Стихи англоязычных поэтов с переводом на русский язык

Под этой рубрикой публикуются стихи англоязычных поэтов на английском языке с переводом на русский язык.
Чтобы ознакомиться с полным списком стихов, опубликованных в этой рубрике, посетите страницу ‘Стихи. Переводы с английского языка на русский.’

Emily Dickinson «Because I could not stop for Death…»

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* * * Because I could not stop for Death – He kindly stopped for me – The Carriage held but just Ourselves – And Immortality. We slowly drove – He knew no haste And I had put away My labor and my leisure too, For His Civility – We passed the School, where Children strove At Recess – in the Ring – We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain – We passed the Setting Sun – Or rather – He passed us – The Dews drew quivering and chill – For only Gossamer, my Gown – My Tippet – … Читать далее →

Robert Burns «I Hae a Wife O’ My Ain»

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Стихотворение Роберта Бернса (1759 — 1796) «У меня есть жена…» на английском языке и в пяти переводах на русский язык. I Hae a Wife O’ My Ain I Hae a wife of my ain, I’ll partake wi’ naebody; I’ll take Cuckold frae nane, I’ll gie Cuckold to naebody. I hae a penny to spend, There-thanks to naebody! I hae naething to lend, I’ll borrow frae naebody. I am naebody’s lord, I’ll be slave to naebody; I hae a gude braid sword, I’ll tak dunts frae naebody. I’ll be merry and free, I’ll be sad for naebody; Naebody cares for me, … Читать далее →

Thomas Hardy «Afterwards»

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Стихотворение английского поэта Томаса Харди (1840-1928) «Afterwards» на английском языке и в трёх переводах на русский язык. Звукозапись стихотворения на английском языке: Afterwards When the Present has latched its postern behind my tremulous stay, And the May month flaps its glad green leaves like wings, Delicate-filmed as new-spun silk, will the neighbours say, «He was a man who used to notice such things?» If it be in the dusk when, like an eyelid’s soundless blink, The dewfall-hawk comes crossing the shades to alight Upon the wind-warped upland thorn, a gazer may think, «To him this must have been a familiar … Читать далее →

Robert Burns «Ae Fond Kiss, And Then We Sever»

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Стихотворение Роберта Бернса «Прощальный поцелуй» на английском языке и в трёх переводах на русский язык. Звукозапись стихотворения на английском языке. Ae Fond Kiss Ae fond kiss, and then we sever; Ae fareweel, alas, for ever! Deep in heart-wrung tears I’ll pledge thee, Warring sighs and groans I’ll wage thee. Who shall say that Fortune grieves him, While the star of hope she leaves him? Me, nae cheerful twinkle lights me; Dark despair around benights me. I’ll ne’er blame my partial fancy, Naething could resist my Nancy: But to see her was to love her; Love but her, and love for … Читать далее →

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow “The day is done…”

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* * * The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, As a feather is wafted downward From an eagle in his flight. I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o’er me That my soul cannot resist: A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain. And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain. Come, read to me some poem, Some simple and heartfelt lay, That shall soothe this restless feeling, And banish the thoughts of day. … Читать далее →

Thomas Hardy «Near Lanivet, 1872»

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Near Lanivet, 1872 There was a stunted handpost just on the crest, Only a few feet high: She was tired, and we stopped in the twilight-time for her rest, At the crossways close thereby. She leant back, being so weary, against its stem, And laid her arms on its own, Each open palm stretched out to each end of them, Her sad face sideways thrown. Her white-clothed form at this dim-lit cease of day Made her look as one crucified In my gaze at her from the midst of the dusty way, And hurriedly «Don’t,» I cried. I do not … Читать далее →

Ralph Waldo Emerson “Brahma”

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Brahma If the red slayer think he slays, Or if the slain think he is slain, They know not well the subtle ways I keep, and pass, and turn again. Far or forgot to me is near; Shadow and sunlight are the same; The vanished gods to me appear; And one to me are shame and fame. They reckon ill who leave me out; When me they fly, I am the wings; I am the doubter and the doubt, I am the hymn the Brahmin sings. The strong gods pine for my abode, And pine in vain the sacred Seven; … Читать далее →