zoj vospevayu I ogn' dushi. moej v sih pesnyah izlivayu. Tak skromnyj solovej, v nochnoj, bezmolvnyj chas Sokryvshis' v mrak lesov, liet svoj sladkij glas. I god, i den', i noch' - vse snova vozroditsya; No dlya ochej moih svet dnya ne vozvratitsya; Moj vzor ne otdohnet na zeleni holmov; Vesna moya bez roz i leto bez plodov. Uvy! ya ne uzryu ni sinih vod bezmernyh, Ni utrennih luchej, ni purpurov vechernih, Ni bogomuzhnego i' krotkogo lica, V chertah kotorogo blistaet lik Hvorca. Votshche krasuyutsya cvetov razlichny rody: Ischezli dlya menya vse krasoty prirody! I nebo i zemlya pokrylis' strashnoj t'moj - I kniga divnaya zakrylas' predo mnoj. Vse pusto, vechnoyu vse noch'yu poglotilos' I solnce dlya menya naveki zakatilos'. Prostite navsegda, nauki i trudy, Sokrovishcha iskusstv i mudrosti plody! Sokrovishchem iskusstv ya bol'she ne plenyusya, Plodami mudrosti uzhe ne naslazhusya: Vse skryla noch'! No ty lyubimica nebes, Sojdi na pomoshch' mne, rastorgni mrak oches." O, muza, prosveti menya ognem nebesnym! I ne ostanus' ya v potomstve neizvestnym, Otkryv bestrepetno v svyashchennoj pesni sej Sokrytoe dodnes' ot smertnogo ochej. Perevod N. I. Gnedicha Samuel Butler 38. FROM oHUDIBRAS" For his Religion it was fit To match his Learning and his Wit: 'Twas Presbyterian true blew, For he was of that stubborn Crew Of Errant Saints, whom all men grant To be the true Church Militant: Such as do build their Faith upon The holy Text of Pike and Gun; Decide all Controversies by Infallible Artillery; And prove their Doctrine Orthodox By Apostolic Blows and Knoclrs; Call Fire and Sword and Desolation, A godly-thorough-Reformation, Which always must be carry'd on, And still be doing; never done: As if Religion were intended For nothing else but to be mended. A Sect, whose chief Devotion lies In odd perverse Antipathies; In falling out with that or this, And finding somewhat still amiss: More peevish, cross, and spleenatick, Than Dog distract, or Monky sick. That with more care keep Holy-day Semyuel Batler 38. GUDIBRAS (Otryvok) Sebe, razumen i uchen, Podstat' i veru vybral on - Byl iz presviter'yan goryachih, Iz sekty teh svyatosh brodyachih, CHto oshchutit' nam dali vslast' Voinstvuyushchej cerkvi vlast', Svoi otstaivaya vzglyady Patristikoyu kanonady, Pri sporah v hod puskaya grad Mushketno-sabel'nyh citat, I zavershaya disput vsyakij Putem apostol'skoj ataki, A bujstvo stali i ognya Reformoj bozh'ej cerkvi mnya - Reformoj istinnoj i vechnoj, Poskol'ku mozhno beskonechno O vere disputy vesti I k edinen'yu ne pridti. Zlost' i svarlivost' - vot primety Teh, kto priverzhen k sekte etoj. Vse ne po nim, vse im ne tak. Ih svore nuzhen lish' pustyak, CHtob v draku ustremilis' r'yano Oni, kak psy il' obez'yany. Vsegda ne po nutru im tot, 112 Samuel Butler The wrong, than others the right way: Compound for Sins, they are inclin'd to, By damning those they have no mind to; Still so perverse and opposite, As if they worshipp'd God for spight. The self-same thing they will abhor One way, and long another for. Free-will they one way disavow, Another, nothing else allow. All Piety consists therein In them, in other Men all Sin. 113. Semyuel Batler Kto ne na ih maner zhivet: Oni ved' sami tak grehovny, CHto vse u nih v grehah vinovny. Vrazhda ko vsem v nih tak