English Poetry. Oscar Wilde. Santa Decca. Оскар Уайльд.
Oscar Wilde (Оскар Уайльд) Santa Decca THE Gods are dead: no longer do we bring To grey-eyed Pallas crowns of olive-leaves! Demeter’s child no more hath tithe of sheaves, And in the noon the careless shepherds sing, For Pan is dead, and all the wantoning By secret glade […]
English Poetry. George Gordon Byron. To Mr. Murray (Strahan, Tonson Lintot Of The Times). Джордж Гордон Байрон. К мистеру Меррею (Стрэхен, Линто былых времен..)
George Gordon Byron (Джордж Гордон Байрон) To Mr. Murray (Strahan, Tonson Lintot Of The Times) Strahan, Tonson Lintot of the times, Patron and publisher of rhymes, For thee the bard up Pindus climbs, My Murray. To thee, with hope and terror dumb, The unedged MS. authors come; […]
English Poetry. Walter Scott. Donald Caird’s Come Again!. Вальтер Скотт. Доналд Кэрд вернулся к нам!
Walter Scott (Вальтер Скотт) * * * Donald Caird’s come again! Donald Caird’s come again! Tell the news in brugh and glen, Donald Caird’s come again! Donald Caird can lilt and sing, Blithely dance the Hieland fling, Drink till the gudeman be blind, Fleech till the gudewife […]
English Poetry. Walter Scott. Pharos Loquitur. Вальтер Скотт.
Walter Scott (Вальтер Скотт) Pharos Loquitur Far in the bosom of the deep, O’er these wild shelves my watch I keep; A ruddy gem of changeful light, Bound on the dusky brow of night, The seaman bids my lustre hail, And scorns to strike his timorous sail. Walter […]
English Poetry. Clinton Scollard. Wheat. Клинтон Сколлард.
Clinton Scollard (Клинтон Сколлард) Wheat Behold a billowy sea of golden spears That to and fro in every breeze that blows Tosses its amber waves and proudly shows Bright scarlet poppies when the warm wind veers. Hearken, and lo! there falls upon the ears A song as mellow […]
English Poetry. Clinton Scollard. A Day for Wandering. Клинтон Сколлард.
Clinton Scollard (Клинтон Сколлард) A Day for Wandering I set apart a day for wandering; I heard the woodlands ring, The hidden white-throat sing, And the harmonic West, Beyond a far hill-crest, Touch its Aeolian string. Remote from all the brawl and […]
English Poetry. Clinton Scollard. Fraidie-Cat. Клинтон Сколлард.
Clinton Scollard (Клинтон Сколлард) Fraidie-Cat I shan’t tell you what’s his name: When we want to play a game, Always thinks that he’ll be hurt, Soil his jacket in the dirt, Tear his trousers, spoil his hat,— Fraidie-Cat! Fraidie-Cat! Nothing of the boy in him! “Dasn’t” try […]
English Poetry. Clinton Scollard. The Fountain. Клинтон Сколлард.
Clinton Scollard (Клинтон Сколлард) The Fountain A Triton, drowsy as the god of Sleep, From horn uplifted pours a limpid stream Athwart whose falling drops the sunbeams gleam Through waving boughs that span the crystal deep. From brooding branches bright-eyed nestlings peep, The merry sylvan choirs are hushed […]
English Poetry. Clinton Scollard. Sylvia. Клинтон Сколлард.
Clinton Scollard (Клинтон Сколлард) Sylvia Sylvia’s hair is like the night, Touched with glancing starry beams; Such a face as drifts thro’ dreams, This is Sylvia to the sight. And the touch of Sylvia’s hand Is as light as milkweed down, When the meads are golden brown, And […]
English Poetry. Rudyard Kipling. «Epitaphs of the War». 1914-1918. 3. A Son. Редьярд Киплинг. «Эпитафии Войны». 1914-1918. 3. Сын
Rudyard Kipling (Редьярд Киплинг) «Epitaphs of the War». 1914-1918. 3. A Son My son was killed while laughing at some jest. I would I knew What it was, and it might serve me in a time when jests are few. Перевод на русский язык «Эпитафии Войны». 1914-1918. […]
English Poetry. Rudyard Kipling. «Epitaphs of the War». 1914-1918. 1. «Equality of Sacrifice». Редьярд Киплинг. «Эпитафии Войны». 1914-1918. 1. Убытки поровну
Rudyard Kipling (Редьярд Киплинг) «Epitaphs of the War». 1914-1918. 1. «Equality of Sacrifice» A. “I was a Have.” B. “I was a ‘have-not.’” (Together). “What hast thou given which I gave not?” Перевод на русский язык «Эпитафии Войны». 1914-1918. 1. Убытки поровну А: «Я был при жизни […]
English Poetry. William Gilmore Simms. Sumter in Ruins. Уильям Гилмор Симмс.
