih voln Lyuboe sudno mozhet uderzhat'sya, To dazhe ryadom s nim moj derzkij cheln Na teh prostorah volen pokazat'sya. YA uderzhus' - pri pomoshchi tvoej, Poka on reet nad puchinoj vodnoj. Il' budu mezh razbityh korablej, Poka plyvet on gordo i svobodno. I esli on v chesti i broshen ya, To krahom stala mne lyubov' moya. Perevod V. Nikolaeva 81 Or shall I live your epitaph to make, Or you survive when I in earth am rotten, From hence your memory death cannot take, Although in me each part will be forgotten. Your name from hence immortal life shall have, Though I (once gone) to all the world must die; The earth can yield me but a common grave, When you intombed in men's eyes shall lie: Your monument shall be my gentle verse, Which eyes not yet created shall o'er-read, And tongues to be your being shall rehearse, When all the breathers of this world are dead; You still shall live (such virtue hath my pen) Where breath most breathes, even in the mouths of men. YA li dozhivu do togo, chtoby sostavit' tebe epitafiyu, ili ty eshche budesh' zhiv, kogda ya sgniyu v zemle, otsyuda {*} tvoyu pamyat' smert' ne smozhet zabrat', hotya ya budu vsecelo zabyt. Tvoe imya otsyuda poluchit bessmertnuyu zhizn', hotya ya, skonchavshis', dolzhen budu dlya vsego mira umeret'. Zemlya mozhet predostavit' mne tol'ko prostuyu mogilu, togda kak ty prebudesh' v grobnice lyudskih glaz; pamyatnikom tebe stanut moi nezhnye stihi, kotorye budut perechityvat' glaza _lyudej_, eshche ne rozhdennyh na svet, i budushchie yazyki budut zanovo rasskazyvat' o tvoem _zhivom_ sushchestve, kogda vse, kto _sejchas_ dyshit v etom mire, _uzhe_ umrut. Ty vsegda budesh' zhit' - takoe svojstvo imeet moe pero - tam, gde dyhan'e _zhizni_ bolee vsego dyshit _zhizn'yu_, - v ustah lyudej. {* Zdes' "hence" (otsyuda) mozhet oznachat' libo "iz etogo mira", libo "iz etih stihov".} Il' mne tebe nadgrobnyj stih slagat', Il' ty menya provodish' do mogily, Tebya otsyuda smert' ne v silah vzyat', Hot' vzyat' menya u nej dostanet sily. Zdes' imya sohranish' ty na veka. Bez imeni ya kanu v tenyah nochi, V prostoj mogile pishchej chervyaka, Tebya zh uzret' zhivye smogut ochi. Tvoj pamyatnik - moj stih, ego uzryat I prochitayut ochi let gryadushchih, I yazykom gryadushchim povtoryat, Kogda umolknut yazyki zhivushchih. Ty budesh' vechno zhit' v moih stihah ZHivym dyhan'em duha na ustah. Perevod S. Stepanova Mne l' plakat' nad mogiloyu tvoej, Il' ran'she ya otpravlyus' v mir inoj, - No ty prebudesh' v pamyati lyudej, I navsegda zabudut obraz moj. Togda kak ty bessmert'e zasluzhil, YA bezymyannym dolzhen umeret'; Moj holmik ne zametyat sred' mogil, Tvoe zh nadgrob'e kazhdyj smozhet zret'. Tvoj pamyatnik - moj stih; ego prochtut Glaza potomkov nashih, i, pover', Ne kanet v vechnost' sej dostojnyj trud, Kogda umolknut vse, kto zhiv teper'. Ty budesh' zhit', proslavlennyj v stihah, Tam, gde dyhan'e duha, - na ustah! Perevod S. SHestakova 82 I grant thou wert not married to my Muse, And therefore mayst without attaint o'erlook The dedicated words which writers use Of their fair subjects, blessing every book. Thou art as fair in knowledge as in hue, Finding thy worth a limit past my praise, And therefore art inforced to seek anew Some fresher stamp of the time-bettering days. And do so, love; yet when they have devised What strained touches rhetoric can lend, Thou, truly fair, wert truly sympathised In true plain words by the true-telling friend; And their gross painting might be better used Where cheeks need blood; in thee it is abused. YA priznayu, chto ty ne svyazan brakom s moej Muzoj i, znachit, mozhesh' bez pozora _dlya sebya_ prochityvat' slova posvyashchenij, kotorye pishushchie upotreblyayut, govorya o svoih prekrasnyh predmetah, chtoby blagoslovit' kazhduyu knigu. Ty tak zhe sovershenen umom, kak i vneshnost'yu {*}, i, nahodya, chto tvoi dostoinstva prevoshodyat moyu hvalu, ty vynuzhden poetomu iskat' snova kakuyu-to bolee svezhuyu _hvalu, nesushchuyu_ pechat' etogo usovershenstvovannogo vremeni. Tak i delaj, lyubov' moya; no vse zhe, poka oni pridumyvali, kakie neestestvennye priemy mozhet dat' ritorika, ty, istinno prekrasnyj, byl istinno otobrazhen v prostyh istinnyh slovah _svoego_ istinnogo druga; a ih gruboe hudozhestvo luchshe by primenyat' tam, gde shchekam nedostaet krovi; dlya tebya ona neumestna. {* Sm. primechanie 1 k perevodu soneta 20.