sil'na, CHto i v molitvah ih slyshna. Oni chego sebe zhelayut, Togo 'drugim ne dozvolyayut: Svobodu sovesti im daj, No ostal'nyh ee lishaj. Oni odni - gospodni chada, Vse prochie - ischad'ya ada. Perevod P. V. Melkovoj Andrew Marvell 39. THE DEFINITION OF LOVE My Love is of a birth as rare As 'tis for object strange and high: It was begotten by Despair Upon Impossibility. Magnanimous Despair alone Could show me so divine a thing, Where feeble Hope could ne'r have flown But vainly flapt its Tinsel Wing. And yet I quickly might arrive Where my extended Soul is fixt, But Fate does Iron wedges drive, And alwais crouds it self betwixt. For Fate with jealous Eye does see Two perfect Loves; nor lets them close: Their union would her ruine be, And her Tyrannick pow'r depose. And therefore her Decrees of Steel Us as the distant Poles have plac'd, (Though Loves whole World on us doth wheel) Not by themselves to be embrac'd. Unless the giddy- Heaven fall, And Earth some new Convulsion tear; And, us to joyn, the World should all Be cramp'd into a Planisphere. U |ndryu Marvell 39. OPREDELENIE LYUBVI CHudno Lyubvi moej nachalo I seti, chto ona splela: Ee Otchayan'e zachalo I Nevozmozhnost' rodila. Otchayan'e v svoih shchedrotah V takuyu vzmylo vysotu, CHto u Nadezhdy zheltorotoj Zastyli kryl'ya na letu. I vse zhe Celi toj, edinoj, YA, veritsya, dostich' by mog, Ne pregrazhdaj zheleznym klinom K nej kazhdyj raz puti mne - Rok. S opaskoyu vstrechat' privyk on Dvuh Dush neistovuyu Strast': Soedinis' oni - i migom Nizlozhena Tirana vlast'. Vot pochemu ego statutom My navek raz®edineny I, serdca vskruzhennye smutoj, Obnyat' drug druga ne vol'ny. Razve chto ruhnut Neba vysi V stihij poslednem myatezhe, Vse splyushchiv, i, kak tochki, sblizyat Dva polyusa - na chertezhe. 116 Andrew Marvell As Lines so Loves oblique may well Themselves in every Angle greet: But ours so truly Paralel, Though infinite can never meet. Therefore the Love which us doth bind, But Fate so enviously debarrs, Is the Conjunction of the Mind, And Opposition of the Stars. 117 |ndryu Marvell Svoi v Lyubvi est' linij hody: Kosym skrestit'sya privelos', Pryamye zhe, tayas', poodal' Legli, chtob v Vechnost' kanut' vroz'. I my - tak. I Lyubvi rozhden'e, CHej Roku nenavisten rost, Est' Dush Vzaimonahozhden'e I Protivostoyan'e Zvezd. Perevod A. M SHadrina John Dryden 40. ALEXANDER'S FEAST; OR, THE POWER OF MUSIC 'Twas at the royal feast, for Persia won By Philip's warlike son: Aloft in awful state The godlike hero sate On his imperial throne: His valiant peers were plac'd around, Their brows with roses and with myrtle bound: So should desert in arms be crown'd. The lovely Thais by his side Sat, -like a blooming Eastern bride, In flow'r of youth and beauty's pride. Happy, happy, happy pair! None but the brave, None but the brave, None but the brave deserves the fair. Timotheus, plac'd on high Amid the tuneful quire, With flying fingers touch'd the lyre: The trembling notes ascend the sky, And heavenly joys inspire. The song began from Jove; Who left his blissful seats above. (Such is the power of mighty Love!) A dragon's fiery form belied the god, Sublime on radiant spheres he rode, When he to fair Olympia press'd, And stamp'd an image of himself, a sovereign of the world. The listening crowd