Лінгвістичні особливості вираження простору почуттів в англійській поезії

Вид материала

Содержание

Лексикографічні видання
Ілюстративні матеріли дипломної роботи
Translation of a romantic love song
To florence
Remind me not
From the antique
My true-love hath my heart
Emily Dickinson I CANNOT LIVE WITH YOU
I heard a fly buzz
Федор тютчев

Подобный материал:

1 2 3 4

ЛЕКСИКОГРАФІЧНІ ВИДАННЯ

Ахманова О.С. Словарь лингвистических терминов.– М.: Изд-во "Сов. энциклопедия", 1966.– 524с.
Лингвистический энциклопедический словарь.– М.: Сов. энциклопедия, 1990.– 285с.
Філософський словник / За ред. В.І. Шинкарука.– К.: Гол. ред. УРЕ АН, 1973.– 600с.

ІЛЮСТРАТИВНІ МАТЕРІЛИ ДИПЛОМНОЇ РОБОТИ

Западноевропецская поэзия ХХ века // Библиотека всемирной литературы / под ред. В.Ваксмахер, А.Парин, С.Шлапоберская. Сер.3. – том 152. – М.: Изд-во «Художественная литература», 1977. – 846 с.
Супруненко Н.А. Дарунок долію – Київ: Радянський письменник, 1990. – 126 с.
Три века русской поэзии / Сост. Н.В.Банников. – М.: Просвещение. – 1986. – 750 с.
An Anthology Of English And American Verse. – Moscow: Progress Publishers, 1972. – 720 p.
Eliot T.S. The Waste Land and Other Poems. – New York: Harvest, 1962. – 88 p.

ДОДАТОК 1

Схема 1. Класифікація видів простору.

ДОДАТОК 2

Н.С.Супруненко

ЧЕКАННЯ

В долоні наберу води –

Відчую тисяч крапель свіжість

І зрозумію тиху ніжність

Привабливого слова : «Жди…»

В чеканні – стоголосий біль

І неприборкана надія

На здійснення святої мрії,

Мед сподівань, вагання сіль…

В чеканні – трепіт новизни,

Який щомиті зігріває

І в наші душі засіває

Постійне відчуття весни.

* * *

Якби не сни, то де б зустрілася з тобою?!

Якби не пам’ять – де тебе знайти?!

Я обійшла всі землі і світи

І подружилася з болем та журбою!

Тебе нема ні в лісі, ні в долині,

Дощі розмили всі твої сліди…

Я зрозуміла, що тебе віднині,

Крім пам’яті, – ніде вже не знайти…

* * *

Немов завмерло все в мені –

Ні гіркоти, ні болю,

Мовчать плачі, мовчать пісні,

Ось так як ми з тобою…

Сніжинок трепетний танок

Під ліхтарем кружляє.

Замовкла я, і ти замовк,

Лиш вітер розмовляє.

Та всі слова його пусті –

До серця не доходять,

А десь слова легкі, прості

В весняних соках бродять.

Я їх чекаю і вві сні,

Немов з-під снігу квітів…

Слова мої – мої пісні,

Близькі мені, як діти…

* * *

Я з вами познайомилась…Відразу

Відхлинули вагання та образи,

І Ваша віра у мені живе

Прозорістю й незламністю алмазу

* * *

В твоїх очах і ласка, й гнів.

В душі моїй – то плач, то спів –

Той день тобі, мов квітку, дарувала –

А ти того не зрозумів.

* * *

Нема в мені ні радості, ні болю.

Я наче скам’яніле, нежива…

Всі дні – мов зливи на пшеничне поле,

Коли вже починаються жнива…

ЩЕ…

У закутках душі моєї

Ще не протоптані стежки,

Травневий вітер ще стрімкий

У закутках душі моєї!

Весна…Я завжди поруч з нею,

Які б не падали сніги!

Ще не розмиті береги

У закутках душі моєї!

Ще ясно пролісок синіє,

М’які кульбаби піднялись,

Від згорищ не зчорніла вись

У закутках душі моєї!

Лелеки ще живуть сім’єю –

Не дотруїв хімічний вік…

Стіка з беріз ще чистий сік

У закутках душі моєї!

Ще не підстрижені алеї

І не наведені мости, –

Ще можу я себе знайти

У закутках душі моєї!

