English Poetry. Eleanor Farjeon. Sonnets. 5. When all is said, we can but turn our eyes. Элинор Фарджон.
Eleanor Farjeon (Элинор Фарджон) Sonnets. 5. When all is said, we can but turn our eyes When all is said, we can but turn our eyes In helplessness on the miraculous heart And secretly dream opportunities That shall its untried force in motion start; But life that launched […]
English Poetry. Alan Alexander Milne. The King’s Breakfast. Алан Александр Милн. Баллада о королевском бутерброде
Alan Alexander Milne (Алан Александр Милн) The King’s Breakfast The King asked The Queen, and The Queen asked The Dairymaid: “Could we have some butter for The Royal slice of bread?” The Queen asked the Dairymaid, The Dairymaid Said, “Certainly, I’ll go and tell the cow Now Before […]
English Poetry. William Blake. The Wild Flower’s Song. Уильям Блейк. Песня дикого цветка
William Blake (Уильям Блейк) The Wild Flower’s Song As I wandered the forest, The green leaves among, I heard a Wild Flower Singing a song. ‘I slept in the earth In the silent night, I murmured my fears And I felt delight. ‘In the morning I […]
English Poetry. Eleanor Farjeon. Sonnets. 16. O lovely life, how you have worn me out. Элинор Фарджон.
Eleanor Farjeon (Элинор Фарджон) Sonnets. 16. O lovely life, how you have worn me out O lovely life, how you have worn me out With asking naught and leaving me at large, Till my unmeasured strength begins to doubt If it could answer now your lightest charge. I […]
English Poetry. Eleanor Farjeon. Sonnets. 12. I hear love answer: Since within the mesh. Элинор Фарджон.
Eleanor Farjeon (Элинор Фарджон) Sonnets. 12. I hear love answer: Since within the mesh I hear love answer: Since within the mesh Of blood and flesh you labour for awhile, I, even I, must use you in the flesh, Leavening it of all the world calls vile. I […]
English Poetry. Eleanor Farjeon. Sonnets. 7. When I see two delay their wings at heaven. Элинор Фарджон.
Eleanor Farjeon (Элинор Фарджон) Sonnets. 7. When I see two delay their wings at heaven When I see two delay their wings at heaven To scan the creeping audience of the earth, I think the angelic hosts of life must even Break into tears of fire or furious […]
English Poetry. William Vaughn Moody. The Ride Back. Уильям Воэн Муди.
William Vaughn Moody (Уильям Воэн Муди) The Ride Back Before the coming of the dark, he dreamed An old-world faded story: of a knight, Much like in need to him, who was no knight! And of a road, much like the road his soul Groped over, desperate to […]
English Poetry. William Vaughn Moody. Faded Pictures. Уильям Воэн Муди.
William Vaughn Moody (Уильям Воэн Муди) Faded Pictures Only two patient eyes to stare Out of the canvas. All the rest– The warm green gown, the small hands pressed Light in the lap, the braided hair That must have made the sweet low brow So earnest, centuries […]
English Poetry. William Vaughn Moody. The Bracelet of Grass. Уильям Воэн Муди.
William Vaughn Moody (Уильям Воэн Муди) The Bracelet of Grass The opal heart of afternoon Was clouding on to throbs of storm, Ashen within the ardent west The lips of thunder muttered harm, And as a bubble like to break Hung heaven’s trembling amethyst, When with the sedge-grass […]
English Poetry. Charles Hamilton Sorley. Marlborough. Чарльз Сорли.
Charles Hamilton Sorley (Чарльз Сорли) Marlborough I Crouched where the open upland billows down Into the valley where the river flows, She is as any other country town, That little lives or marks or hears or knows. And she can teach but little. She has not […]
English Poetry. Eugene Field. The Great Journalist in Spain. Юджин Филд.