William Gilmore Simms (Уильям Гилмор Симмс) Sumter in Ruins I. Ye batter down the lion’s den, But yet the lordly beast g’oes free; And ye shall hear his roar again, From mountain height, from lowland glen, From sandy shore and reedy fen– Where’er a band of freeborn […]
English Poetry. Oscar Wilde. Rome Unvisited. Оскар Уайльд. Рим вожделенный
Oscar Wilde (Оскар Уайльд) Rome Unvisited I. THE corn has turned from grey to red, Since first my spirit wandered forth From the drear cities of the north, And to Italia’s mountains fled. And here I set my face towards home, For all my pilgrimage is […]
English Poetry. William Gilmore Simms. Fort Wagner. Уильям Гилмор Симмс.
William Gilmore Simms (Уильям Гилмор Симмс) Fort Wagner I. Glory unto the gallant boys who stood At Wagner, and, unflinching, sought the van; Dealing fierce blows, and shedding precious blood, For homes as precious, and dear rights of man! They’ve won the meed, and they shall have […]
English Poetry. William Gilmore Simms. The Decay of a People. Уильям Гилмор Симмс.
William Gilmore Simms (Уильям Гилмор Симмс) The Decay of a People THIS the true sign of ruin to a race — It undertakes no march, and day by day Drowses in camp, or, with the laggard’s pace, Walks sentry o’er possessions that decay; Destined, […]
English Poetry. Owen Seaman. Yet. Оуэн Симен.
Owen Seaman (Оуэн Симен) Yet (AFTER F. E. W.) Sing me a drawing-room song, darling! Sing by the sunset’s glow; Now while the shadows are long, darling; Now while the lights are low; Something so chaste and so coy, darling! Something that melts the chest; Milder than […]
English Poetry. Owen Seaman. Ars Postera. Оуэн Симен.
Owen Seaman (Оуэн Симен) Ars Postera [On an advertisement of A Comedy of Sighs.] Mr. Aubrey Beer de Beers, You’re getting quite a high renown; Your Comedy of Leers, you know, Is posted all about the town; This sort of stuff I cannot puff, As Boston says, […]
English Poetry. Owen Seaman. To an Old Fogey. Оуэн Симен.
Owen Seaman (Оуэн Симен) To an Old Fogey (Who Contends that Christmas is Played Out) O frankly bald and obviously stout! And so you find that Christmas as a fete Dispassionately viewed, is getting out Of date. The studied festal air is overdone; The humour of […]
English Poetry. Owen Seaman. England’s Alfred Abroad. Оуэн Симен.
Owen Seaman (Оуэн Симен) England’s Alfred Abroad [M. Alfred Austin, poète-lauréat d’Angleterre, vient d’arriver à Nice, où il a devancé la Reine. Il était, hier, dans les jardins de Monte-Carlo. Sera-ce sous notre ciel qu’il écrira son premier poème?––Menton-Mondain.] Wrong? are they wrong? Of course […]
English Poetry. Owen Seaman. The Avengers. Оуэн Симен.
Owen Seaman (Оуэн Симен) The Avengers Not only that your cause is just and right – This much was never doubted; war or play, We go with clean hands into any fight; That is our English way; – Not this high thought alone shall brace your thews […]
English Poetry. Owen Seaman. Pro Patria. Оуэн Симен.
Owen Seaman (Оуэн Симен) Pro Patria England, in this great fight to which you go Because, where Honour calls you, go you must, Be glad, whatever comes, at least to know You have your quarrel just. Peace was your care; before the nations’ bar Her cause you […]
English Poetry. Owen Seaman. The Uses of Ocean. Оуэн Симен.
