English Poetry. George Gordon Byron. Lines to a Lady Weeping. Джордж Гордон Байрон. Строки к плачущей леди
George Gordon Byron (Джордж Гордон Байрон) Lines to a Lady Weeping Weep, daughter of a royal line, A Sire’s disgrace, a realm’s decay; Ah! happy if each tear of thine Could wash a father’s fault away! Weep–for thy tears are Virtue’s tears Auspicious to these suffering isles; […]
English Poetry. Robert Sidney. Sonnet 7. The hardly captain, unused to retire. Роберт Сидни. Сонет 7. Отважный и упрямый капитан
Robert Sidney (Роберт Сидни) Sonnet 7. The hardly captain, unused to retire The hardly captain, unused to retire, Turns and returns to the too-well-kept place Where wound to wound, disgrace upon disgrace He takes, while will and power ’gainst him conspire: Scorn of repulse, of loss the […]
English Poetry. Elizabeth Barrett-Browning. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 25. A heavy heart, Belovëd, have I borne. Элизабет Барретт-Браунинг.
Elizabeth Barrett-Browning (Элизабет Барретт-Браунинг) Sonnets from the Portuguese. 25. A heavy heart, Belovëd, have I borne A heavy heart, Belovëd, have I borne From year to year until I saw thy face, And sorrow after sorrow took the place Of all those natural joys as lightly worn As […]
English Poetry. Elizabeth Barrett-Browning. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 35. If I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchange. Элизабет Барретт-Браунинг.
Elizabeth Barrett-Browning (Элизабет Барретт-Браунинг) Sonnets from the Portuguese. 35. If I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchange If I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchange And be all to me? Shall I never miss Home-talk and blessing and the common kiss That comes to each in […]
English Poetry. Mary Hobson. They’ll say ‘Do you remember when…?’. Мэри Хобсон. Пусть скажут: «Помните, когда…?»
Mary Hobson (Мэри Хобсон) * * * They’ll say ‘Do you remember when…?’ We’ll be together then. Ah, that’s a too late joy. To be remembered with my boy. March, 2000 Перевод на русский язык * * * Пусть скажут: «Помните, когда…?» И будем вместе мы тогда. Но […]
English Poetry. Mary Hobson. Movement of Trains. Мэри Хобсон. Движение поездов
Mary Hobson (Мэри Хобсон) Movement of Trains Thoughts, like stones in a sieve, jostle for survival. Wheels clatter over the rails. Details are shaken through the dusty grid, witty unspoken retorts, what they said, what he did, leaving the ones that matter. And you live with your own, […]
English Poetry. Mary Hobson. Now I will always know that you died. Мэри Хобсон. Отныне я буду всегда знать, что тебя больше…
Mary Hobson (Мэри Хобсон) * * * Now I will always know that you died. Now I am an imperfect cadence, only to be resolved by my own death. March, 2000 Перевод на русский язык * * * Отныне я буду всегда знать, что тебя больше нет. […]
English Poetry. Elizabeth Barrett-Browning. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 20. Belovëd, my Belovëd, when I think. Элизабет Барретт-Браунинг.
Elizabeth Barrett-Browning (Элизабет Барретт-Браунинг) Sonnets from the Portuguese. 20. Belovëd, my Belovëd, when I think Belovëd, my Belovëd, when I think That thou wast in the world a year ago, What time I sat alone here in the snow And saw no footprint, heard the silence sink No […]
English Poetry. Robert Sidney. Sonnet 5. Of travails past oft when i thinking am. Роберт Сидни. Сонет 5. Минувших лет воспомнив череду
Robert Sidney (Роберт Сидни) Sonnet 5. Of travails past oft when i thinking am Of travails past oft when I thinking am, Of days in sorrows spent, of easeless nights, As they which show scars of bloody fights Glory to me of my love’s wounds I frame. […]
English Poetry. Robert Sidney. Sonnet 4. These purest flames, kindled by beauties rare. Роберт Сидни. Сонет 4. Был сей огонь любовью оживлён
Robert Sidney (Роберт Сидни) Sonnet 4. These purest flames, kindled by beauties rare These purest flames, kindled by beauties rare, Strengthen by love, assured by destiny, In whom I live, which in me cannot die, Which are what I am, and I what they are, True-vestal-like, which […]
English Poetry. Robert Sidney. Sonnet 3. Beauties born of heavens, my soul’s delight. Роберт Сидни. Сонет 3. У зрения забота лишь одна
Robert Sidney (Роберт Сидни) Sonnet 3. Beauties born of heavens, my soul’s delight Beauties born of heavens, my soul’s delight, The only cause which I care to see, You in my heart let no dark sorrows be, You from mine eyes banish all show of night: With […]
English Poetry. Thomas Wyatt. I Find no Peace. Томас Уайетт.