admire the lofty sound, A present deity! they shout around: A present deity, the vaulted roofs rebound. Dzhon Drajden 40. PIRSHESTVO ALEKSANDRA, ILI SILA GARMONII Po strashnoj bitve toj, gde car' Persidy pal, Ostavya rat', venec i zhizn' v krovavom pole, Vozvyshen vossedal, V siyan'e na prestole, Krasoyu bog, Filippov syn. Krugom - vozhdej i ratnyh chin; Vencami roz glavy uvity: Venec est' dar tebe, syn brani znamenityj! Taisa bliz carya sidit, Lyubov' ochej, vostoka divo; Kak roza,- yunyj cvet lanit, I polon strasti vzor spydlivyj. Blazhennaya cheta! Velichie s krasoyu! ' Lish' brannomu geroyu, Lish' smelomu v boyah nagradoj krasota! I zrelsya Timotej sredi poyushchih klira; Letali persty po strunam; Kak vihor', moshchnyj zvon stremilsya k nebesam; Zvuchala radostiyu lira. Ot Zevsa pesn' vedet pevec: "O vlast' lyubvi! Bogov otec, Svoi pokinuv gromy, s trona, Pod divnym obrazom drakona, Nishodit v mir; dugami v'et Ognecheshujchatyj hrebet; V nem strasti pyshet vozhdelen'e; 120 John Dryden With ravish'd ears, The monarch hears, Assumes the god, Affects to nod, And seems to shake the spheres. The praise of Bacchus then the sweet musician sung, Of Bacchus ever fair, and ever young: The jolly god in triumph comes; Sound the trumpets, beat the drums; Flush'd with a purple grace He shows his honest face. Now give the hautboys breath; he comes, he comes! Bacchus, ever, fair and young, Drinking joys did first ordain: Bacchus' blessings are a treasure, Drinking is the soldier's pleasure; Rich the treasure, Sweet the pleasure; Sweet is pleasure after pain. Sooth'd with the sound, the king grew vain, Fought all his battles o'er again, And thrice he routed all his foes, and thrice he slew the slain. The master saw the madness rise; His glowing cheeks, his ardent eyes; And, while he heav'n and earth defied, Chang'd his hand, and check'd his pride. He chose a mournful Muse, Soft pity to infuse: He sung Darius great and good, By too severe a fate, Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen, Fallen from his high estate, And welt'ring in his blood; 121 Dzhon Drajden K Olimpii letit, k grudyam ee prinik, Obvil trikraty stan - i vot Zevesov lik! Vot novyj car' zemle! Zevesovo rozhden'e!" I stroj vnimayushchih vostorgom raspalen; Klich shumnyj: Car' nash bog! I star i mlad vospryanul I zvuchno: Car' nash bog! po svodam otzyv gryanul. Car' slavoj upoen; Zrit zvezdy pod stopoyu; I myslit: on - Zeves; I dvizhet on glavoyu, I mnit - podvignul svod nebes. Hvaloyu Bahusa vosplamenilis' struny: "Gryadet, gryadet veselyj bog, Vsegda prekrasnyj, vechno yunyj. Zvuchi, kimval; razdajsya, rog; Nash Bahus svetlyj, sanovityj; Kak purpur, plamenny lanity; Zvuchi, truba! gryadet, gryadet! Iz kubkov pena s shumom b'et; Kipit v nej plamen' sladostrastnyj. Pej, voin! dar tebe sosud. O, Vakha dar bescennyj! Vinom vosplamenennyj, Zabud', syn brani, brannyj trud". I car', volnuem strun igroyu, V mechtah szyvaet rati k boyu; Trikraty vrag srazhennyj iM srazhen; Hrikraty plennyj broshen v plen. Pevec zrit gneva probuzhden'e V sverkanii ochej, vo plameni lanit; I nebu i ' zemle grozyashchu yarost' zrit... On struny ukrotil; ih zaunyvno pen'e; Edva laskaet sluh zadumchivyj ih glas, I zhalost' na strunah smirennyh rodilas'. On Dariya poet: "Car' dobryj! Car' velikij! Kto