English Poetry. Robert Hetrick. The Invasion. Роберт Хетрик. Вторжение
Robert Hetrick (Роберт Хетрик) The Invasion While Monsieur is vowing our nation he’ll ruin, Deprive us o’ freedom, our monarch an’ a’, His restless Convention declare their intention Nae mair to let Britons o’ liberty blaw: Their flat-bottom’d vermin, along the coast swarming, Are ready to bring […]
English Poetry. John Skinner. The Epistle to Robert Burns from the Author of «Tullochgorum». Джон Скиннер. Послание Роберту Бернсу от автора «Таллоохгорума»
John Skinner (Джон Скиннер) The Epistle to Robert Burns from the Author of «Tullochgorum» “O happy hour for evermair, That led my chill* up Cha’mers’ stair, And gae him, what he values sair, Sae braw a skance Of Ayrshire’s dainty Poet there, By lucky chance. “Wae’s my […]
English Poetry. John Skinner. On Burns’ Address to a Louse. Джон Скиннер. О стихотворении Роберта Бернса «Вши, которую я увидел в церкви на шляпке одной леди»
John Skinner (Джон Скиннер) On Burns’ Address to a Louse [Note: These verses were written at the suggestion of a lady who did not like Burns’ address to the “crawlin ferlie” which he saw on a lady’s bonnet in the church of Mauchline.] A Lousie […]
English Poetry. John Skinner. John o’ Badenyon. Джон Скиннер. «Джон из Баденьона»
John Skinner (Джон Скиннер) John o’ Badenyon [Note: “This excellent song,” says Burns, “is the composition of my worthy friend old Skinner at Linshart.”] 1. When first I came to be a man Of twenty years or so, I thought myself a handsome […]
English Poetry. John Skinner. Tullochgorum. Джон Скиннер. Таллохго́рум
John Skinner (Джон Скиннер) Tullochgorum [Note: This, as Burns’ says, “the best Scotch song ever Scotland saw” was suggested, during a political dispute, by Mrs Montgomery, at whose house in the village of Ellon, Aberdeenshire, Mr Skinner had been on a visit. It was first printed in […]
English Poetry. Robert Herrick. A Hymn to Love. Роберт Геррик (Херрик).
Robert Herrick (Роберт Геррик (Херрик)) A Hymn to Love I will confess With cheerfulness, Love is a thing so likes me, That, let her lay On me all day, I’ll kiss the hand that strikes me. I will not, I, Now blubb’ring cry, It, ah! too late […]
English Poetry. Thomas Wentworth Higginson. The Trumpeter. Томас Уэнтворт Хиггинсон.
Thomas Wentworth Higginson (Томас Уэнтворт Хиггинсон) The Trumpeter I BLEW, I blew, the trumpet loudly sounding; I blew, I blew, the heart within me bounding; The world was fresh and fair, yet dark with wrong, And men stood forth to conquer at the song– I blew! I blew! […]
English Poetry. Thomas Wentworth Higginson. The Baby Sorceress. Томас Уэнтворт Хиггинсон.
Thomas Wentworth Higginson (Томас Уэнтворт Хиггинсон) The Baby Sorceress MY baby sits beneath the tall elm-trees, A wreath of tangled ribbons in her hands; She twines and twists the many-coloured strands,– A little sorceress, weaving destinies. Now the pure white she grasps; now naught can please But strips […]
English Poetry. Pelham Grenville Wodehouse. The Pessimist. Пелем Гренвилл Вудхаус. Пессимист
Pelham Grenville Wodehouse (Пелем Гренвилл Вудхаус) The Pessimist They tell me that the weather’s fair, The day serene and balmy; No more for rain need I prepare – No chilly blast shall harm me. They prate of ‘warmth’, of ‘gentle glows’, They rave […]
English Poetry. Pelham Grenville Wodehouse. Napoleon. Пелем Гренвилл Вудхаус. Наполеон
Pelham Grenville Wodehouse (Пелем Гренвилл Вудхаус) Napoleon Napoleon was a little guy: They used to call him Shorty. He only stood about so high. His chest was under forty But when folks started talking mean. His pride it didn’t injure: ‘My queen,’ […]
English Poetry. Pelham Grenville Wodehouse. ’Tis Folly to Be Wise. Пелем Гренвилл Вудхаус. Много будешь знать – скоро состаришься
Pelham Grenville Wodehouse (Пелем Гренвилл Вудхаус) ’Tis Folly to Be Wise [An American Scientist has come to the conclusion that the tendency of too much education or intellectual development in women is to make them lose their beauty.] O PHYLLIS, once no task to me […]
English Poetry. Pelham Grenville Wodehouse. The Lost Repartee. Пелем Гренвилл Вудхаус. Забытый удачный ответ
Pelham Grenville Wodehouse (Пелем Гренвилл Вудхаус) The Lost Repartee Oh! bitter the grief that it causes to me, The thought of that wonderful, lost repartee. In its youth and its beauty it fled from my brain And never, I fear me, ah! Never again, If I […]
English Poetry. Alfred Edward Housman. Last Poems. 32. When I Would Muse in Boyhood. Альфред Эдвард Хаусман (Хаусмен).
