English Poetry. Joseph Warton. On Dr. Balguy Preaching a Sermon on the Text, “Wisdom Is Sorrow”. Джозеф Уортон. На доктора Бо́лги, который прочёл проповедь на тему «Во многой мудрости много печали»

Joseph Warton (Джозеф Уортон) On Dr. Balguy Preaching a Sermon on the Text, “Wisdom Is Sorrow” If what you advance, my dear Doctor, be true, That wisdom is sorrow how wretched are you! Перевод на русский язык На доктора Бо́лги, который прочёл проповедь на тему «Во многой мудрости […]

English Poetry. William Morris. The Woodpecker. Уильям Моррис.

William Morris (Уильям Моррис) The Woodpecker I once a King and chief Now am the tree-bark’s thief, Ever ’twixt trunk and leaf Chasing the prey. William Morris’s other poems: The Son’s Sorrow All For The Cause The Flowering Orchard Pain And Time Strive Not The Voice Of Toil […]

English Poetry. William Morris. Autumn. Уильям Моррис.

William Morris (Уильям Моррис) Autumn Laden Autumn here I stand Worn of heart, and weak of hand: Nought but rest seems good to me, Speak the word that sets me free. William Morris’s other poems: The Son’s Sorrow The Flowering Orchard All For The Cause Pain And Time […]

English Poetry. Eleanor Farjeon. Pan-Worship. Элинор Фарджон.

Eleanor Farjeon (Элинор Фарджон) Pan-Worship In Arcady there lies a crystal spring Ring’d all about with green melodious reeds Swaying seal’d music up and down the wind. Here on its time-defacèd pedestal The image of a half-forgotten God Crumbles to its complete oblivion. The faithful and invariable earth […]

English Poetry. William Morris. March. Уильям Моррис.

William Morris (Уильям Моррис) March Slayer of the winter, art thou here again? O welcome, thou that’s bring’st the summer nigh! The bitter wind makes not thy victory vain, Nor will we mock thee for thy faint blue sky. Welcome, O March! whose kindly days and dry Make […]

English Poetry. Thomas MacDonagh. In an Island. Томас Макдона.

Thomas MacDonagh (Томас Макдона) In an Island ‘Mid an isle I stand, Under its only tree: The ocean around– Around life eternity: ‘Mid my life I stand, Under the boughs of thee. Thomas MacDonagh’s other poems: Isn’t It Pleasant for the Little Birds To James Clarence Mangan A […]

English Poetry. Thomas MacDonagh. Cormac Óg. Томас Макдона.

Thomas MacDonagh (Томас Макдона) Cormac Óg At home the doves are sporting, the Summer is nigh– Oh, blossoms of April set in the crowns of the trees!– On the streams the cresses, clustering, knotted, lie, And the hives are bursting with spoil of the honey bees. Rich […]