} Ty s Muzoyu moeyu, k sozhalen'yu, Ne obruchen. Kogda tebe nesut So vseh storon Poety posvyashchen'ya, Ty vyshe moego ih stavish' trud - Poyu krasu, - ty nedovolen mnoyu, A tem, kto hvalit um, otkaza net, I ty speshish' upit'sya pohvaloyu, Uvidet' eshche yarche svoj portret. Schitaj nagradoyu - hulit' ne smeyu! - Ritoriku lyubezno-pyshnyh strok, No ya vsegda byl Pravdoyu tvoeyu I iskrenne hvalil v tebe, chto mog. Ne greet krov' - togda kladut rumyana, A u tebya - net etogo iz®yana. Perevod I. Fradkina Moej ty Muze klyatvu ne daval, I potomu ne budet pregreshen'ya, Kogda, chitaya chej-to madrigal, Ot stihotvorca primesh' voshvalen'ya. Prekrasen ty i likom i umom, Tvoj shchedryj dar pohval moih prevyshe; I potomu ty mnish': drugim perom, Byt' mozhet, i vernej tebya opishut. CHto zh, tesh' sebya nadezhdoj! Vse ravno, Poslushav ih ritoriki pustye, Pojmesh': lish' mne dejstvitel'no dano Krase tvoej najti slova prostye. Rumyana pryachut blednyj cvet lanit, Tebe zhe kraska tol'ko povredit. Perevod S. SHestakova 83 I never saw that you did painting need, And therefore to your fair no painting set; I found (or thought I found) you did exceed The barren tender of a poet's debt: And therefore have I slept in your report, That you yourself, being extant, well might show How far a modern quill doth come too short, Speaking of worth, what worth in you doth grow. This silence for my sin you did impute, Which shall be most my glory, being dumb, For I impair not beauty, being mute, When others would give life, and bring a tomb. There lives more life in one of your fair eyes Than both your poets can in praise devise. YA nikogda ne videl, chtoby ty nuzhdalsya v priukrashivanii, i poetomu k tvoej krasote nikakogo priukrashivaniya ne primenyal; ya obnaruzhival - ili dumal, CHto obnaruzhival, - chto ty vyshe togo pustogo _slavosloviya_, kotoroe poety predlagayut v uplatu svoego dolga. YA potomu _nichego ne delal_ [spal] dlya tvoego proslavleniya, chto ty sam, zhivoj, byl svidetel'stvom tomu, naskol'ko sovremennoe pero ne spravlyaetsya, govorya o dostoinstvah, s _opisaniem_ dostoinstv, kotorye procvetayut v tebe. |to molchanie ty mne vmenil v greh, togda kak ostavat'sya besslovesnym - moya samaya bol'shaya zasluga, ved', buduchi nemym, ya ne nanoshu vreda krasote, kogda drugie zhelali by dat' ej zhizn', a prinosyat mogilu. V kazhdom iz tvoih prekrasnyh glaz bol'she zhizni, chem oba tvoih poeta mogut izobresti dlya hvaly. Ne nadobno prikras dlya krasoty - Rumyan i pudry vsyakoj lesti vzdornoj; V sravnen'i s tem, chego dostoin ty, Nichtozhna lepta slavy stihotvornoj. YA i vo sne tyagat'sya ne mechtal S pevcami - masterami licemer'ya: YA znayu, chto vysok predmet pohval I slishkom kucy nyneshnie per'ya. Ty schel moe molchanie vinoj? - O net, v zaslugu mne dolzhno vmenit'sya, CHto ya zamknul usta, poka inoj Sulit bessmert'e, a tvorit grobnicu. Odin tvoj vzglyad zhivee, milyj drug, Vseh nashih poeticheskih potug! Perevod G. Kruzhkova Ne znaesh' ty rumyan, krasy podlozhnoj, I ya, tebya risuya, ih ne bral; Moi stihi - patronu dar nichtozhnyj: Tak syuzerenu dar neset vassal. Ty - krasoty zhivoe voploshchen'e, Nel'zya ee zapechatlet' v stihah, I ya pero ronyayu v voshishchen'e: Bespomoshchno ono v moih rukah! Schitaesh' ty grehom usta nemye, A ya blagoslovlyayu nemotu I nichego ne porchu - pust' drugie Koryavym slovom gubyat krasotu. Tvoj kazhdyj glaz daruet bol'she sveta, CHem daryat miru dva tvoih poeta. Perevod I. Fradkina 84 Who is it that says most which can say more Than this rich praise - that you alone are you, In whose confine immured is the store Which should example where your equal grew? Lean penury within that pen doth dwell That to his subject lends not some small glory, But he that writes of you, if he can tell That you are you, so dignifies his story: Let him but copy what in you is writ, Not making worse what nature made so clear, And such a counterpart shall fame his wit, Making his style admired every where. You to your beauteous blessings add a curse, Being fond of praise, which makes your praises worse. Kto skazhet luchshe vsego - kto mozhet skazat' bol'she {*}, chem eta dragocennaya hvala: chto ty odin - _takoj, kak_ ty, zaklyuchayushchij v sebe zapas _krasoty i