Как часто утром нежная заря
Вершины гор ласкает царским взором,
Касаясь лика золотым узором
Лугов зеленых, чествуя поля…
Но вскоре под напором низких туч
Бежит от них, свой лик прекрасный пряча,
Мир покидает чувственный и зрячий –
Невидимо среди свинцовых круч.
Так солнце чувств, мой лоб озолотив,
Великолепьем любящего взора
Закрылось маской скуки и позора,
За тучу слов, за горестный мотив.
Но ты, любовь моя, не презираешь
Ни пятен солнечных, ни одночасье рая.
Full many a glorious morning have I seen
Flatter the mountain tops with sovereign eye,
Kissing with golden face the meadows green,
Gilding pale streams with heavenly alcumy,
Anon permit the basest clouds to ride
With ugly rack on his celestial face,
And from the forlorn world his visage hide,
Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace:
Even so my sun one early morn did shine
With all triumphant splendor on my brow;
But out alack, he was but one hour mine,
The region cloud hath masked him from me now.
Yet him for this my love no whit disdaineth:
Suns of the world may stain, when heaven's sun staineth.
Дорогие читатели! Не скупитесь на ваши отзывы,
замечания, рецензии, пожелания авторам. И не забудьте дать
оценку произведению, которое вы прочитали - это помогает авторам
совершенствовать свои творческие способности
Насіння (The seed) - Калінін Микола Це переклад з Роберта У. Сервіса (Robert W. Service)
I was a seed that fell
In silver dew;
And nobody could tell,
For no one knew;
No one could tell my fate,
As I grew tall;
None visioned me with hate,
No, none at all.
A sapling I became,
Blest by the sun;
No rumour of my shame
Had any one.
Oh I was proud indeed,
And sang with glee,
When from a tiny seed
I grew a tree.
I was so stout and strong
Though still so young,
When sudden came a throng
With angry tongue;
They cleft me to the core
With savage blows,
And from their ranks a roar
Of rage arose.
I was so proud a seed
A tree to grow;
Surely there was no need
To lay me low.
Why did I end so ill,
The midst of three
Black crosses on a hill
Called Calvary?