Eugene Field (Юджин Филд) The Great Journalist in Spain Good editor Dana—God bless him, we say— Will soon be afloat on the main, Will be steaming away Through the mist and the spray To the sensuous climate of Spain. Strange sights shall he see in that beautiful […]
English Poetry. Eugene Field. To Emma Abbott. Юджин Филд.
Eugene Field (Юджин Филд) To Emma Abbott There—let thy hands be folded Awhile in sleep’s repose; The patient hands that wearied not, But earnestly and nobly wrought In charity and faith; And let thy dear eyes close— The eyes that looked alway to God, Nor quailed beneath the […]
English Poetry. Eugene Field. Jessie. Юджин Филд.
Eugene Field (Юджин Филд) Jessie When I remark her golden hair Swoon on her glorious shoulders, I marvel not that sight so rare Doth ravish all beholders; For summon hence all pretty girls Renowned for beauteous tresses, And you shall find among their curls There’s none so fair […]
English Poetry. Alan Alexander Milne. Waiting At The Window. Алан Александр Милн. У окна
Alan Alexander Milne (Алан Александр Милн) Waiting At The Window These are my two drops of rain Waiting on the window-pane. I am waiting here to see Which the winning one will be. Both of them have different names. One is John and one is James. […]
English Poetry. Eugene Field. Mary Smith. Юджин Филд.
Eugene Field (Юджин Филд) Mary Smith Away down East where I was reared amongst my Yankee kith, There used to live a pretty girl whose name was Mary Smith; And though it’s many years since last I saw that pretty girl, And though I feel I’m sadly worn […]
English Poetry. Thomas Freeman. In Virtutem. Томас Фриман. О добродетели
Thomas Freeman (Томас Фриман) In Virtutem Virtue we praise, but practise not her good, (Athenian-like) we act not what we know. So many men do talk of Robin Hood Who never yet shot arrow from his bow. Перевод на русский язык О добродетели О […]
English Poetry. Richard Barnfield. On Drake. Ричард Барнфилд. Зпитафия на могилу сэра Фрэнсиса Дрейка
Richard Barnfield (Ричард Барнфилд) On Drake England his heart; his corpse the waters have: And that which raised his fame, became his grave. Перевод на русский язык Зпитафия на могилу сэра Фрэнсиса Дрейка Англия – Сердце его и душа; Море – Останки его поглотило. В море Он славу […]
English Poetry. Ben Jonson. To Fool, or Knave. Бен Джонсон. «Пусть он имечко моё…»
Ben Jonson (Бен Джонсон) To Fool, or Knave Thy Praise, or Dispraise is to me alike; One doth not Stroke me, nor the other Strike. Перевод на русский язык «Пусть он имечко моё…» Пусть он имечко моё Треплет, Пусть с любовью на меня Дышит, Первое – Меня […]
English Poetry. William Ernest Henley. Echoes. 3. O, Gather Me the Rose. Уильям Эрнст Хенли.
William Ernest Henley (Уильям Эрнст Хенли) Echoes. 3. O, Gather Me the Rose O, gather me the rose, the rose, While yet in flower we find it, For summer smiles, but summer goes, And winter waits behind it! For with the dream foregone, foregone, The deed forborne […]
English Poetry. William Ernest Henley. Echoes. 1. To My Mother. Уильям Эрнст Хенли.
William Ernest Henley (Уильям Эрнст Хенли) Echoes. 1. To My Mother Chiming a dream by the way With ocean’s rapture and roar, I met a maiden to-day Walking alone on the shore: Walking in maiden wise, Modest and kind and fair, The freshness of spring in her eyes […]
English Poetry. William Ernest Henley. Beside the Idle Summer Sea. Уильям Эрнст Хенли.
William Ernest Henley (Уильям Эрнст Хенли) * * * Beside the idle summer sea And in the vacant summer days, Light Love came fluting down the ways, Where you were loitering with me. Who has not welcomed, even as we, That jocund minstrel and his lays Beside […]
English Poetry. William Ernest Henley. The Gods are Dead. Уильям Эрнст Хенли.