Thomas Wyatt (Томас Уайетт) I Find no Peace I find no peace, and all my war is done. I fear and hope. I burn and freeze like ice. I fly above the wind, yet can I not arise; And nought I have, and all the world I season. […]
English Poetry. Mary Hobson. Another Winter in Zaraisk…. Мэри Хобсон. Ещё одна зима на улице Свободы в Зарайске
Mary Hobson (Мэри Хобсон) Another Winter in Zaraisk… For Marina, with love. At 42, on Freedom Street, how shall I say – it’s less than neat. It wouldn’t pass a test. But that’s because of three rambunctious cats. What gives it dignity and status is that it’s […]
English Poetry. Mary Hobson. Laundry Blues. Мэри Хобсон. Прачечный блюз
Mary Hobson (Мэри Хобсон) Laundry Blues I sort all the dirty clothes night after night. Delicate dark, delicate light, tough dark, white wash, cold wash only, separate piles. What it means to be lonely. Pour in the powder and press the right switch. Why do I care what’s […]
English Poetry. Robert Sidney. Sonnet 2. The pains which I uncessantly sustain. Роберт Сидни. Сонет 2. Я счастлив: я жестоко опалён
Robert Sidney (Роберт Сидни) Sonnet 2. The pains which I uncessantly sustain The pains which I uncessantly sustain, Burning in hottest flames of love most pure, Are joys, not griefs, since each of them are sure Witness that faith, not will, in me doth reign. Vain may […]
English Poetry. Robert Sidney. Sonnet 1. You purest stars, whose never-dying fires. Роберт Сидни. Сонет 1. О звёзды чистоты невыразимой
Robert Sidney (Роберт Сидни) Sonnet 1. You purest stars, whose never-dying fires You purest stars, whose never-dying fires Deck heavenly spheres and rule the world below, Grudge not if I in your clear beauties know The fair maid’s eyes, the stars of my desires. To earthly […]
English Poetry. Elizabeth Barrett-Browning. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 40. Oh, yes! they love through all this world of ours!. Элизабет Барретт-Браунинг.
Elizabeth Barrett-Browning (Элизабет Барретт-Браунинг) Sonnets from the Portuguese. 40. Oh, yes! they love through all this world of ours! Oh, yes! they love through all this world of ours! I will not gainsay love, called love forsooth: I have heard love talked in my early youth, And since, […]
English Poetry. Elizabeth Barrett-Browning. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 30. I see thine image through my tears to-night. Элизабет Барретт-Браунинг.
Elizabeth Barrett-Browning (Элизабет Барретт-Браунинг) Sonnets from the Portuguese. 30. I see thine image through my tears to-night I see thine image through my tears to-night, And yet to-day I saw thee smiling. How Refer the cause?—Belovëd, is it thou Or I, who makes me sad? The acolyte Amid […]
English Poetry. Elizabeth Barrett-Browning. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 27. My own Belovëd, who hast lifted me. Элизабет Барретт-Браунинг.
Elizabeth Barrett-Browning (Элизабет Барретт-Браунинг) Sonnets from the Portuguese. 27. My own Belovëd, who hast lifted me My own Belovëd, who hast lifted me From this drear flat of earth where I was thrown, And, in betwixt the languid ringlets, blown A life-breath, till the forehead hopefully Shines out […]
English Poetry. Elizabeth Barrett-Browning. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 18. I never gave a lock of hair away. Элизабет Барретт-Браунинг.