ДОДАТОК 3

G.G.Byron

MY SOUL IS DARK

I

My soul is dark – Oh! Quickly string

The harp I yet can brook to hear;

And let thy gentle fingers fling

Its melting murmurs o’er mine ear.

If in this heart a hope be dear,

That sound shall charm it forth again:

If in these eyes there lurk a tear,

’Twill flow, and cease to burn my brain.

II

But did the strain be wild and deep,

Nor let thy notes of joy be first:

I tell thee, minstrel, I must weep,

Or else this heavy heart will burst;

For it hath been by sorrow nursed,

And ach’d in sleepless silence long;

And now ’tis doom’d to know the worst,

And break at once – or yield to song.

(from Hebrew Melodies)

* * *

A long, long kiss of youth, and love,

And beauty, all concentrating like rays

Into one focus, kindled from above;

Such kisses as belong to early days,

Wher heart, and soul, and sense, in concert move,

And the blood’s lava, and the pulse a blaze,

Each kiss a heart-quake, – for a kiss’s strength,

I think it must be reckon’d by its length.

From DON JUAN, Canto 2

TRANSLATION OF A ROMANTIC LOVE SONG

1

Ah! Love was never yet without

The pang, the agony, the doubt,

Which rends my heart with ceaseless sigh,

While day and night roll darkling by.

2

Without one friend to hear my woe,

I faint, I die beneath the blow.

That Love had arrows, well I knew

Alas! I find them poisoned too.

3

Birds, yet in freedom, shun the net

Which Love around your haunts hath set;

Or, circled by his fatal fire,

Your hearts shall burn, your hopes expire.

4

A bird of free and careless wing

Was I, through many a smiling spring;

But caught within the subtle snare,

I burn, and feebly flutter there.

5

Who ne’er have loved, and loved in vain,

Can neither feel nor pity pain,

The cold repulse, the look askance,

The lightning of Love’s angry glance.

6

In flattering dreams I deemed thee mine;

Now hope, and he who hoped, decline;

Like melting wax, or withering flower,

I feel my passion, and thy power.

7

My light of Life ! ah, tell me why

That poulting lip, and altered eye?

My bird of Love! My beauteous mate!

And art thou changed, and canst thou hate?

8

Mine eyes like wintry streams o’erflow:

What wretch with me would barter woe?

My bird! Relent: one note could give

A charm to bid thy lover live.

9

My curdling blood, my madd’ning brain,

In silent anguish I sustain;

And still thy heart, without partaking

One pang, exults – while mine is breaking.

10

Pour me the poison; fear not thou!

Thou canst not murder more than now:

I’ve lived to curse my natal day,

And Love, that thus can lingering slay.

11

My wounded soul, my bleeding breast,

Can patience preach thee into rest?

Alas! Too late, I dearly know

That Joy is harbinger of Woe.

TO FLORENCE

1

Oh Lady! When I left the shore,

The distant shore which gave me birth,

I hardly thought to grieve once more,

To quit another spot on earth:

2

Yet here, amidst this barren isle,

Where panting Nature droops the head,

Where only thou art seen to smile,

I view my parting hour with dread.

3

Though far from Albin’s craggy shore,

Divided by the dark-blue main;

A few, brief, rolling seasons o’er,

Perchance I view her cliffs again:

4

But wheresoe’er I now may roam,

Through scorching clime, and varied sea,

Though Time restore me to my home,

I ne’er shall bend mine eyes on thee:

5

On thee, in whom at once conspire

All charms which heedless hearts can move,

Whom but to see is to admire,

And, oh! Forgive the word – to love.

6

Forgive the word, in one who ne’er

With such a word can more offend;

And since thy heart I cannot share,

Believe me, what I am, thy friend.

7

And who so cold as look on thee,

Thon lovely wand’rer, and be less?

Nor be, what man should ever be,

The friend of Beauty in distress?

8

Ah! Who would think that form had past

Through Danger’s most destructive path,

Had braved the death-winged tempest’s blast,

And ‘scaped a Tyrant’s fiercer wrath?

9

Lady! When I shall view the walls

Where free Byzantium once arose,

And Stamboul’s Oriental halls

The Turkish tyrants now enclose;

10

Though mightiest in the lists of fame,

That glorious city still shall be;

On me ‘twill hold a dearer claim,

As spot of thy nativity:

11

And though I bid thee now farewell,

When I behold that a wonderous scene –

Since where thou art I may not dwell –

‘Twill soothe to be where thou hast been.