William Ernest Henley (Уильям Эрнст Хенли) The Gods are Dead The gods are dead? Perhaps they are! Who knows? Living at least in Lemprière undeleted, The wise, the fair, the awful, the jocose, Are one and all, I like to think, retreated In some still land of lilacs […]
English Poetry. William Ernest Henley. In the Dials. Уильям Эрнст Хенли.
William Ernest Henley (Уильям Эрнст Хенли) In the Dials To Garryowen upon an organ ground Two girls are jigging. Riotously they trip, With eyes aflame, quick bosoms, hand on hip, As in the tumult of a witches’ round. Youngsters and youngsters round them prance and bound. Two solemn […]
English Poetry. William Ernest Henley. Attadale, West Highlands. Уильям Эрнст Хенли.
William Ernest Henley (Уильям Эрнст Хенли) Attadale, West Highlands To A. J. A black and glassy float, opaque and still, The loch, at furthest ebb supine in sleep, Reversing, mirrored in its luminous deep The calm grey skies; the solemn spurs of hill; Heather, and corn, and […]
English Poetry. William Shakespeare. Sonnet 123. No! Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change. Уильям Шекспир. Сонет 123. Не хвастай, время, властью надо мной
William Shakespeare (Уильям Шекспир) Sonnet 123. No! Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change No! Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change, Thy pyramids built up with newer might To me are nothing novel, nothing strange, They are but dressings Of a former sight: […]
English Poetry. William Ernest Henley. Orientale. Уильям Эрнст Хенли.
William Ernest Henley (Уильям Эрнст Хенли) Orientale She’s an enchanting little Israelite, A world of hidden dimples!—Dusky-eyed, A starry-glancing daughter of the Bride, With hair escaped from some Arabian Night, Her lip is red, her cheek is golden-white, Her nose a scimitar; and, set aside The bamboo hat […]
English Poetry. William Ernest Henley. Double Ballade of Life and Death. Уильям Эрнст Хенли.
William Ernest Henley (Уильям Эрнст Хенли) Double Ballade of Life and Death Fools may pine, and sots may swill, Cynics gibe, and prophets rail, Moralists may scourge and drill, Preachers prose, and fainthearts quail. Let them whine, or threat, or wail! Till the touch of Circumstance Down to […]
English Poetry. William Ernest Henley. Ballade of Truisms. Уильям Эрнст Хенли.
William Ernest Henley (Уильям Эрнст Хенли) Ballade of Truisms Gold or silver, every day, Dies to gray. There are knots in every skein. Hours of work and hours of play Fade away Into one immense Inane. Shadow and substance, chaff and grain, Are as vain As the foam […]
МЫ СО СМЕРТЬЮ НЕ ИГРАЕМ
МЫ СО СМЕРТЬЮ НЕ ИГРАЕМ “Щэ нэ вмэрла Украина”, “Ещэ Польска не сгинела”, Но Россия петь не будет “Я ещё не умерла!” Эта разница – такого необъятного размера, Как небесная улыбка лучезарного тепла! Эта разница бездонна, эта разница интимна, Тайна гимна так взаимна, что влияет на судьбу, – У России быть не может никогда такого […]
Цвет Которого В Мире Нет
Художники Мешают Краски. А Эти Краски Даю Им Я. Если Я Буду Молчать. Поэты Перестанут Писать. Этому Миру Я Подарил Новый Цвет. Которого В Мире Нет. Этим Цветом Я Сам И Являюсь. Теперь Взяв В Руки Кисть. Художник Нарисует Живопись. До Бесконечности Переплетаясь. Этим Самым Во Всём Мире. Люди Будут Видеть Всё Шире И Шире. […]
English Poetry. William Ernest Henley. Ballade Made in the Hot Weather. Уильям Эрнст Хенли.
