Стихи. (В переводах разных авторов)

Йетс Уильям Батлер

Dim Inchy wood, that hides badger and fox

And marten-cat, and borders that old wood

Wise Biddy Early called the wicked wood:

Seven odours, seven murmurs, seven woods.

I had not eyes like those enchanted eyes,

Yet dreamed that beings happier than men

Moved round me in the shadows, and at night

My dreams were cloven by voices and by fires;

And the images I have woven in this story

Of Forgael and Dectora and the empty waters

Moved round me in the voices and the fires,

And more I may not write of, for they that cleave

The waters of sleep can make a chattering tongue

Heavy like stone, their wisdom being half silence.

How shall I name you, immortal, mild, proud shadows?

I only know that all we know comes from you,

And that you come from Eden on flying feet.

Is Eden far away, or do you hide

From human thought, as hares and mice and coneys

That run before the reaping-hook and lie

In the last ridge of the barley? Do our woods

And winds and ponds cover more quiet woods,

More shining winds, more star glimmering ponds?

Is Eden out of time and out of space?

And do you gather about us when pale light

Shining on water and fallen among leaves,

And winds blowing from flowers, and whirr of feathers

And the green quiet, have uplifted the heart?

I have made this poem for you, that men may read it

Before they read of Forgael and Dectora,

As men in the old times, before the harps began,

Poured out wine for the high invisible ones.

Савин

Валерий

У.Б. Йетс. Часть 1. William Batler Yeats (1865–1939)

Родился в Дублине, в семье художника, изучал живопись в Дублине. Основатель Ирландского театра. Собиратель и издатель ирландского фольклора. Сенатор Ирландского свободного государства (1922-28). Лауреат Нобелевской премии (1923). Автор пьес, рассказов, эссе о поэзии и театре и т. д.

He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,

Enwrought with golden and silver light,

The blue and the dim and the dark cloths

Of night and light and the half-light,

I would spread the cloths under your feet:

But I, being poor, have only my dreams;

I have spread my dreams under your feet;

Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

Он желает небесную ткань.

Имел бы я неба шитую ткань,

А в ней золотой и серебряный свет,

Синюю, серую, темную ткань,

Дней и ночей полумрак-полусвет,

Ее расстелил бы под ноги тебе:

Но беден я, у меня лишь мечты;

Я бросил мечты под ноги тебе;

Мягко ступай на мои мечты.

040902

The Ragged Wood

O, hurry, where by water, among the trees,

The delicate-stepping stag and his lady sigh,

When they have looked upon their images

Would none had ever loved but you and I!

Or have you heard that sliding silver-shoed

Pale silver-proud queen-woman of the sky,

When the sun looked out of his golden hood?

O, that none ever loved but you and I!

O hurry to the ragged wood, for there

I will drive all those lovers out and cry

O, my share of the world, O, yellow hair!

No one has ever loved but you and I.

Холмистый лес.

Иди, где вода, где со вздохом любви

С подругой олень бредет сквозь кусты;

Взглянули они в отраженья свои, -

Никто не любил так, как я и ты!

Ты видел царицу, как вся в серебре

На туфельках гордо скользит с высоты?

Как в золоте солнце плывет по горе?

О, никто не любил так, как я и ты!

Иди же на холм, что лесом оброс,

Влюбленных вспугну я и крикну в листы:

"О, мир и душа! о, пламя волос!

Никто не любил так, как я и ты!

050902

Death

NOR dread nor hope attend

A dying animal;

A man awaits his end

Dreading and hoping all;

Many times he died,

Many times rose again.

A great man in his pride

Confronting murderous men

Casts derision upon

Supersession of breath;

He knows death to the bone -

Man has created death.

Cмерть.

Без надежды и страха свой век

Кончает зверь или птаха;

Ждет свою смерть лишь человек

С надеждой и страхом.

Умирал он уже не раз

И не раз поднимался снова.

Силой своей гордясь,

Крепчая в борьбе суровой,

Усмехается он хитро

Духу жизни, ее круговерти;

Ему знакомо смерти нутро -

Человек сам создатель смерти.

I First Love

THOUGH nurtured like the sailing moon

In beauty's murderous brood,

She walked awhile and blushed awhile

And on my pathway stood

Until I thought her body bore

A heart of flesh and blood.

But since I laid a hand thereon

And found a heart of stone

I have attempted many things