English Poetry. Elizabeth Bishop. Manuelzinho. Элизабет Бишоп.

Elizabeth Bishop (Элизабет Бишоп) Manuelzinho Half squatter, half tenant (no rent)— a sort of inheritance; white, in your thirties now, and supposed to supply me with vegetables, but you don’t; or you won’t; or you can’t get the idea through your brain— the world’s worst gardener since […]

English Poetry. Robert Louis Stevenson. A Child’s Garden of Verses. The Child Alone. 3. My Kingdom. Роберт Льюис Стивенсон. Детский сад стихов. Ребёнок, играющий один. 3. Моё королевство

Robert Louis Stevenson (Роберт Льюис Стивенсон) A Child’s Garden of Verses. The Child Alone. 3. My Kingdom Down by a shining water well I found a very little dell, No higher than my head. The heather and the gorse about In summer bloom were coming out, Some […]

English Poetry. Elizabeth Bishop. A Prodigal. Элизабет Бишоп.

Elizabeth Bishop (Элизабет Бишоп) A Prodigal The brown enormous odor he lived by was too close, with its breathing and thick hair, for him to judge. The floor was rotten; the sty was plastered halfway up with glass-smooth dung. Light-lashed, self-righteous, above moving snouts, the pigs’ eyes […]

English Poetry. Elizabeth Bishop. Poem. Элизабет Бишоп.

Elizabeth Bishop (Элизабет Бишоп) Poem About the size of an old-style dollar bill, American or Canadian, mostly the same whites, gray greens, and steel grays –this little painting (a sketch for a larger one?) has never earned any money in its life. Useless and free, it has […]

English Poetry. Elizabeth Bishop. O Breath. Элизабет Бишоп.

Elizabeth Bishop (Элизабет Бишоп) O Breath Beneath that loved and celebrated breast, silent, bored really blindly veined, grieves, maybe lives and lets live, passes bets, something moving but invisibly, and with what clamor why restrained I cannot fathom even a ripple. (See the thin flying of nine […]

English Poetry. Elizabeth Bishop. Anaphora. Элизабет Бишоп.

Elizabeth Bishop (Элизабет Бишоп) Anaphora In memory of Marjorie Carr Stevens Each day with so much ceremony begins, with birds, with bells, with whistles from a factory; such white-gold skies our eyes first open on, such brilliant walls that for a moment we wonder ”Where […]

English Poetry. Elizabeth Bishop. Filling Station. Элизабет Бишоп.

Elizabeth Bishop (Элизабет Бишоп) Filling Station Oh, but it is dirty! –this little filling station, oil-soaked, oil-permeated to a disturbing, over-all black translucency. Be careful with that match! Father wears a dirty, oil-soaked monkey suit that cuts him under the arms, and several quick and […]

English Poetry. Elizabeth Bishop. Sestina. Элизабет Бишоп.

Elizabeth Bishop (Элизабет Бишоп) Sestina September rain falls on the house. In the failing light, the old grandmother sits in the kitchen with the child beside the Little Marvel Stove, reading the jokes from the almanac, laughing and talking to hide her tears. She thinks that […]