Alfred Edward Housman (Альфред Эдвард Хаусман (Хаусмен)) Last Poems. 32. When I Would Muse in Boyhood When I would muse in boyhood The wild green woods among, And nurse resolves and fancies Because the world was young, It was not foes to conquer, Nor sweethearts to be kind, […]
English Poetry. Alfred Edward Housman. Last Poems. 39. When Summer’s End Is Nighing. Альфред Эдвард Хаусман (Хаусмен).
Alfred Edward Housman (Альфред Эдвард Хаусман (Хаусмен)) Last Poems. 39. When Summer’s End Is Nighing When summer’s end is nighing And skies at evening cloud, I muse on change and fortune And all the feats I vowed When I was young and proud. The weathercock at sunset […]
English Poetry. Alfred Edward Housman. Last Poems. 30. Sinner’s Rue. Альфред Эдвард Хаусман (Хаусмен).
Alfred Edward Housman (Альфред Эдвард Хаусман (Хаусмен)) Last Poems. 30. Sinner’s Rue I walked alone and thinking, And faint the nightwind blew And stirred on mounds at crossways The flower of sinner’s rue. Where the roads part they bury Him that his own hand slays, And so […]
English Poetry. Alfred Edward Housman. Last Poems. 22. The Sloe Was Lost in Flower. Альфред Эдвард Хаусман (Хаусмен).
Alfred Edward Housman (Альфред Эдвард Хаусман (Хаусмен)) Last Poems. 22. The Sloe Was Lost in Flower The sloe was lost in flower, The April elm was dim; That was the lover’s hour, The hour for lies and him. If thorns are all the bower, If north winds […]
English Poetry. Robert Herrick. To Daffodils. Роберт Геррик (Херрик).
Robert Herrick (Роберт Геррик (Херрик)) To Daffodils Fair Daffodils, we weep to see You haste away so soon; As yet the early-rising sun Has not attain’d his noon. Stay, stay, Until the hasting day Has run But to the even-song; And, having pray’d together, we Will go with […]
English Poetry. Alfred Edward Housman. Last Poems. 18. The Rain, It Streams on Stone and Hillock. Альфред Эдвард Хаусман (Хаусмен). Последние стихи. 18. Вода стекает с камня в глину
Alfred Edward Housman (Альфред Эдвард Хаусман (Хаусмен)) Last Poems. 18. The Rain, It Streams on Stone and Hillock The rain, it streams on stone and hillock, The boot clings to the clay. Since all is done that’s due and right Let’s home; and now, my lad, good-night, For […]
English Poetry. Alfred Edward Housman. Last Poems. 14. The Culprit. Альфред Эдвард Хаусман (Хаусмен).
Alfred Edward Housman (Альфред Эдвард Хаусман (Хаусмен)) Last Poems. 14. The Culprit The night my father got me His mind was not on me; He did not plague his fancy To muse if I should be The son you see. The day my mother bore me She […]
English Poetry. Alfred Tennyson. Morte d’Arthur. Альфред Теннисон. Morte d’Arthur
Alfred Tennyson (Альфред Теннисон) Morte d’Arthur So all day long the noise of battle roll’d Among the mountains by the winter sea; Until King Arthur’s table, man by man, Had fallen in Lyonnesse about their Lord, King Arthur: then, because his wound was deep, The bold Sir Bedivere […]
English Poetry. Alfred Edward Housman. Last Poems. 4. Illic Jacet. Альфред Эдвард Хаусман (Хаусмен).