Owen Seaman (Оуэн Симен) The Uses of Ocean To people who allege that we Incline to overrate the Sea I answer, “We do not; Apart from being colored blue, It has its uses not a few; I cannot think what we should do If ever ‘the deep did […]
English Poetry. Thomas Hardy. The Chimes Play ‘Life’s a Bumper!’. Томас Гарди (Харди).
Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) The Chimes Play ‘Life’s a Bumper!’ ‘Awake! I’m off to cities far away,’ I said; and rose, on peradventures bent. The chimes played ‘Life’s a Bumper!’ long that day To the measure of my walking as I went: Their sweetness frisked and floated […]
English Poetry. Oscar Wilde. E Tenebris. Оскар Уайльд.
Oscar Wilde (Оскар Уайльд) E Tenebris COME down, O Christ, and help me! reach thy hand, For I am drowning in a stormier sea Than Simon on thy lake of Galilee: The wine of life is spilt upon the sand, My heart is as some famine-murdered land, Whence […]
English Poetry. Thomas Hardy. End of the Year 1912. Томас Гарди (Харди).
Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) End of the Year 1912 You were here at his young beginning, You are not here at his agèd end; Off he coaxed you from Life’s mad spinning, Lest you should see his form extend Shivering, sighing, Slowly dying, And a tear on […]
English Poetry. Thomas Hardy. The Wedding Morning. Томас Гарди (Харди).
Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) The Wedding Morning Tabitha dressed for her wedding: – ‘Tabby, why look so sad?’ ‘ – O I feel a great gloominess spreading, spreading, Instead of supremely glad!.. ‘I called on Carry last night, And he came whilst I was there, […]
English Poetry. Thomas Hardy. Two Serenades. Томас Гарди (Харди).
Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) Two Serenades I On Christmas Eve Late on Christmas Eve, in the street alone, Outside a house, on the pavement-stone, I sang to her, as we’d sung together On former eves ere I felt her tether. – Above the door of […]
English Poetry. Thomas Hardy. At Lulworth Cove a Century Back. Томас Гарди (Харди).
Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) At Lulworth Cove a Century Back Had I but lived a hundred years ago I might have gone, as I have gone this year, By Warmwell Cross on to a Cove I know, And Time have placed his finger on me there: […]
English Poetry. Thomas Hardy. A Young Man’s Exhortation. Томас Гарди (Харди).
Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) A Young Man’s Exhortation Call off your eyes from care By some determined deftness; put forth joys Dear as excess without the core that cloys, And charm Life’s lourings fair. Exalt and crown the hour That girdles us, and fill it full […]
English Poetry. Rudyard Kipling. «Epitaphs of the War». 1914-1918. 18. Bombed in London. Редьярд Киплинг. «Эпитафии Войны». 1914-1918. 18. Погибший в Лондоне во время бомбёжки
Rudyard Kipling (Редьярд Киплинг) «Epitaphs of the War». 1914-1918. 18. Bombed in London On land and sea I strove with anxious care To escape conscription. It was in the air! Перевод на русский язык «Эпитафии Войны». 1914-1918. 18. Погибший в Лондоне во время бомбёжки Я, хлябь и […]
English Poetry. Rudyard Kipling. «Epitaphs of the War». 1914-1918. 12. Two Canadian Memorials. Редьярд Киплинг. «Эпитафии Войны». 1914-1918. 12. Две надписи на памятниках канадским солдатам
Rudyard Kipling (Редьярд Киплинг) «Epitaphs of the War». 1914-1918. 12. Two Canadian Memorials I We giving all gained all. Neither lament us nor praise. Only in all things recall, It is Fear, not Death that slays. II From little towns in a far land we […]
English Poetry. Rudyard Kipling. «Epitaphs of the War». 1914-1918. 33. Actors. Редьярд Киплинг. «Эпитафии Войны». 1914-1918. 33. Актёры