REMIND ME NOT,

REMIND ME NOT

1

Remind me not, remind me not,

Of those beloved, those vanished hours,

When all my soul was given to thee;

Hours that may never be forgot,

Till Time unnerves our vital powers,

And thou and I shall cease to be.

2

Can I forget – canst thou forget,

When playing with thy golden hair,

Quick thy fluttering heart did move?

Oh, by my soul, I see thee yet,

With eyes so languid, breast so fair,

And lips, though silent, breathing love.

3

When thus reclining on my breast,

Those eyes threw back a glance so sweet,

As half reproach’d yet rais’d desire,

And still our glowing lips would meet,

As if in kisses to expire.

4

And then those pensive eyes would close,

And bid their lids each other seek,

Veiling the azzure orbs below;

While their long lashes’ darken’d gloss

Seem’d stealing o’er thy brilliant cheek,

Like raven’s plumage smooth’d on snow.

5

I dreamt last night our love return’d,

And, sooth to say, that very dream

Was sweeter in its phantasy,

Than in for other hearts I burn’d,

For eyes that ne’er like thine could beam

In Rapture’s wild reality.

6

Then tell me not, remind me not,

Of hours which, though for ever gone,

Can still a pleasing dream restore,

Till thou and I shall be forgot,

And senseless, as the mouldering stone

Which tells that we shall be no more.

Christina Rossetti

MEMORY

I nursed it in my bosom while it lived,

I hid it in my heart when it was dead.

In joy I sat alone; even so I grieved

Alone, and nothing said.

I shut the door to face the naked truth,

I stood alone – I faced the truth alone,

Stripped bare of shelf-regard or forms or ruth

Till first and last were shown.

I took the perfect balances and weighed;

No shaking of my hand disturbed the poise;

Weighed, found it wanting: not a word I said,

But silence made my choice.

None know the choice I made; it make it still.

None know the choice I made and broke my heart,

Breaking mine idol: I have braced my will

Once, chosen for once my part.

I broke it at a blow, I laid it cold,

Crushed in my deep heart where it used to live.

My heart dies inch by inch; the time grows old,

Grows old in which I grieve.

I have a room whereinto no one enters

Save I myself alone:

There sits a blessed memory on a throne,

There my life centres.

While winter comes and goes – oh tedious comer! –

And while its nip-wind blows;

While bloom the bloodless lily and warm rose

Of lavish summer.

If any should force entrance he might see ther

One buried yet not dead,

Before whose face I no more bow my head

Or bend my knee there;

But often in my worn life’s autumn weather

I watch there with clear eyes,

And think how it will be in Paradise

When we’re together.

FROM THE ANTIQUE

It’s a weary life, it is, she said:

Doubly blank in a woman’s lot:

I wish and I wish I were a man:

Or better than any being, were not:

Were nothing at all in all the world.

Not a body and not a soul:

Not so much as a grain of dust

Or drop of water from pole to pole.

Still the world would wag on the same,

Still the seasons go and come:

Blossoms bloom as in days of old,

Cherries ripen and wild bees hum.

None would miss me in all the world,

How much less would care or weep:

I should be nothing, while all the rest

Would wake and weary and fall asleep.

W.Blake

* * *

To see a World in a Grain of Sand,

And a Heaven in a Wild Flower:

Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand,

And Eternity in an hour.

From Auguries of Innocence

P.B.Shelley

* * *

1

Like the ghost of a dear friend dead

Is Time long past.

A tone which is now forever fled,

A hope which now forever past,

A love so sweet it could not last,

Was Time long past.

2

Ther were sweet dreams in the night

Of Time long past:

And, was it sadness or delight,

Each day a shadow onward cast

Which made us wish it yet might last

That Time long past.

3

That is regret, almost remorse,

For Time long past.

From THE PRINCESS

* * *

…I love thee; yes, I feel

That on the fountain of my heart a seal

Is set, to keep its waters pure and bright

For thee, since in those tears thou hast delight.

We – are we not formed, as notes of music are,

For one another, though dissimilar;

Such difference, without discord, as can make

Those sweetest sounds in which all spirits shake,

As trembling leaves in a continuous air?

