English Poetry. Charlotte Turner Smith. Evening. Шарлотта Смит.

Charlotte Turner Smith (Шарлотта Смит) Evening OH! soothing hour, when glowing day, Low in the western wave declines, And village murmurs die away, And bright the vesper planet shines; I love to hear the gale of Even Breathing along the new-leaf’d copse, And feel the freshening dew of […]

English Poetry. Charlotte Turner Smith. Apostrophe. Шарлотта Смит.

Charlotte Turner Smith (Шарлотта Смит) Apostrophe To an old tree WHERE thy broad branches brave the bitter North, Like rugged, indigent, unheeded, worth, Lo! Vegetation’s guardian hands emboss Each giant limb with fronds of studded moss, That clothes the bark in many a fringed fold Begemm’d with […]

English Poetry. Mary Hobson. The Crowd. Мэри Хобсон. Толпа

Mary Hobson (Мэри Хобсон) The Crowd Nothing can stale its infinite variety. Stand by the barrier and you’ll see a woman struggling home ome chip-board in a carrier, teenagers phoning, a man with several children, moaning, the whole great thriving, skiving, late-arriving, heaving, thieving, grieving, wife deceiving, […]

English Poetry. John Coakley Lettsom. On Dr. Lettsom, by Himself. Джон Коукли Леттсом. Эпиграмма на доктора Леттсома, сочинённая им самим

John Coakley Lettsom (Джон Коукли Леттсом) On Dr. Lettsom, by Himself When people ’s ill, they comes to I, I physics, bleeds, and sweats ’em; Sometimes they live, sometimes they die. What’s that to I? I lets ’em. Перевод на русский язык Эпиграмма на доктора Леттсома, сочинённая […]

English Poetry. Henry Petty-Fitzmaurice Lansdowne. Chloe. Генри Петти-Фицморис Ланздаун. Ты и прекрасна, словно день…

Henry Petty-Fitzmaurice Lansdowne (Генри Петти-Фицморис Ланздаун) Chloe Bright as the day, and like the morning fair, Such Chloe is – and common as the air. Перевод на русский язык Ты и прекрасна, словно день… Ты и прекрасна, словно день, и, словно воздух, ты свежа, И, словно воздух, […]

English Poetry. Keith Douglas. Desert Flowers. Кит Дуглас.

Keith Douglas (Кит Дуглас) Desert Flowers Living in a wide landscape are the flowers - Rosenberg I only repeat what you were saying - the shell and the hawk every hour are slaying men and jerboas, slaying the mind: but the body can fill the hungry flowers and […]