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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow “Mezzo Cammin”

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Mezzo Cammin Half of my life is gone, and I have left The years slipped from me and have not fulfilled The aspiration of my youth, to build Some tower of song with lofty parapet. Not indolence, nor pleasure, nor the fret Of restless passions that would not be stilled, But sorrow and a care that almost killed, Kept me from what I may accomplish yet; Though half-way up the hill, I see the Past Lying beneath me with its sounds and sights,- A city in the twilight dim and vast, With smoking roofs, soft bells, and gleaming lights,- And … Читать далее →

Emily Dickinson «Because that you are going…»

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* * * Because that you are going And never coming back And I, however absolute, May overlook your Track — Because that Death is final, However first it be, This instant be suspended Above Mortality — Significance that each has lived The other to detect Discovery not God himself Could now annihilate Eternity, Presumption The instant I perceive That you, who were Existence Yourself forgot to live — The “Life that is” will then have been A thing I never knew — As Paradise fictitious Until the Realm of you — The “Life that is to be,” to me, … Читать далее →

Rudyard Kipling «The Lovers’ Litany»

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Стихотворение Редьярда Киплинга (1865-1936) «Литания влюбленных» на английском языке и в пяти переводах на русский язык. The Lovers’ Litany Eyes of gray—the sodden quay, Driving rain and falling tears, As the steamer heads to sea In a parting storm of cheers. Sing, for Faith and Hope are high. None so true as you and I— Sing the Lovers’ Litany:— «Love like ours can never die!» Eyes of black—the throbbing keel Milky foam to left and right; Little whispers near the wheel In the brilliant tropic night. Cross that rules the Southern Sky, Stars that sweep, and wheel, and fly, Hear … Читать далее →

Elsie Melchert Fowler «Secrets»

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Secrets The wind is whispering secrets; Its voice is soft and low. There are white and wintry secrets In the quiet-falling snow. Hear secrets in the footsteps Of the people on the street, And in gay, ribboned packages Of everyone you meet. There are merry secrets twinkling In the eyes of many a child. Secrets kept by Mom and Daddy – When you asked they only smiled. Oh, our world is full of secrets, Now steal quietly away Till they open up like magic On a wondrous Christmas Day! Elsie Melchert Fowler (1880-1966) Рождество это время секретов… Рождество это время … Читать далее →

Robert Burns «Thou Gloomy December»

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Thou Gloomy December Ance mair I hail thee, thou gloomy December! Ance mair I hail thee wi’ sorrow and care; Sad was the parting thou makes me remember- Parting wi’ Nancy, oh, ne’er to meet mair! Fond lovers’ parting is sweet, painful pleasure, Hope beaming mild on the soft parting hour; But the dire feeling, O farewell for ever! Is anguish unmingled, and agony pure! Wild as the winter now tearing the forest, Till the last leaf o’ the summer is flown; Such is the tempest has shaken my bosom, Till my last hope and last comfort is gone. Still … Читать далее →

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow “The Arrow and the Song”

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The Arrow and the Song I shot an arrow into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For, so swiftly it flew, the sight Could not follow it in its flight. I breathed a song into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For who has sight so keen and strong, That it can follow the flight of song? Long, long afterward, in an oak I found the arrow, still unbroke; And the song, from beginning to end, I found again in the heart of a friend. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807 – 1882) Стрела … Читать далее →

Lord Alfred Douglas «Ode To Autumn»

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Стихотворение английского поэта и переводчика Альфреда Брюса Дугласа «Ода к осени» на английском и русском языках. Ode To Autumn Thou sombre lady of down—bended head, And weary lashes drooping to the cheek, With sweet sad fold of lips uncomforted, And listless hands more tired with strife than meek; Turn here thy soft brown feet, and to my heart, Unmatched to Summer’s golden minstrelsy, Or Spring’s shrill pipe of joy, sing once again Sad songs, and I to thee Well tuned, will answer that according part That jarred with those young seasons’ gladder strain. Give me thy empty branches for the … Читать далее →