From EPIPSYCHIDION

* * *

The fountains mingle with the river

And the rivers with the ocean,

The winds of heaven mix for ever

With a sweet emotion;

Nothing in the world is single;

All things by a law divine

In one spirit meet and mingle –

Why not I with thine?

From EPIPSYCHIDION

Ph.Sidney

MY TRUE-LOVE HATH MY HEART

My true-love hath my heart, I have his,

By just exchange one for another given:

I hold his dear, and mine be cannot miss,

There never was a better bargain driven:

My true-love hath my heart and I have his.

His heart in me keeps him and in one,

My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides:

He loves my heart, for once it was his own,

I cherish his because in me it bides.

which thus is made

A type of that twin entity which springs

From matter and light, evinced in solid and shade.

There is a twofold _Silence_--sea and shore--

Body and soul. One dwells in lonely places,

Newly with grass o'ergrown; some solemn graces,

Some human memories and tearful lore,

Render him terrorless: his name's "No More."

He is the corporate Silence: dread him not!

No power hath he of evil in himself;

But should some urgent fate (untimely lot!)

Bring thee to meet his shadow (nameless elf,

That haunteth the lone regions where hath trod

No foot of man), commend thyself to God!

Emily Dickinson

I CANNOT LIVE WITH YOU

I cannot live with You –

It would be Life –

And Life is over there –

Behind the Shelf

The Sexton keeps the Key to –

Putting up

Our Life – His Porcelain –

Like a Cup –

Discarded of the Housewife –

Quaint – or Broke –

A newer Sevres pleases –

Old Ones crack –

I could not die – with You –

For One must wait

To shut the Other's Gaze down –

You – could not –

And I – could I stand by

And see You – freeze –

Without my Right of Frost –

Death's privilege?

Nor could I rise – with You –

Because Your Face

Would put out Jesus' –

That New Grace

Glow plain – and foreign

On my homesick Eye –

Except that You than He

Shone closer by –

They'd judge Us – How –

For You – served Heaven – You know,

Or sought to –

I could not –

Because You saturated Sight –

And I had no more Eyes

For sordid excellence

As Paradise

And were You lost, I would be –

Though My Name

Rang loudest

On the Heavenly fame –

And were You – saved –

And I – condemned to be

Where You were not –

That self – were Hell to Me –

So We must meet apart –

You there – I – here –

With just the Door ajar

That Oceans are – and Prayer –

And that White Sustenance –

Despair –

I HEARD A FLY BUZZ

I heard a Fly buzz – when I died –

The Stillness in the Room

Was like the Stillness in the Air –

Between the Heaves of Storm –

The Eyes around – had wrung them dry –

And Breaths were gathering firm

For that last Onset – when the King

Be witnessed – in the Room –

I willed my Keepsakes – Signed away

What portions of me be

Assignable – and then it was

There interposed a Fly –

With Blue – uncertain stumbling Buzz –

Between the light – and me –

And then the Windows failed – and then

I could not see to see –

ДОДАТОК 4

ФЕДОР ТЮТЧЕВ

ВИДЕНИЕ

Есть некий час, в ночи, всемирного молчанья,

И в оный час явлений и чудес

Живая колесница мирозданья

Открыто катится в святилище небес.

Тогда густеет ночь, как хаос на водах;

Беспамятство, как Атлас, давить сушу;

Лишь Музы девственную душу

В пророческих тревожат боги снах!

* * *

Душа моя – Элизиум теней,

Теней безмолвных, светлых и прекрасных,

Ни помыслам годины буйной сей,

Ни радостям, Ни горю не причастных.

Душа моя, элизиум теней,

Что общего меж жизнью и тобой!

Меж вами, призраки минувших, лучших дней,

И сей бесчувственной толпой ? ...

* * *

Певучесть есть в морских волнах,

Гармония в стихийных спорах,

И стройный мусикийский шорох

Струится в зыбких камышах.

Невозмутимый строй во всем,

Созвучье полное в природе, –

Лишь в нашей призрачной свободе

Разлад мы с нею сознаем.

Откуда, как разлад возник ?

И отчего же в общем хоре

Душа не то поет, что в море,

И ропщет мыслящий тростник?

Blog

Лінгвістичні особливості вираження простору почуттів в англійській поезії

Содержание

ЛЕКСИКОГРАФІЧНІ ВИДАННЯ

Emily Dickinson

I CANNOT LIVE WITH YOU