• Язык:
    Английский (English)
Источник:

She

Она

I know a woman, full of silence,
Her bitter weariness from words,
Dwells in mysterious, blinking eyelids
Their widened pupils, secret worlds.
Her soul is greedily wide open
To copper music of sweet verse.
To life, that’s worldly, pleasant often,
She’s deaf and lofty, lust-averse.
Without a noise, without hurry,
So strangely smooth her walk and fine,
Can’t call her beautiful, but surely
In her all bliss of mine I find.
And when I long to have my own way,
I'm brave and proud, for her I seek,
I rush to learn this wise and sweet pain
In her nice raving and fatigue.
She shines in hours of hard yearning
And holds bright lightnings in her hand,
Her dreams are sharp, like shadows, churning
On Heaven’s scorching, fiery sand.

Другие переводы:

  • Английский
    Евгений Бонвер
    She
  • Руперт Мортон
    She
  • Испанский
    Луис Гомес де Аранда, Елена Курченко
    Ella
  • Хосе Матео, Ксения Дьяконова
    Ella
  • Хорхе Бустаманте Гарсия
    Ella
  • Каталанский
    Джулия Феррер, Ричард Сан Винсенте
    Ella
  • Немецкий
    Ирмгард Вилле
    Sie
  • Польский
    Леопольд Левин
    Ona
  • Чешский
    Мария Марчанова
    Ona

А вот еще:

Canzonet 2

Your temple, Lord, is in Heaven, / but the earth is Your shelter, too. / Lime trees bloom in the forests, / and birds sing in the trees. / / Like Your cathedral bells, spring / moves across the fields, gay, / and flying on a dream’s wings / angels come to us, in spring. / /...

Canzonet 3

How quiet Nature has gone! / All eyes, all ears. / Our spirit leans, leans / toward that final, awful freedom. / / And earth will forget how soldiers / hurt her, how merchants sinned, / and Druids will teach on green hills / as once, once before they taught. / / And poets will ...

Nature

Well, that’s her, that’s how she is: Nature, and the spirit / refuses to know her. / There’s the meadow, hung with the scent of honey / and a whiff of swamps, / / And the beginning wail of the wind, / like wolves in the distance, / and up over the fringes of pine / ...

Creation

My words spawned giants, / and they sat guzzling wine / all night, crimson wine, / horrible wine. / / I would not have known such weariness / had they been drinking my blood; / Dawn’s fingers were running across / my back when I fell asleep. / / I woke when it was evening...

Stockholm

I dreamed of Stockholm: why? / A restless, troubled dream / sprung from some different time, / almost a nightmare - almost... / / A holiday, maybe: who knows? / The bell kept clanging, that bell, / like a huge organ gone mad, / and a whole city praying, buzzing, roaring... / / ...

Sweden

Land of quick cold, / of forests and heavy-backed mountains, where / rumpled waterfalls / roar like prophets of doom - / / Sacred land, sacred forever, / do you still remember / when your grim-faced Varangians / went out across Europe to Greece? / / Is it right ? Can it be righ...