Elizabeth Barrett-Browning (Элизабет Барретт-Браунинг) Sonnets from the Portuguese. 18. I never gave a lock of hair away I never gave a lock of hair away To a man, Dearest, except this to thee, Which now upon my fingers thoughtfully I ring out to the full brown length and […]
English Poetry. Elizabeth Barrett-Browning. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 11. And therefore if to love can be desert. Элизабет Барретт-Браунинг.
Elizabeth Barrett-Browning (Элизабет Барретт-Браунинг) Sonnets from the Portuguese. 11. And therefore if to love can be desert And therefore if to love can be desert, I am not all unworthy. Cheeks as pale As these you see, and trembling knees that fail To bear the burden of a […]
English Poetry. Elizabeth Barrett-Browning. Bianca among the Nightingales. Элизабет Барретт-Браунинг.
Elizabeth Barrett-Browning (Элизабет Барретт-Браунинг) Bianca among the Nightingales The cypress stood up like a church That night we felt our love would hold, And saintly moonlight seemed to search And wash the whole world clean as gold; The olives crystallized the vales’ Broad slopes until the hills grew […]
English Poetry. Thomas Wyatt. Farewell Love and all thy Laws for ever . Томас Уайетт.
Thomas Wyatt (Томас Уайетт) * * * Farewell love and all thy laws forever; Thy baited hooks shall tangle me no more. Senec and Plato call me from thy lore To perfect wealth, my wit for to endeavour. In blind error when I did persever, Thy sharp repulse, […]
English Poetry. Elizabeth Barrett-Browning. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 38. First time he kissed me, he but only kissed. Элизабет Барретт-Браунинг.
Elizabeth Barrett-Browning (Элизабет Барретт-Браунинг) Sonnets from the Portuguese. 38. First time he kissed me, he but only kissed First time he kissed me, he but only kissed The finger of this hand wherewith I write; And ever since, it grew more clean and white, Slow to world-greetings, quick […]
English Poetry. Elizabeth Barrett-Browning. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 22. When our two souls stand up erect and strong. Элизабет Барретт-Браунинг.
Elizabeth Barrett-Browning (Элизабет Барретт-Браунинг) Sonnets from the Portuguese. 22. When our two souls stand up erect and strong When our two souls stand up erect and strong, Face to face, silent, drawing nigh and nigher, Until the lengthening wings break into fire At either curvèd point,—what bitter wrong […]
English Poetry. Elizabeth Barrett-Browning. Cheerfulness Taught by Reason. Элизабет Барретт-Браунинг.
Elizabeth Barrett-Browning (Элизабет Барретт-Браунинг) Cheerfulness Taught by Reason I THINK we are too ready with complaint In this fair world of God’s. Had we no hope Indeed beyond the zenith and the slope Of yon gray blank of sky, we might grow faint To muse upon eternity’s constraint […]
English Poetry. Mark Akenside. Ode 9. To Sleep. Марк Эйкенсайд.
Mark Akenside (Марк Эйкенсайд) Ode 9. To Sleep Thou silent pow’r, whose balmy sway Charms every anxious thought away; In whose divine oblivion drown’d, Fatigue and toiling pain grow mild, Love is with sweet success beguil’d, And sad remorse forgets her secret wound; O whither hast thou flown, […]
English Poetry. Mark Akenside. Ode 6. On the Absence of the Poetic Inclination. Марк Эйкенсайд.
Mark Akenside (Марк Эйкенсайд) Ode 6. On the Absence of the Poetic Inclination Queen of my songs, harmonious maid, Why, why hast thou withdrawn thy aid? Why thus forsook my widow’d breast, With dark infeebling damps oppress’d? Where is the bold prophetic heat, With which my bosom wont […]
English Poetry. Mark Akenside. An Ode to the Country Gentlemen of England. Марк Эйкенсайд.
Mark Akenside (Марк Эйкенсайд) An Ode to the Country Gentlemen of England Whither is Europe’s ancient spirit fled? Where are those valiant tenants of her shore, Who from the warrior bow the strong dart sped, Or with firm hand the rapid pole-axe bore? Freeman and soldier was their […]
English Poetry. Mark Akenside. Ode 1. Allusion to Horace. Марк Эйкенсайд.
