Уильям Вордсворт. Избранная лирика

Вид материала

Содержание

Inside of king's college chapel, cambridge
В капелле королевского колледжа в кембридже
Lament of mary, queen of scots, on the eve of a new year i

Подобный материал:

1 ... 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 ... 67

MUTABILITY

From low to high doth dissolution climb,

And sink from high to low, along a scale

Of awful notes, whose concord shall not fail;

A musical but melancholy chime.

Which they can hear who meddle not with crime,

Nor avarice, nor over-anxious care.

Truth fails not; but her outward forms that bear

The longest dale do melt like frosty rime,

That in the morning whitened hill and plain

And is no more; drop like the tower sublime

Of yesterday, which royally did wear

His crown of weeds, but could not even sustain

Some casual shout that broke the silent air,

Or the unimaginable touch of Time.

ИЗМЕНЧИВОСТЬ

Восходит ввысь мелодией могучей

Распад вселенский и на спад идет

Неспешной чередой ужасных нот,

Гармонией скрежещущих созвучий;

Кто слышит их, - тот презирает случай,

Бежит нечистых выгод и хлопот.

Бессмертна правда; но она живет

В обличьях дня, в их смене неминучей.

Так иней, выбеливший утром луг,

Растает; так седая башня вдруг

От возгласа случайного качнется

И, словно слепленная из песка,

Обрушится, - когда ее коснется

Невидимая Времени рука.

INSIDE OF KING'S COLLEGE CHAPEL, CAMBRIDGE

Tax not the royal Saint with vain expense,

With ill-matched aims the Architect who planned -

Albeit labouring for a scanty band

Of white-robed Scholars only - this immense

And glorious Work of fine intelligence!

Give all thou canst; high Heaven rejects the lore

Of nicely-calculated less or more;

So deemed the man who fashioned for the sense

These lofty pillars, spread that branching roof

Self-poised, and scooped into ten thousand cells,

Where light and shade repose, where music dwells

Lingering - and wandering on as loth to die;

Like thoughts whose very sweetness yieldeth proof

That they were born for immortality.

В КАПЕЛЛЕ КОРОЛЕВСКОГО КОЛЛЕДЖА В КЕМБРИДЖЕ

Не упрекай святых за мотовство,

Ни зодчего, что создал небывалый

Великолепный храм - для горстки малой

Ученых прихожан, - вложив в него

Все, без остатка - мысль и мастерство!

Будь щедрым; чужд взыскательным высотам

Труд, отягченный мелочным расчетом;

Так думал он, вознесший волшебство

Резных колонн и арок невесомых,

Где радуги дрожат в цветных проемах,

Где в полумраке музыка парит,

Блуждая в сотах каменного свода, -

Как мысли, коих сладость и свобода

Нам о бессмертье духа говорит.

From "The Poetical Works"

Из книги "Поэтические произведения"

LAMENT OF MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS, ON THE EVE OF A NEW YEAR

I

Smile of the Moon! - for so I name

That silent greeting from above;

A gentle flash of light that came

From her whom drooping captives love;

Or art thou of still higher birth?

Thou that didst part the clouds of earth,

My torpor to reprove!

II

Bright boon of pitying Heaven! - alas,

I may not trust thy placid cheer!

Pondering that Time to-night will pass

The threshold of another year;

For years to me are sad and dull;

My very moments are too full

Of hopelessness and fear.

III

And yet, the soul-awakening gleam,

That struck perchance the farthest cone

Of Scotland's rocky wilds, did seem

To visit me, and me alone;

Me, unapproached by any friend,

Save those who to my sorrows lend

Tears due unto their own.

IV

To-night the church-tower bells will ring

Through these wild realms a festive peal;

To the new year a welcoming;

A tuneful offering for the weal

Of happy millions lulled in sleep;

While I am forced to watch and weep,

By wounds that may not heal.

V

Born all too high, by wedlock raised

Still higher - to be cast thus low!

Would that mine eyes had never gazed

On aught of more ambitious show

Than the sweet flowerets of the fields

- It is my royal state that yields

This bitterness of woe.

VI

Yet how? - for I, if there be truth

In the world's voice, was passing fair;

And beauty, for confiding youth,

Those shocks of passion can prepare

That kill the bloom before its time;

And blanch, without the owner's crime,

The most resplendent hair.

VII

Unblest distinction! showered on me

To bind a lingering life in chains:

All that could quit my grasp, or flee,

Is gone; - but not the subtle stains

Fixed in the spirit; for even here

Can I be proud that jealous fear,

Of what I was remains.

Blog