Alfred Edward Housman (Альфред Эдвард Хаусман (Хаусмен)) Last Poems. 4. Illic Jacet Oh hard is the bed they have made him, And common the blanket and cheap; But there he will lie as they laid him: Where else could you trust him to sleep? To sleep when […]
English Poetry. Pelham Grenville Wodehouse. To an Amazon. Пелем Гренвилл Вудхаус. Влюблённый боксёр
Pelham Grenville Wodehouse (Пелем Гренвилл Вудхаус) To an Amazon [At a recent glove-fight between FITZSIMMONS and JACK O’BRIEN, at Philadelphia, the greater and more enthusiastic of the audience was composed of women.] BEDELIA, ’neath your tiny boot My throbbing heart I throw: Oh, deign […]
English Poetry. Pelham Grenville Wodehouse. A Solitary Triumph. Пелем Гренвилл Вудхаус. Баллада о непревзойдённых
Pelham Grenville Wodehouse (Пелем Гренвилл Вудхаус) A Solitary Triumph [Statistics show that the number of criminal women is considerably less in proportion than that of male criminals.] OH, the progress of Woman has really been vast Since Civilization began. She’s usurped all […]
English Poetry. Robert Henryson. Against Hasty Credence. Роберт Хенрисон.
Robert Henryson (Роберт Хенрисон) Against Hasty Credence Fals titlaris now growis up full rank, Nocht ympit in the stok of cheretie, Howping at thair lord to gett grit thank Thay haif no dreid on thair nybouris to lie; Than sowld ane lord awyse him weill I se Quhen […]
English Poetry. Robert Henryson. The Fox, the Wolf, and the Husbandman. Роберт Хенрисон.
Robert Henryson (Роберт Хенрисон) The Fox, the Wolf, and the Husbandman In elderis dayis, as Esope can declair, Thair wes ane husband quhilk had ane plewch to steir. His use wes ay in morning to ryse air: Sa happinnit him, in streiking tyme off yeir, Airlie in the […]
English Poetry. Robert Henryson. The Want of Wyse Men. Роберт Хенрисон.
Robert Henryson (Роберт Хенрисон) The Want of Wyse Men Me mervellis of this grete confusion; I wald sum clerk of connyng walde declerde, Quhat gerris this warld be turnyt upsyd doun. Thare is na faithfull fastnes founde in erd; Now are noucht thre may traistly trow the ferde; […]
English Poetry. Robert Henryson. The Praise of Age. Роберт Хенрисон.
Robert Henryson (Роберт Хенрисон) The Praise of Age Wythin a garth, under a rede rosere, Ane ald man and decrepit herd I syng; Gay was the note, suete was the voce and clere; It was grete joy to here of sik a thing. “And to my dome,” he […]
English Poetry. George Herbert. Mattins. Джордж Герберт (Херберт).
George Herbert (Джордж Герберт (Херберт)) Mattins I cannot ope mine eyes, But thou art ready there to catch My morning-soul and sacrifice: Then we must needs for that day make a match. My God, what is a heart? Silver, or gold, or precious stone, Or star, or […]
English Poetry. Robert Henryson. The Annunciation. Роберт Хенрисон.
Robert Henryson (Роберт Хенрисон) The Annunciation Forcy as deith is likand lufe, Throuch quhome al bittir suet is; No thing is hard, as writ can pruf, Till him in lufe that letis; Luf us fra barret betis. Quhen fra the hevinly sete abufe In message Gabriell couth muf, […]
English Poetry. Alfred Edward Housman. Additional Poems. 16. Some Can Gaze and not Be Sick. Альфред Эдвард Хаусман (Хаусмен).
Alfred Edward Housman (Альфред Эдвард Хаусман (Хаусмен)) Additional Poems. 16. Some Can Gaze and not Be Sick Some can gaze and not be sick But I could never learn the trick. There’s this to say for blood and breath, They give a man a taste for death. Alfred […]
English Poetry. Alfred Edward Housman. Additional Poems. 12. Stay, if You List, O Passer by the Way. Альфред Эдвард Хаусман (Хаусмен).
