English Poetry. George Gordon Byron. Epigram. Джордж Гордон Байрон. Эпиграмма на Уильяма Коббета

George Gordon Byron (Джордж Гордон Байрон) Epigram In digging up your bones, Tom Paine, Will. Cobbett has done well: You visit him on earth again, He’ll visit you in hell. January 2, 1820 Перевод на русский язык Эпиграмма на Уильяма Коббета Твои, Том Пейн, он вырыл кости, Но, […]

English Poetry. Thomas Wyatt. In Spain. Томас Уайетт.

Thomas Wyatt (Томас Уайетт) In Spain Tagus, farewell! that westward with thy streams Turns up the grains of gold already tried With spur and sail, for I go to seek the Thames Gainward the sun that shewth her wealthy pride, And to the town which Brutus sought by […]

English Poetry. Wallace Stevens. Valley Candle. Уоллес Стивенс.

Wallace Stevens (Уоллес Стивенс) Valley Candle My candle burned alone in an immense valley. Beams of the huge night converged upon it, Until the wind blew. The beams of the huge night Converged upon its image, Until the wind blew. Wallace Stevens’s other poems: Nomad Exquisite Final […]

English Poetry. Hilda Doolittle. Orchard. Хильда Дулитл.

Hilda Doolittle (Хильда Дулитл) Orchard I saw the first pear as it fell– the honey-seeking, golden-banded, the yellow swarm was not more fleet than I, (spare us from loveliness) and I fell prostrate crying: you have flayed us with your blossoms, spare us the beauty of fruit-trees. […]

English Poetry. Hilda Doolittle. Adonis. Хильда Дулитл.

Hilda Doolittle (Хильда Дулитл) Adonis 1. Each of us like you has died once, has passed through drift of wood-leaves, cracked and bent and tortured and unbent in the winter-frost, the burnt into gold points, lighted afresh, crisp amber, scales of gold-leaf, gold turned and re-welded in […]

English Poetry. Hilda Doolittle. Pear Tree. Хильда Дулитл.

Hilda Doolittle (Хильда Дулитл) Pear Tree Silver dust lifted from the earth, higher than my arms reach, you have mounted. O silver, higher than my arms reach you front us with great mass; no flower ever opened so staunch a white leaf, no flower ever parted silver […]

English Poetry. Hilda Doolittle. At Baia. Хильда Дулитл.

Hilda Doolittle (Хильда Дулитл) At Baia I should have thought in a dream you would have brought some lovely, perilous thing, orchids piled in a great sheath, as who would say (in a dream), “I send you this, who left the blue veins of your throat unkissed.” […]

English Poetry. Hilda Doolittle. Oread. Хильда Дулитл. Ореада

Hilda Doolittle (Хильда Дулитл) Oread Whirl up, sea— Whirl your pointed pines. Splash your great pines On our rocks. Hurl your green over us— Cover us with your pools of fir. Перевод на русский язык Ореада Море, взвихрись, заверти свои остроконечные пинии, плесни […]