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Robert Frost «Wind and Window Flower»

Tania-Soleil Journal Опубликовано автором

Стихотворение американского поэта Роберта Ли Фроста (1874 – 1963) «Ветер и цветок на окне» (Баллада о герани и буране) на английском и русском языках. Wind and Window Flower Lovers, forget your love, And list to the love of these, She a window flower, And he a winter breeze. When the frosty window veil Was melted down at noon, And the cagèd yellow bird Hung over her in tune, He marked her through the pane, He could not help but mark, And only passed her by, To come again at dark. He was a winter wind, Concerned with ice and snow, … Читать далее →

Philip Morin Freneau «The Indian Burying Ground»

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Стихотворение американского поэта и публициста Филипа Морена Френо «Индейское кладбище» на английском и русском языках. The Indian Burying Ground In spite of all the learned have said, I still my old opinion keep; The posture, that we give the dead, Points out the soul’s eternal sleep. Not so the ancients of these lands— The Indian, when from life released, Again is seated with his friends, And shares again the joyous feast. His imaged birds, and painted bowl, And venison, for a journey dressed, Bespeak the nature of the soul, Activity, that knows no rest. His bow, for action ready bent, … Читать далее →

Thomas Hardy «The Voice»

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Стихотворение английского поэта Томаса Харди (1840-1928) «Голос» на английском языке и в трёх переводах на русский язык. The Voice Woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me, Saying that now you are not as you were When you had changed from the one who was all to me, But as at first, when our day was fair. Can it be you that I hear? Let me view you, then, Standing as when I drew near to the town Where you would wait for me: yes, as I knew you then, Even to the original air-blue gown! Or … Читать далее →

Robert Burns «The Auld Farmer’s New-Year-Morning Salutation To His Auld Mare, Maggie»

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Стихотворение шотландского поэта Роберта Бернса «Утренний привет старого фермера его старой лошади Мэгги» на английском языке и в трёх переводах на русский язык. The Auld Farmer’s New-Year-Morning Salutation To His Auld Mare, Maggie A Guid New-year I wish thee, Maggie! Hae, there’s a ripp to thy auld baggie: Tho’ thou’s howe-backit now, an’ knaggie, I’ve seen the day Thou could hae gaen like ony staggie, Out-owre the lay. Tho’ now thou’s dowie, stiff, an’ crazy, An’ thy auld hide as white’s a daisie, I’ve seen thee dappl’t, sleek an’ glaizie, A bonie gray: He should been tight that daur’t to … Читать далее →

Sara Teasdale «The Return»

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Стихотворение американской поэтессы Сары Тисдейл (1884-1933) «Возвращение» на английском и русском языках. The Return He has come, he is here, My love has come home, The minutes are lighter Than flying foam, The hours are like dancers On gold-slippered feet, The days are young runners Naked and fleet — For my love has returned, He is home, he is here, In the whole world no other Is dear as my dear! Sara Teasdale (1884-1933) Возвращение Он дома, любимый Со мной – несомненно! Минуты светлее, Чем на море пена. Часы, словно танцы На глади асфальта, А дни проплывают — Мелькают, как сальто. … Читать далее →

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow “Four by the Clock”

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Four by the Clock Four by the clock! and yet not day; But the great world rolls and wheels away, With its cities on land, and its ships at sea, Into the dawn that is to be! Only the lamp in the anchored bark Sends its glimmer across the dark, And the heavy breathing of the sea Is the only sound that comes to me. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807 – 1882) Четыре часа утра Четвертый час… Во тьме ночной Летит в пространство шар земной. Несет он земли и моря Туда, где встретит их заря. И лишь фонарь на корабле Мерцает … Читать далее →

Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr. «The Last Leaf»

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Стихотворение американского врача, поэта и писателя Оливера Уэнделла Холмса (1809-1894) «Последний лист» на английском языке и в переводе М. Зенкевича на русский язык. The Last Leaf I saw him once before, As he passed by the door, And again The pavement stones resound, As he totters o’er the ground With his cane. They say that in his prime, Ere the pruning-knife of Time Cut him down, Not a better man was found By the Crier on his round Through the town. But now he walks the streets, And looks at all he meets Sad and wan, And he shakes his feeble … Читать далее →