Alfred Edward Housman (Альфред Эдвард Хаусман (Хаусмен)) Additional Poems. 12. Stay, if You List, O Passer by the Way Stay, if you list, O passer by the way; Yet night approaches; better not to stay. I never sigh, nor flush, nor knit the brow, Nor grieve to think […]
English Poetry. Alfred Edward Housman. Additional Poems. 2. Oh Were He and I Together. Альфред Эдвард Хаусман (Хаусмен).
Alfred Edward Housman (Альфред Эдвард Хаусман (Хаусмен)) Additional Poems. 2. Oh Were He and I Together Oh were he and I together, Shipmates on the fleeted main, Sailing through the summer weather To the spoil of France or Spain. Oh were he and I together, Locking hands […]
English Poetry. Alfred Edward Housman. Additional Poems. 8. Now to Her Lap the Incestuous Earth. Альфред Эдвард Хаусман (Хаусмен).
Alfred Edward Housman (Альфред Эдвард Хаусман (Хаусмен)) Additional Poems. 8. Now to Her Lap the Incestuous Earth Now to her lap the incestuous earth The son she bore has ta’en. And other sons she brings to birth But not my friend again. Alfred Edward Housman’s other poems: Last […]
English Poetry. Alfred Edward Housman. Additional Poems. 21. New Year’s Eve. Альфред Эдвард Хаусман (Хаусмен).
Alfred Edward Housman (Альфред Эдвард Хаусман (Хаусмен)) Additional Poems. 21. New Year’s Eve The end of the year fell chilly Between a moon and a moon; Thorough the twilight shrilly The bells rang, ringing no tune. The windows stained with story, The walls with miracle scored, Were […]
English Poetry. William Ernest Henley. In Rotten Row. Уильям Эрнст Хенли.
William Ernest Henley (Уильям Эрнст Хенли) In Rotten Row In Rotten Row a cigarette I sat and smoked, with no regret For all the tumult that had been. The distances were still and green, And streaked with shadows cool and wet. Two sweethearts on a bench were […]
English Poetry. William Ernest Henley. In Hospital. 4. Before. Уильям Эрнст Хенли.
William Ernest Henley (Уильям Эрнст Хенли) In Hospital. 4. Before Behold me waiting—waiting for the knife. A little while, and at a leap I storm The thick, sweet mystery of chloroform, The drunken dark, the little death-in-life. The gods are good to me: I have no wife, No […]
English Poetry. William Ernest Henley. Echoes. 42. A Wink from Hesper. Уильям Эрнст Хенли.
William Ernest Henley (Уильям Эрнст Хенли) Echoes. 42. A Wink from Hesper A wink from Hesper, falling Fast in the wintry sky, Comes through the even blue, Dear, like a word from you… Is it good-bye? Across the miles between us I send you sigh for sigh. […]
English Poetry. William Ernest Henley. Rhymes and Rhythms. 7. There’s a Regret. Уильям Эрнст Хенли.
William Ernest Henley (Уильям Эрнст Хенли) Rhymes and Rhythms. 7. There’s a Regret There’s a regret So grinding, so immitigably sad, Remorse thereby feels tolerant, even glad.… Do you not know it yet? For deeds undone Rnakle and snarl and hunger for their due, Till there seems […]
English Poetry. George Herbert. A Wreath. Джордж Герберт (Херберт).
George Herbert (Джордж Герберт (Херберт)) A Wreath A wreathed garland of deserved praise, Of praise deserved, unto thee I give, I give to thee, who knowest all my wayes, My crooked winding wayes, wherein I live, Wherein I die, not live : for life is straight, Straight as […]
English Poetry. William Ernest Henley. London Types: Bus Driver. Уильям Эрнст Хенли.
William Ernest Henley (Уильям Эрнст Хенли) London Types: Bus Driver He’s called The General from the brazen craft And dash with which he sneaks a bit of road And all its fares; challenged, or chafed, or chaffed, Back-answers of the newest he’ll explode; He reins his horses with […]