English Poetry. William Barnes. Second Collection. Culver Dell and the Squire. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Second Collection. Culver Dell and the Squire There’s noo pleäce I do like so well, As Elem Knap in Culver Dell, Where timber trees, wi’ lofty shouds, Did rise avore the western clouds; An’ stan’ ageän, wi’ veathery tops, A-swaÿèn up in North-Hill Copse. […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Second Collection. The Wold vo’k Dead. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Second Collection. The Wold vo’k Dead My days, wi’ wold vo’k all but gone, An’ childern now a-comèn on, Do bring me still my mother’s smiles In light that now do show my chile’s; An’ I’ve a-sheär’d the wold vo’ks’ me’th, Avore the burnèn […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Second Collection. The Lovely Maïd ov Elwell Meäd. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Second Collection. The Lovely Maïd ov Elwell Meäd A maïd wi’ many gifts o’ greäce, A maïd wi’ ever-smilèn feäce, A child o’ yours my chilhood’s pleäce, O leänèn lawns ov Allen; ’S a-walkèn where your stream do flow, A-blushèn where your flowers do […]
English Poetry. Oscar Wilde. Ave Imperatrix. Оскар Уайльд. Ave Imperatrix
Oscar Wilde (Оскар Уайльд) Ave Imperatrix SET in this stormy Northern sea, Queen of these restless fields of tide, England! what shall men say of thee, Before whose feet the worlds divide? The earth, a brittle globe of glass, Lies in the hollow of thy hand, And […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Second Collection. Mindèn House. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Second Collection. Mindèn House ’Twer when the vo’k wer out to hawl A vield o’ haÿ a day in June, An’ when the zun begun to vall Toward the west in afternoon, Woone only wer a-left behind To bide indoors, at hwome, an’ mind […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Second Collection. The Scud. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Second Collection. The Scud Aye, aye, the leäne wi’ flow’ry zides A-kept so lew, by hazzle-wrides, Wi’ beds o’ grægles out in bloom, Below the timber’s windless gloon An’ geäte that I’ve a-swung, An’ rod as he’s a-hung, When I wer young, in Woakley […]
English Poetry. William Lisle Bowles. Elegy Written at the Hot-Wells, Bristol. Уильям Лайл Боулз.
William Lisle Bowles (Уильям Лайл Боулз) Elegy Written at the Hot-Wells, Bristol The morning wakes in shadowy mantle grey, The darksome woods their glimmering skirts unfold; Prone from the cliff the falcon wheels her way, And long and loud the bell’s slow chime is toll’d. Now gains […]
English Poetry. William Lisle Bowles. Sonnet 11. Written at Ostend. Уильям Лайл Боулз.
William Lisle Bowles (Уильям Лайл Боулз) Sonnet 11. Written at Ostend How sweet the tuneful bells’ responsive peal! As when, at opening morn, the fragrant breeze Breathes on the trembling sense of wan disease, So piercing to my heart their form I feel! And hark! with lessening cadence […]
English Poetry. William Lisle Bowles. Sonnet 7. At a Village in Scotland. Уильям Лайл Боулз.
William Lisle Bowles (Уильям Лайл Боулз) Sonnet 7. At a Village in Scotland O North! as thy romantick vales I leave, And bid farewell to each retiring hill, Where thoughtful fancy seems to linger still, Tracing the broad bright landscape; much I grieve That mingled with the toiling […]
English Poetry. William Lisle Bowles. Sonnet 2. Written at Bamborough Castle. Уильям Лайл Боулз.
William Lisle Bowles (Уильям Лайл Боулз) Sonnet 2. Written at Bamborough Castle Ye holy tow’rs, that crown the azure deep, Still may ye shade the wave-worn rock sublime, Though, hurrying silent by, relentless Time Assail you, and the winter Whirlwind’s sweep! For far from blazing Grandeur’s crouded halls, […]
English Poetry. Robert Burns. «There’ll Never be Peace till Jamie Comes Hame…». Роберт Бернс. «Без Джеми в Шотландию мир не придёт!..»
Robert Burns (Роберт Бернс) «There’ll Never be Peace till Jamie Comes Hame…» By yon castle wa’, at the close of the day, I heard a man sing, tho’ his head it was grey: And as he was singing, the tears down came – There’ll never be peace till […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Third Collection. Tweil. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Third Collection. Tweil The rick ov our last zummer’s haulèn Now vrom grey’s a-feäded dark, An’ off the barken raïl’s a-vallèn, Day by day, the rottèn bark.— But short’s the time our works do stand, So feäir’s we put em out ov hand. Vor […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Third Collection. The Pillar’d Geäte. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Third Collection. The Pillar’d Geäte As I come by, zome years agoo, A-burnt below a sky o’ blue, ’Ithin the pillar’ d geäte there zung A vaïce a-soundèn sweet an’ young, That meäde me veel awhile to zwim In weäves o’ jaÿ to hear […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Third Collection. Good Night. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Third Collection. Good Night While down the meäds wound slow, Water vor green-wheel’d mills, Over the streams bright bow, Win’ come vrom dark-back’d hills. Birds on the win’ shot along down steep Slopes, wi’ a swift-swung zweep. Dim weän’d the red streak’d west. Lim’-weary […]
English Poetry. Thomas Wyatt. Since so Ye Please. Томас Уайетт.