Rudyard Kipling (Редьярд Киплинг) «Epitaphs of the War». 1914-1918. 33. Actors On a Memorial Tablet in Holy Trinity Church, Stratford-on-Avon We counterfeited once for your disport Men’s joy and sorrow: but our day has passed. We pray you pardon all where we fell short— Seeing we were […]
English Poetry. Rudyard Kipling. «Epitaphs of the War». 1914-1918. 28. Unknown Female Corpse. Редьярд Киплинг. «Эпитафии Войны». 1914-1918. 28. Неопознанный женский труп
Rudyard Kipling (Редьярд Киплинг) «Epitaphs of the War». 1914-1918. 28. Unknown Female Corpse Headless, lacking foot and hand, Horrible I come to land. I beseech all women’s sons Know I was a mother once. Перевод на русский язык «Эпитафии Войны». 1914-1918. 28. Неопознанный женский труп […]
English Poetry. Rudyard Kipling. «Epitaphs of the War». 1914-1918. 25. A Drifter off Tarentum. Редьярд Киплинг. «Эпитафии Войны». 1914-1918. 25. Дрифтер из Таранто
Rudyard Kipling (Редьярд Киплинг) «Epitaphs of the War». 1914-1918. 25. A Drifter off Tarentum He from the wind-bitten North with ship and companions descended, Searching for eggs of death spawned by invisible hulls. Many he found and drew forth. Of a sudden the fishery ended […]
English Poetry. Oscar Wilde. Pan. Оскар Уайльд.
Oscar Wilde (Оскар Уайльд) Pan 1. O goat-foot God of Arcady! This modern world is grey and old, And what remains to us of thee? No more the shepherd lads in glee Throw apples at thy wattled fold, O goat-foot God of Arcady! Nor through […]
English Poetry. Rudyard Kipling. «Epitaphs of the War». 1914-1918. 21. Common Form. Редьярд Киплинг. «Эпитафии Войны». 1914-1918. 21. Обычная история
Rudyard Kipling (Редьярд Киплинг) «Epitaphs of the War». 1914-1918. 21. Common Form If any question why we died, Tell them, because our fathers lied. Перевод на русский язык «Эпитафии Войны». 1914-1918. 21. Обычная история – Из-за чего погибли вы, юнцы? – Из-за того, что лгали нам […]
English Poetry. Rudyard Kipling. «Epitaphs of the War». 1914-1918. 16. The Refined Man. Редьярд Киплинг. «Эпитафии Войны». 1914-1918. 16. Благовоспитанный
Rudyard Kipling (Редьярд Киплинг) «Epitaphs of the War». 1914-1918. 16. The Refined Man I was of delicate mind. I stepped aside for my needs, Disdaining the common office. I was seen from afar and killed… How is this matter for mirth? Let each man be judged […]
English Poetry. Rudyard Kipling. «Epitaphs of the War». 1914-1918. 13. The Favour. Редьярд Киплинг. «Эпитафии Войны». 1914-1918. 13. Одолженье
Rudyard Kipling (Редьярд Киплинг) «Epitaphs of the War». 1914-1918. 13. The Favour Death favoured me from the first, well knowing I could not endure To wait on him day by day. He quitted my betters and came Whistling over the fields, and, when he had made […]
English Poetry. Rudyard Kipling. «Epitaphs of the War». 1914-1918. 4. An Only Son. Редьярд Киплинг. «Эпитафии Войны». 1914-1918. 4. Единственный сын
Rudyard Kipling (Редьярд Киплинг) «Epitaphs of the War». 1914-1918. 4. An Only Son I have slain none except my Mother. She (Blessing her slayer) died of grief for me. Перевод на русский язык «Эпитафии Войны». 1914-1918. 4. Единственный сын Никого не убил я на этой Войне, […]
English Poetry. Rudyard Kipling. «Epitaphs of the War». 1914-1918. 30. Salonikan Grave. Редьярд Киплинг. «Эпитафии Войны». 1914-1918. 30. Могила в Салониках
Rudyard Kipling (Редьярд Киплинг) «Epitaphs of the War». 1914-1918. 30. Salonikan Grave I have watched a thousand days Push out and crawl into night Slowly as tortoises. Now I, too, follow these. It is fever, and not the fight— Time, not battle—that slays. Перевод на русский язык «Эпитафии […]