raven s nim?.. No rok svoj groznyj sud poslal; On pal, on strashno pal; Net Dariya-vladyki 122 John Dryden Deserted, at his utmost need, By those his former bounty fed, On the bare earth expos'd he lies, With not a friend to close his eyes. With downcast look the joyless victor sate, Revolving in his alter'd soul The various turns of chance below; And now and then a sigh he stole, And tears began to, flow. The mighty master smil'd to see That love was in the next degree: 'Twas but a kindred sound to move'; For pity melts the mind to love. Softly sweet, in Lydian measures, Soon he soothed his soul to pleasures, War, he sung, is toil and trouble; Honour but an empty bubble; Never ending, still beginning, Fighting still, and still destroying: If the world be worth thy winning, Think, oh think it worth enjoying! -Lovely Thais sits beside thee, Take the good the gods provide thee. The many rend the skies with loud applause; So love was crown'd, but Music won the cause. The prince, unable to conceal his pain, Gaz'd on the fair Who caused his care,- And sigh'd and look'd, sigh'd and look'd, Sigh'd and look'd, and sigh'd again, At length, with love and wine at once oppress'd The vanquish'd victor sunk upon her breast. Now strike the golden lyre again: And louder yet, and yet a louder strain.- Break his bands of sleep asunder, And rouse him, like a rattling peal of thunder, Dzhon Drajden V kipyashchej zybletsya krovi; Ot vseh zabyt v uzhasnoj dole; Net v mire dlya nego lyubvi; Hladeet na peschanom pole; Gde drug - glaza emu smezhit', I prahom siruyu glavu ego pokryt'?" Sidel geroj s ponikshimi ochami; On mysliyu priskorbnoj probegal Stezi sud'by, igrayushchej caryami; Za vzdohom vzdoh iz grudi vyletal. I prolilas' pechal' ego slezami. I divnyj pesnopevec zrit, CHto zhar lyubvi uzhe gorit V dushe, vkusivshej sozhalen'ya - I pesn' vzygral on naslazhden'ya: "Prosnis', Lidijskij brachnyj glas; Pronikni dushu, plamen' sladkoj; O, vityaz'! zhizn' - krylatyj chas; My radost' lovim zdes' ukradkoj; Letuchej peny klub zlatoj, Nadutyj pyshno i pustoj - Vot chest', nadmennyh dush zabava; Narodam kazn' geroev slava. Speshi byt' schastliv, bog zemnoj; Taisa, cvet lyubvi, s toboj; K tebe laskaetsya ochami; V grudi zhelan'ya tajnyj zhar, I dyshet strast' ee ustami. Vkusi lyubov' - bessmertnyh dar". Vosstal ot sonma klich i svody vosstenali: "Hvala i chest' lyubvi! pevcu hvala i chest'!" I polon sladostnoj pechali, Ochej ne mozhet car' zadumchivyh otvest' Ot devy, strast'yu raspalennoj; Blazhen svoej toskoj; chto vzglyad, to nezhnyj vzdoh; Gorit i gasnet vzor, zhelan'em napoennyj, I, tomnyj, pal na grud' Taisy polubog. 124 - John Dryden Hark, hark, the horrid sound Has rais'd up his head; As awak'd from the dead, And amaz'd, he stares around. Revenge, revenge, Timotheus cries, See the Furies arise, See the snakes that they rear, How they hiss in their hair, And the sparkles that flash from their eyes! Behold a ghastly band, Each a torch in his hand! Those are Grecian ghosts, that in battle were slain, And unburied remain, Inglorious on the plain; Give the vengeance due To the valiant crew. Behold how they toss their torches on high, How they point to the Persian abodes, And glitt'ring temples of their hostile gods! The princes applaud with a furious