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 →

* * * 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 →

Стихотворение американского поэта и переводчика Генри Лонгфелло (1807 – 1882) «Excelsior!» (Excelsior — Вперед и выше! (лат.)) на английском языке и в трёх переводах на русский язык. EXELSIOR! The shades of night were falling fast, As through an Alpine village passed A youth, who bore, mid snow and ice, A banner with the strange device, Excelsior! His brow was sad; his eye beneath Flashed like a falchion from its sheath, And like a silver clarion rung The accents of that unknown tongue, Excelsior! In happy homes he saw the light Of household fires gleam warm and bright; Above, the spectral … Читать далее →

The Witnesses In Ocean’s wide domains, Half buried in the sands, Lie skeletons in chains, With shackled feet and hands. Beyond the fall of dews, Deeper than plummet lies, Float ships, with all their crews, No more to sink nor rise. There the black Slave-ship swims, Freighted with human forms, Whose fettered, fleshless limbs Are not the sport of storms. These are the bones of Slaves; They gleam from the abyss; They cry, from yawning waves, «We are the Witnesses!» Within Earth’s wide domains Are markets for men’s lives; Their necks are galled with chains, Their wrists are cramped with … Читать далее →