William Ernest Henley (Уильям Эрнст Хенли) Ballade Made in the Hot Weather To C. M. Fountains that frisk and sprinkle The moss they overspill; Pools that the breezes crinkle; The wheel beside the mill, With its wet, weedy frill; Wind-shadows in the wheat; A water-cart in the […]
English Poetry. James Shirley. To His Mistres Confined. Джеймс Шерли. Любимой женщине, прикованной к постели
James Shirley (Джеймс Шерли) To His Mistres Confined Think not my Phebe, cause a cloud Doth now thy heavenly beauty shroud, My wandring eye Can stoop to common beauties of the sky, Be thou but kind, and this Eclipse Shall neither hinder eyes, nor lips; For we will […]
English Poetry. William Schwenck Gilbert. The Bab Ballads. Thomas Winterbottom Hance. Уильям Швенк Гильберт.
William Schwenck Gilbert (Уильям Швенк Гильберт) The Bab Ballads. Thomas Winterbottom Hance In all the towns and cities fair On Merry England’s broad expanse, No swordsman ever could compare With Thomas Winterbottom Hance. The dauntless lad could fairly hew A silken handkerchief in twain, Divide a leg […]
English Poetry. William Schwenck Gilbert. The Bab Ballads. The Phantom Curate. Уильям Швенк Гильберт.
William Schwenck Gilbert (Уильям Швенк Гильберт) The Bab Ballads. The Phantom Curate A FABLE A BISHOP once—I will not name his see— Annoyed his clergy in the mode conventional; From pulpit shackles never set them free, And found a sin where sin was unintentional. All pleasures ended […]
English Poetry. William Schwenck Gilbert. The Bab Ballads. Baines Carew, Gentleman. Уильям Швенк Гильберт.
William Schwenck Gilbert (Уильям Швенк Гильберт) The Bab Ballads. Baines Carew, Gentleman Of all the good attorneys who Have placed their names upon the roll, But few could equal Baines Carew For tender-heartedness and soul. Whene’er he heard a tale of woe From client A or client […]
English Poetry. William Schwenck Gilbert. The Bab Ballads. The Precocious Baby. Уильям Швенк Гильберт.
William Schwenck Gilbert (Уильям Швенк Гильберт) The Bab Ballads. The Precocious Baby A VERY TRUE TALE (To be sung to the Air of the “Whistling Oyster.”) An elderly person—a prophet by trade— With his quips and tips On withered old lips, He married a young and […]
English Poetry. William Schwenck Gilbert. The Bab Ballads. The Bishop of Rum-ti-Foo. Уильям Швенк Гильберт.
William Schwenck Gilbert (Уильям Швенк Гильберт) The Bab Ballads. The Bishop of Rum-ti-Foo From east and south the holy clan Of Bishops gathered to a man; To Synod, called Pan-Anglican, In flocking crowds they came. Among them was a Bishop, who Had lately been appointed to The balmy […]
English Poetry. George Meredith. King Harald’s Trance. Джордж Мередит.
George Meredith (Джордж Мередит) King Harald’s Trance I Sword in length a reaping-hook amain Harald sheared his field, blood up to shank: ‘Mid the swathes of slain, First at moonrise drank. II Thereof hunger, as for meats the knife, Pricked his ribs, in one sharp […]
English Poetry. Anne Hunter. To My Son, Age 15, at Cambridge. Энн Хантер.
Anne Hunter (Энн Хантер) To My Son, Age 15, at Cambridge NOW twice the spring, with flowrets gay, Hath ‘broider’d o’er her mantle green, And twice the merry month of May With hawthorn deck’d the vernal scene, Since I in tuneful numbers hail’d the morn When thou, my […]
English Poetry. Anne Hunter. Addressed to Mrs. G.. Энн Хантер.
Anne Hunter (Энн Хантер) Addressed to Mrs. G. OF THE PRIORY, CORNWALL. WHEN the awaken’d soul receives The first impression fancy gives, Temper’d by soft affection’s reign, Sweet are the days of pleasing pain. But, ah ! they fly, fly never to return, And leave the aching […]