joy; And the King seiz'd a flambeau, with zeal to destroy; Thais led the way, To light him to his prey, And, like another Helen, fir'd another Troy. Thus, long ago Ere heaving bellows learn'd to blow, While organs yet were mute, Timotheus to his breathing flute And sounding lyre Could swell the soul to rage, or kindle soft desire. At last divine Cecilia came, Inventress of the vocal frame; The sweet enthusiast, from her sacred store, Knlarg'd the former narrow bounds, And added length to solemn sounds. 125 Dzhon Drajden No struny gryanuli pod sil'nymi perstami, Ih strashnyj zvon, kak s treskom padshij grom; Zvuchnej, zvuchnej... podnyalsya car'; krugom On brodit smutnymi ochami; Razrushen negi sladkij son; Ischezla prelest' vozhdelen'ya, I sluh ego razit tyazhelyj, dikij ston: "Syn brani, mshchen'ya! mshchen'ya! Pokorstvuj gnevu |vmenid; Se devy kazni! strashnyj vid! Smotri! smotri! mezh volosami Ih zmei strashnye shipyat, Sverkayut groznymi ochami, Ziyayut, zhalami blestyat... No chto? Tam blednyh tenej liki; Vozdushnyj polk na oblakah; Nesutsya... svetochi v rukah; Ih grozen vid; ih vzory diki; To voiny tvoi... srazhennym v bitve net Poslednej dani pogreben'ya; Pustynnyj vran ih trupy rvet, I voyut: mshchen'ya! mshchen'ya! Bezhit ot ih ognej pozhar po nebesam; Bedoj na Persepol' ih gnevny ochi bleshchut; Tuda pogibel' meshchut; K mecham! Bojnicy v prah! Ognyu i dom i hram!.." I sonmy vskolebalis' k brani; Na shchit i mech upali dlani; I car' pogibel'nyj svetil'nik vospalil. O gore, Persepol'! gryadet vladyka sil; Taisa, vozhd' geroyu, Elena novaya, zazhzhet druguyu Troyu. ~ak drevnej liry glas - kogda eshche molchal Organa meh chudesnyj - Perstam poslushnyj, ozhivlyal V dushe vostorg, i gnev, i chuvstva zhar prelestnyj. No dnes' druguyu zhizn' garmonii dala Sesiliya, tvorec organa. 126 John Dryden With nature's mother-wit, and arts unknown before. Let old Timotheus yield the price, Or both divide the crown; He rais'd a mortal to the skies: She drew an angel down. Dzhon Drajden Bessmertnym vymyslom hudozhnica slila Protyazhnost' s bystrotoj, zvon liry, grom timpana I pen'e nezhnyh flejt. O, drevnih let pevec, Kladi k ee stopam zaslug tvoih venec... No net! vy ravny vdohnoven'em! Im smertnyj k nebu voznesen; Na zemlyu angel nizveden Ee chudesnym sladkopen'em! Perevod V. A. ZHukovskogo Jonathan Swift 41. FROM "VERSES ON THE DEATH OF DR. SWIFT * Occasioned by reading a Maxim in Rochefoulcault: "Dans 1'adversite de nos meilleurs amis, nous trouvons toujours quelque chose, qui ne nous deplait pas." As Rochefoulcault his Maxims drew From Nature, I believe 'em true: They argue no corrupted Mind In him; the Fault is in.Mankind. This Maxim more than all the rest Is thought too base for human Breast; "In all Distresses of our Friends We first consult. our private Ends, While Nature kindly bent to ease us, Points out some Circumstance to please us." If this perhaps your Patience move Let Reason and Experience prove. We all behold with envious Eyes, Our Equal rais'd above our Size; Who wou'd not at a crowded Show, Stand high himself, keep others low? I love my Friend as well as you, But would not have him stop my View; Then let him have the higher Post; I ask but for an Inch at most. If in a Battle you should find, One, whom you love of all