Thomas Wyatt (Томас Уайетт) * * * Since so ye please to hear me plain, And that ye do rejoice my smart, Me list no lenger to remain To such as be so overthwart. But cursed be that cruel heart Which hath procur’d a careless mind For […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Third Collection. Pickèn o’ Scroff. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Third Collection. Pickèn o’ Scroff Oh! the wood wer a-vell’d in the copse, An’ the moss-bedded primrwose did blow; An’ vrom tall-stemmèd trees’ leafless tops, There did lie but slight sheädes down below. An’ the sky wer a-showèn, in drough By the tree-stems, the […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Second Collection. Faïr Emily of Yarrow Mill. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Second Collection. Faïr Emily of Yarrow Mill Dear Yarrowham, ’twer many miles Vrom thy green meäds that, in my walk, I met a maïd wi’ winnèn smiles, That talk’d as vo’k at hwome do talk; An’ who at last should she be vound, Ov […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Second Collection. The Stwonèn Bwoy upon the Pillar. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Second Collection. The Stwonèn Bwoy upon the Pillar Wi’ smokeless tuns an’ empty halls, An’ moss a-clingèn to the walls, In ev’ry wind the lofty tow’rs Do teäke the zun, an’ bear the show’rs; An’ there, ’ithin a geät a-hung, But vasten’d up, an’ […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Second Collection. Meäry Wedded. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Second Collection. Meäry Wedded The zun can zink, the stars mid rise, An’ woods be green to sheenèn skies; The cock mid crow to mornèn light, An’ workvo’k zing to vallèn night; The birds mid whissle on the spraÿ, An’ childern leäp in merry […]
English Poetry. William Lisle Bowles. Sonnet 13. O Time!. Уильям Лайл Боулз.
William Lisle Bowles (Уильям Лайл Боулз) Sonnet 13. O Time! O Time! who know’st a lenient hand to lay Softest on sorrow’s wound, and slowly thence, (Lulling to sad repose the weary sense) Stealest the long-forgotten pan away; On Thee I rest my only hope at last, And […]
English Poetry. William Lisle Bowles. To a Friend. Уильям Лайл Боулз.
William Lisle Bowles (Уильям Лайл Боулз) To a Friend Go, then, and join the murmuring city’s throng! Me thou dost leave to solitude and tears; To busy phantasies, and boding fears, Lest ill betide thee; but ‘t will not be long Ere the hard season shall be past; […]
English Poetry. William Lisle Bowles. Sonnet 9. O Poverty!. Уильям Лайл Боулз.
William Lisle Bowles (Уильям Лайл Боулз) Sonnet 9. O Poverty! O Poverty! though from thy haggard eye, Thy cheerless mein, of every charm bereft. Thy brow, that hope’s last traces long have left, Vain Fortune’s feeble sons with terror fly; Thy rugged paths with pleasure I attend;— For […]
English Poetry. William Lisle Bowles. Netley Abbey. Уильям Лайл Боулз.
William Lisle Bowles (Уильям Лайл Боулз) Netley Abbey Fallen pile! I ask not what has been thy fate; But when the winds, slow wafted from the main, Through each rent arch, like spirits that complain, Come hollow to my ear, I meditate On this world’s passing pageant, and […]
English Poetry. William Lisle Bowles. Sonnet 4. To the River Wenbeck. Уильям Лайл Боулз.
William Lisle Bowles (Уильям Лайл Боулз) Sonnet 4. To the River Wenbeck As slowly wanders thy forsaken stream, WENBECK! the mossy-scatter’d rocks among, In fancy’s ear still making plaintive song To the dark woods above: ah! sure I seem To meet some friendly Genius in the gloom, And […]
English Poetry. William Lisle Bowles. In Youth. Уильям Лайл Боулз.
William Lisle Bowles (Уильям Лайл Боулз) In Youth Milton, our noblest poet, in the grace Of youth, in those fair eyes and clustering hair, That brow untouched by one faint line of care, To mar its openness, we seem to trace The front of the first lord of […]
English Poetry. Thomas Wyatt. Unstable Dream. Томас Уайетт.
Thomas Wyatt (Томас Уайетт) Unstable Dream Unstable dream, according to the place, Be steadfast once, or else at least be true. By tasted sweetness make me not to rue The sudden loss of thy false feignèd grace. By good respect in such a dangerous case Thou broughtest not […]
English Poetry. William Lisle Bowles. On the Funeral of Charles the First at Night, in St. George’s Chapel, Windsor. Уильям Лайл Боулз.