Mark Akenside (Марк Эйкенсайд) Ode 1. Allusion to Horace Amid the garden’s fragrance laid, Where yonder limes behold their shade Along the glassy stream, With HORACE and his tuneful ease I’ll rest from crouds, and care’s disease, And summer’s piercing beam. Behold the busy, wand’ring BEE! From […]
English Poetry. Mark Akenside. The Virtuoso; in imitation of Spencer’s Style and Stanza. Марк Эйкенсайд.
Mark Akenside (Марк Эйкенсайд) The Virtuoso; in imitation of Spencer’s Style and Stanza Whilom by silver Thame’s gentle stream, In London town there dwelt a subtile wight; A wight of mickle wealth, and mickle fame, Book-learn’d and quaint; a virtuoso hight. Uncommon things, and rare were his delight; […]
English Poetry. James Fisher. The Devil’s Advice to Swearers. Джеймс Фишер. Послание дьявола ругателям и сквернословам
James Fisher (Джеймс Фишер) The Devil’s Advice to Swearers My couthie lads, baith far an’ near, Wha loo to curse, an’ loo to swear, Ye are the lads that I loo dear, You at the last I’ll weel reward, ye need na fear, When time is past. […]
English Poetry. James Fisher. On Halloween. Джеймс Фишер. Хэллоуин
James Fisher (Джеймс Фишер) On Halloween 1. The sun was neulins doun the lift, The ky bun i’ the byre, While chiels did sit in gay gude tift, Wi hizzies roun’ the fire; – To crack broun nits was a’ their thrift, Until their teeth did tire, An’ […]
English Poetry. Isaac Watts. Praise for Creation and Providence. Исаак Уоттс.
Isaac Watts (Исаак Уоттс) Praise for Creation and Providence I sing the mighty power of God, that made the mountains rise, That spread the flowing seas abroad, and built the lofty skies. I sing the wisdom that ordained the sun to rule the day; The moon shines full […]
English Poetry. George Essex Evans. Failure. Джордж Эссекс Эванс.
George Essex Evans (Джордж Эссекс Эванс) Failure THE BOY went out from the ranges grim, And the breath of the mountains went with him; With a song in his heart and a smile on his face, And a light in his eyes for a foremost place: And the […]
English Poetry. George Essex Evans. The Grey Road. Джордж Эссекс Эванс.
George Essex Evans (Джордж Эссекс Эванс) The Grey Road A sun-flash on his mounting wing, A wild note soaring high— The lark is up, the minstrel king, The poet of the sky. To thrill, to sing of Youth and Spring Those golden numbers flowed. What message then Has […]
English Poetry. George Essex Evans. The Average Man. Джордж Эссекс Эванс.
George Essex Evans (Джордж Эссекс Эванс) The Average Man His hat looks worn, and his coat-sleeves shine, As I see him step from his ’bus at nine; His boots are pieced and his tie home-made, And his trousers patched where the edge was frayed, And his face is […]
English Poetry. George Essex Evans. Brunton Stephens. Джордж Эссекс Эванс.
George Essex Evans (Джордж Эссекс Эванс) Brunton Stephens The gentle heart that hated wrong, The courage that all ills withstood, The seeing eye, the mighty song That stirred us into Nationhood, Have passed. What garlands can be spread? The Prince of Courtesy is dead. The power that […]
English Poetry. George Essex Evans. Altiora Peto. Джордж Эссекс Эванс.
George Essex Evans (Джордж Эссекс Эванс) Altiora Peto O for a vision of the perfect light To shame the splendour of the morning star! O for a breath from out the Infinite Where the great heart of Being throbs afar! O for that sound, too fine for mortal […]
English Poetry. George Essex Evans. To the Irish Dead. Джордж Эссекс Эванс.
George Essex Evans (Джордж Эссекс Эванс) To the Irish Dead ’TIS a green isle set in a silver water, A fairy isle where the shamrock grows. Land of Legend, the Dream-Queen’s daughter— Out of the Fairies’ hands She rose. They touched Her harp with a tender sighing, A […]