Mankind, Had some heroick Action done, A Champion kill'd, or Trophy won; Dzhonatan Svift 41. STIHI NA SMERTX DOKTORA SVIFTA, napisannye po prochtenii sleduyushchej sentencii iz Lafoshfuko: (Otryvok) Francuz Roshfuko "Maksimy" Dlya mnogih neperenosimy Ego branyat za zlobnyj nrav, Ne zamechaya, skol' on prav. Schitayut nizkoj klevetoyu Ego suzhdenie prostoe: "My vse,- kogda druz'ya v bede,- Pechemsya o svoej nuzhde I, sleduya blagoj prirode, Sebe priyatnost' v tom nahodim". Kto etoj mysl'yu vozmushchen, Puskaj sebya proverit on. Vseh nashih blizhnih vozvyshen'e V nas vyzyvaet razdrazhen'e. Stolpilis' lyudi; kto iz nih Ne vlez by vyshe ostal'nyh? Hot' on moj drug, no mne zavidno, Kol' vidit on, a mne ne vidno! Net, luchshe vlezt' mne samomu, CHtob videt' mne, a ne emu. Pust' nekto, stol' lyubimyj vami, CHto trudno vyrazit' slovami, 130 Jonathan Swift Rather than thus be over-topt, Would you not wish his Lawrels cropt? Dear honest Ned is in the Gout, Lies rackt with Pain, and you without: How patiently you hear him groan! How glad the Case is not your own! What Poet would not grieve to see, His Brethren write as well as he? But rather than they should excel, He'd wish his Rivals all in Hell. Her End when Emulation misses, She turns to Envy, Stings and Hisses; The strongest Friendship yields to Pride, Unless the Odds be on our Side. Vain human Kind! Fantastick Race! Thy various Follies, who can trace? Self-love, Ambition, Envy, Pride, Their Empire in our Hearts divide: Give others Riches, Power, and Station, 'Tis all on me an Usur.pation. I have no Title to aspire; Yet, when you sink, I'seem the higher. In POPE, I cannot read a Line, But with a Sigh, I wish it mine: When he can in one Couplet fix afore Sense than I can do in Six: It gives me such a jealous Fit, I cry, Pox take him, and his Wit. Why must I be outdone by GAY, In my own hum'rous biting Way? ARBUTHNOT is no more my Friend, Who dares to Irony pretend; 131 Dzhonatan Svift Proslavit v doblestnom boyu Sebya i armiyu svoyu; Neuzhto vy b ne zahoteli, CHtob eti lavry obleteli? Razbit podagroj dobryj Ned, Bednyak stradaet, vy zhe - net; Stenan'ya slyshat' tak legko vam I chuvstvovat' sebya zdorovym! Kakoj poet byvaet rad, CHto preuspel ego sobrat, I ne nahodit v tom prichiny ZHelat' soperniku konchiny? CHuzhogo prevoshodstva vid Nas razdrazhaet i gnevit, A druzhba lish' togda prelestna, Kogda sravnen'e s drugom lestno. O suetnyj, tshcheslavnyj rod! Tvoi bezumstva kto sochtet? Kovarstvo, zavist', spes', gordynya V serdcah gospodstvuyut donyne. Bogatyj, sil'nyj mezh lyudej V moih glazah vsegda zlodej. Pust' ya nichtozhen, vrode myshi, No pali vy - kazhus' povyshe. Tvorenij Popa kazhdyj slog Vo mne rozhdaet tyazhkij vzdoh: On umestit, umen i kratok, V dve strochki to, chto ya - v desyatok. Ne v silah etogo sterpet', Krichu ya: "CHtob emu sgoret'! " YA zlyus', kogda satiry Geya Moih izyashchnej i ostree. 