English Poetry. George Granville, Lord Lansdowne . Written in a Lady’s Prayer-Book. Джордж Гранвилл, лорд Ланздаун. Строки, записанные в молитвенник одной леди

George Granville, Lord Lansdowne (Джордж Гранвилл, лорд Ланздаун) Written in a Lady’s Prayer-Book In vain Clarinda night and day For mercy to the Gods you pray. What arrogance on Heaven to call For that which you deny to all! Перевод на русский язык Строки, записанные в молитвенник одной […]

English Poetry. Alfred Austin. Sisyphus. Альфред Остин.

Alfred Austin (Альфред Остин) Sisyphus Midway his upward unavailing course Sate Sisyphus, his back against his load, Halting a moment from that task of doom. Adown his swollen cheeks ran streams of sweat Dripping from thick-drenched locks; and watery beads Gathered and stood on his stupendous limbs. The […]

English Poetry. John Frederick William Herschel. On Burning a Parcel of Old MSS. Джон Фредерик Уильям Гершель. Сонет на сожжение моей старой рукописи

John Frederick William Herschel (Джон Фредерик Уильям Гершель) On Burning a Parcel of Old MSS Wrecks of forgotten thought, or disapproved, Farewell! and as your smouldering flames ascend, Read me a parting lesson. As the friend Familiar once, but since less fondly loved, (Dire spite of earthly […]

English Poetry. David Garrick. On a Certain Lord’s Giving Some Thousand Pounds for a House. Дэвид Гаррик. На некоего лорда, заплатившего несколько тысяч фунтов стерлингов за новые апартаменты

David Garrick (Дэвид Гаррик) On a Certain Lord’s Giving Some Thousand Pounds for a House So many thousands for a house For you, of all the world, Lord Mouse! A little house would best accord With you, my very little lord! And then exactly match’d would be Your […]

English Poetry. Christina Georgina Rossetti. When Fishes Set Umbrellas up. Кристина Джорджина Россетти. Рыбки вдруг раскрыли зонт

Christina Georgina Rossetti (Кристина Джорджина Россетти) * * * When fishes set umbrellas up If the rain-drops run, Lizards will want their parasols To shade them from the sun. Перевод на русский язык * * * Рыбки вдруг раскрыли зонт – Значит в тучах горизонт. Вышел ящер из […]

English Poetry. Hilaire Belloc. On His Books. Хилар Беллок. Когда умру, когда навек уйду…

Hilaire Belloc (Хилар Беллок) On His Books When I am dead, I hope it may be said: “His sins were scarlet, but his books were read.” Перевод на русский язык Когда умру, когда навек уйду… Когда умру, когда навек уйду, Скажите там, в лачугах и в дворцах: «Он […]

English Poetry. Hilaire Belloc. Fatigue. Хилар Беллок. Усталость

Hilaire Belloc (Хилар Беллок) Fatigue I’m tired of Love: I’m still more tired of Rhyme. But Money gives me pleasure all the time. Перевод на русский язык Усталость Я устал, я в изнеможении От Любви и от Стихосложения, Но на Радужную Кредитку Мне весь век любоваться – не […]

English Poetry. Thomas Aird. Song the Seventh. Томас Эрд.

Thomas Aird (Томас Эрд) Song the Seventh Yon Alp, he lifts his snowy horn To catch the virgin rose of morn. Clouds in towering tumult loom: Sunny onsets dash the gloom; Bold burly March, he laughs to do it; Yon showery drift, he whistles through it; Breaks […]

English Poetry. Thomas Aird. Noon. Томас Эрд.

Thomas Aird (Томас Эрд) Noon At times a bird slides through the glossy air, O’er the enamelled woodlands; but no chirp Of song is heard: all’s dumb and panting heat. How waste and idle are yon river sands, Far-stretching white! The stream is almost shrunk Down to the […]

English Poetry. Thomas Aird. Fall of Babylon. Томас Эрд.

Thomas Aird (Томас Эрд) Fall of Babylon ‘Twas midnight hour—in that deep hour Proud lights were up in Babylon; Each palace-hall was pleasure’s bower, Yet sat the king as if alone: His heart was touch’d with chill of stone, He look’d around and knew not why;— In farther […]

English Poetry. Thomas Aird. Fitte the First. Томас Эрд.

Thomas Aird (Томас Эрд) Fitte the First Sing, woodland Muse, Frank Sylvan, brave old buck! In nankeens, he, white stockings, waistcoat white, Green coat, and linen of the amplest cut, White as the snow, tied by a ribbon black Around the swelling apple of his throat, While broad […]

English Poetry. Thomas Aird. A Winter Day: Morning. Томас Эрд.

Thomas Aird (Томас Эрд) A Winter Day: Morning Yon ridge of trees against the frosty east Of Morn, how thin, how fine, how spiritualised Their fringe of naked branches, and of twigs, Distinct, though multitudinous and small! Still rarified, they seem about to be Consumed to nothing in […]

English Poetry. Alfred Austin. A Birthday. Альфред Остин.

Alfred Austin (Альфред Остин) A Birthday The love within my heart that dwells Knows nought of days or hours; I hear thee in the Christmas bells, I feel thee in the vernal showers; And thy breath is blent with the wandering scent Of the summer fruits and flowers. […]