William Lisle Bowles (Уильям Лайл Боулз) On the Funeral of Charles the First at Night, in St. George’s Chapel, Windsor The castle clock had tolled midnight: With mattock and with spade, And silent, by the torches’ light, His corse in earth we laid. The coffin bore his […]
English Poetry. William Lisle Bowles. Bereavement. Уильям Лайл Боулз.
William Lisle Bowles (Уильям Лайл Боулз) Bereavement Whose was that gentle voice, that, whispering sweet, Promised methought long days of bliss sincere! Soothing it stole on my deluded ear, Most like soft music, that might sometimes cheat Thoughts dark and drooping! ’Twas the voice of Hope. Of love […]
English Poetry. Robert Burns. Does Haughty Gaul. Роберт Бернс. Дамфризские волонтёры
Robert Burns (Роберт Бернс) Does Haughty Gaul Does haughty Gaul invasion threat? Then let the loons beware, Sir, There’s wooden walls upon our seas, And volunteers on shore, Sir. The Nith shall run to Corsincon, And Criffel sink in Solway, Ere we permit a foreign foe On British […]
English Poetry. Robert Burns. Landlady, Count the Lawin. Роберт Бернс. «Хозяйка, счёт скорей неси…»
Robert Burns (Роберт Бернс) * * * Landlady, count the lawin, The day is near the dawin; Ye’re a’ blind drunk, boys, And I’m but jolly fou. Hey tutti, taiti, How tutti, taiti – Wha ’s fou now? Cog, an’ ye were aye fou, Cog, an’ ye […]
English Poetry. Sylvia Plath. Lady Lazarus. Сильвия Плат. Леди Лазарь
Sylvia Plath (Сильвия Плат) Lady Lazarus I have done it again. One year in every ten I manage it—— A sort of walking miracle, my skin Bright as a Nazi lampshade, My right foot A paperweight, My face a featureless, fine […]
English Poetry. Wallace Stevens. Peter Quince at the Clavier. Уоллес Стивенс.
Wallace Stevens (Уоллес Стивенс) Peter Quince at the Clavier I Just as my fingers on these keys Make music, so the self-same sounds On my spirit make a music, too. Music is feeling, then, not sound; And thus it is that what I feel, Here in this […]
English Poetry. Wallace Stevens. Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird. Уоллес Стивенс. Тринадцать способов видеть черного дрозда
Wallace Stevens (Уоллес Стивенс) Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird I Among twenty snowy mountains, The only moving thing Was the eye of the black bird. II I was of three minds, Like a tree In which there are three blackbirds. III […]
English Poetry. Wallace Stevens. The Sense of the Sleight-Of-Hand Man. Уоллес Стивенс.
Wallace Stevens (Уоллес Стивенс) The Sense of the Sleight-Of-Hand Man One’s grand flights, one’s Sunday baths, One’s tootings at the weddings of the soul Occur as they occur. So bluish clouds Occurred above the empty house and the leaves Of the rhododendrons rattled their gold, As if someone […]
English Poetry. Wallace Stevens. The Plot against the Giant. Уоллес Стивенс.
Wallace Stevens (Уоллес Стивенс) The Plot against the Giant First Girl When this yokel comes maundering, Whetting his hacker, I shall run before him, Diffusing the civilest odors Out of geraniums and unsmelled flowers. It will check him. Second Girl I shall run before him, Arching cloths […]
English Poetry. Wallace Stevens. Gray Room. Уоллес Стивенс.
Wallace Stevens (Уоллес Стивенс) Gray Room Although you sit in a room that is gray, Except for the silver Of the straw-paper, And pick At your pale white gown; Or lift one of the green beads Of your necklace, To let it fall; Or gaze at your […]
English Poetry. Thomas Wyatt. Ye Old Mule. Томас Уайетт.
Thomas Wyatt (Томас Уайетт) Ye Old Mule Ye old mule that think yourself so fair, Leave off with craft your beauty to repair, For it is true, without any fable, No man setteth more by riding in your saddle. Too much travail so do your train appair. Ye […]
English Poetry. Wallace Stevens. Not Ideas about the Thing but the Thing Itself. Уоллес Стивенс.
Wallace Stevens (Уоллес Стивенс) Not Ideas about the Thing but the Thing Itself At the earliest ending of winter, In March, a scrawny cry from outside Seemed like a sound in his mind. He knew that he heard it, A bird’s cry, at daylight or before, In […]
English Poetry. Wallace Stevens. A Postcard from the Volcano. Уоллес Стивенс. Открытка из вулкана
Wallace Stevens (Уоллес Стивенс) A Postcard from the Volcano Children picking up our bones Will never know that these were once As quick as foxes on the hill; And that in autumn, when the grapes Made sharp air sharper by their smell These had a being, breathing […]
English Poetry. Wallace Stevens. A High-Toned Old Christian Woman. Уоллес Стивенс.
Wallace Stevens (Уоллес Стивенс) A High-Toned Old Christian Woman Poetry is the supreme fiction, madame. Take the moral law and make a nave of it And from the nave build haunted heaven. Thus, The conscience is converted into palms, Like windy citherns hankering for hymns. We agree […]