Английская поэзия XIV–XX веков в современных русских переводах - Антология
Yet by his manners you would guess,
That he his whole long life had spent
In scenes of country quietness.
His talk is all of things long past,
For modern facts no pleasure yield —
Of the famed year of forty-five,
Of William, and Culloden’s field.
The deeds of this eventful age,
Which princes from their thrones have hurled,
Can no more interest wake in him
Than stories of another world.
When I his length of days revolve,
How like a strong tree he hath stood,
It brings into my mind almost
Those patriarchs old before the flood.
Suffer Little Children, And Forbid Them Not, To Come Unto Me
To Jesus our Saviour some parents presented
Their children-what fears and what hopes they must feel!
When this the disciples would fain have prevented,
Our Saviour reproved their unseasonable zeal.
Not only free leave to come to him was given
But ’of such’ were the blessed words Christ our Lord spake,
‘Of such is composed the kingdom of heaven:’
The disciples, abashëd, perceived their mistake.
With joy then the parents their children brought nigher
And earnestly begged that his hands he would lay
On their heads; and they made a petition still higher,
That he for a blessing upon them would pray.
O happy young children, thus brought to adore him,
To kneel at his feet, and look up in his face;
No doubt now in heaven they still are before him,
Children still of his love, and enjoying his grace.
For being so blest as to come to our Saviour,
How deep in their innocent hearts it must sink!
’Twas a visit divine; a most holy behaviour
Must flow from that spring of which then they did drink.
Queen Oriana’s Dream
On a bank with roses shaded,
Whose sweet scent the violets aided,
Violets whose breath alone
Yields but feeble smell or none,
(Sweeter bed Jove ne’er repos’d on
When his eyes Olympus closed on,)
While o’er head six slaves did hold
Canopy of cloth o’ gold,
And two more did music keep,
Which might Juno lull to sleep,
Oriana who was queen
To the mighty Tamerlane,
That was lord of all the land
Between Thrace and Samarchand,
While the noon-tide fervor beam’d,
Mused herself to sleep, and dream’d.
Thus far, in magnific strain,
A young poet sooth’d his vein,
But he had nor prose nor numbers
To express a princess’ slumbers. —
Youthful Richard had strange fancies,
Was deep versed in old romances,
And could talk whole hours upon
The great Cham and Prester John, —
Tell the field in which the Sophi
From the Tartar won a trophy —
What he read with such delight of,
Thought he could as eas’ly write of —
But his over-young invention
Kept not pace with brave intention.
Twenty suns did rise and set,
And he could no further get;
But, unable to proceed,
Made a virtue out of need,
And, his labours wiselier deem’d of,
Did omit what the queen dream’d of.
Чарльз Лэм (1775–1834)
Дорогие лица
В дни детства, в дни весёлого школярства
С товарищами был я неразлучен,
Ушли, ушли все дорогие лица.
Смеялся я, шалил и куролесил
В ночных пирах с гуляками-дружками,
Ушли, ушли все дорогие лица.
Любил я прежде лучшую из женщин;
Но для меня её закрылись двери —
Ушли, ушли все дорогие лица.
Есть у меня добрейший друг на свете;
Его оставил я, неблагодарный,
Дав повод вспомнить дорогие лица.
Брожу, как призрак, средь обломков детства.
Земля мне — как пустыня, где вотще
Найти пытаюсь дорогие лица.
Сердечный друг, ты мне дороже брата,
Зачем мой отчий дом своим не звал ты?
О дорогих мы б говорили лицах —
Те опочили, теми я покинут,
А с теми разлучён; но все исчезли;
Ушли, ушли все дорогие лица.
Перевод В. Ослона
Эстер
Когда уносит смерть таких,
Как Эстер, кто заменит их?
Ведь ей из тысяч дев других
Не сыщешь равной.
Уж месяц нет ее меж нас,
А я не в силах всякий раз
Представить, что она сейчас
В могиле смрадной.
Ее упругий легкий шаг
И горд, и радостен был так,
Как у немногих — верный знак
Ума живого.
Не знаю, как еще назвать,
Если не гордой эту стать,
Где вместо радости сыскать
Другое слово?
Заветы квакеров блюла
Семья, где Эстер возросла,
Но школой чувства ей была
Природы школа.
Открытый взор, сердечный жар —
Все ей несла природа в дар.
Зачем же, Эстер, этот дар
Увял так скоро?
Соседка резвая моя!
Ты, что в безвестные края
Ушла, ужель с тобою я,
Как прошлым летом,
Не встречусь утренней порой,
Когда мне взгляд лучистый твой
Сиял небесной синевой
И счастья светом?
Перевод М. Фрейдкина