132 Jonathan Swift Which I was born to introduce, Refin'd it first, and shew'd its Use. St.JOHN, as well as PULTNEY knows, That I had some Repute for Prose; And till they drove me out of Date, Could maul a Minister of State: If they have mortify'd my Pride, And made me throw my Pen, aside; If with such Talents Heav'n hath blest 'em Have I not Reason to detest 'em? To all my Foes, dear Fortune, send Thy Gifts, but never to my Friend; I tamely can endure the first, But, this with Envy makes me burst. Thus much may serve by way of Proem, Proceed we therefore to our Poem. 133 Dzhonatan Svift I Arbeshnot protiven mne Svoej ironiej vdvojne; Ved' ya otkryl ee znachen'e I pervyj vvel v upotreblen'e. Seit-Dzhoiu s Pultni znat' ne greh, CHto v proze ya imel uspeh, I byli dni, kogda ya bystro Umel perom srazit' ministra. Kogda zh teper' vzamen moih CHitayutsya pamflety ih, YA, prinuzhdennyj eto videt', Mogu li ih ne nenavidet'? Pust' odaren Fortunoj vdrug Nash nedrug, tol'ko by ne drug; My pervoe sterpet' gotovy, No ne perezhivem vtorogo. Tak, zavershiv prolog k poeme, My perehodim k glavnoj teme. Perevod YU. D. Levina John Gay 42. THE HARE AND MANY FRIENDS (A Fable) Friendship, like love, is but a name, Unless to one you stint the flame. The child, whom many fathers share, Hath seldom known a father's care. 'Tis thus in friendships; who depend On many, rarely find a friend. A Hare who, in a civil way, Comply'd with every thing, like Gay, Was known by all the bestial train Who haunt the wood, or graze the plain; Her care was never to offend; And every creature was her friend. As forth she went at early dawn, To taste the dew-besprinkled lawn, Behind she hears the hunter's cries, And from the deep-mouth'd thunder flies. She starts, she stops, she pants for breath; She hears the near advance of death; She doubles, to mislead the hound, And measures back her mazy round; Till, fainting in the public way, Half-dead with fear she gasping lay. What transport in her bosom grew, When first the Horse appear'd in view! "Let me,". says she, "your back ascend, And owe my safety to a friend. You know my feet betray my flight: To friendship every burthen's light." The Horse reply'd, "Poor honest Puss, It grieves my heart to see thee thus: -Be comforted, relief is near, For all your friends are in the rear." She next the stately Bull implor'd; Dzhon Gej 42. ZAYAC I EGO DRUZXYA (Basn') Znakomstvo, druzhestvo pustye sut' nazvan'ya, Kogda zavodim ih bez vsyakogo vniman'ya; Priyatelej sebe kto mnogih naberet - Edva l' i odnogo v neschastii najdet.. Odin iz zajcev svel znakomstvo so skotami, Kotorye bez rog, i s kolkimi rogami, (Opisyvat' ih zdes' net nuzhdy nikakoj) S prirodnoyu svoej serdechnoj dobrotoj Pri kazhdyh sporah ih byval na vse soglasen, I strast' imel, kak Gej, velikuyu do basen - Za chto vsyak zajchika lyubeznym nazyval I v druzhbe kazhdyj raz vstrechayas' uveryal - Pri zhizni takovoj on prygal i rezvilsya, I pred podobnymi sebe vezde gordilsya. Odnazhdy vyskochiv s zareyu na luzhok, CHtob travki poshchipat', zapryatalsya v kustok; No vdrug on slyshit laj i trub uzhasny zvuki! CHtob ne popast' emu k tiranam v -strashny ruki, Brosaetsya tuda, syuda - opyat' nazad; Povsyudu za soboj sobak zlyh vidit ryad.- Podseklis' nakonec ego ot straha nogi, Edva dysha upal sredi bol'shoj dorogi. No tut kakoj vostorg v grudi ego vosstal, Kogda idushchuyu on loshad' uvidal. Pozvol', vskrichal, o kon'! mne na tebe ukryt'sya, I tem ot vidimoj bedy osvobodit'sya, Nadezhda na tebya ostalas' mne odna, A pomoshch' vsyakaya dlya druzhby netrudna. 136 John Gay And thus reply'd the mighty lord: "Since every beast alive can tell That I sincerely wish you well, I may, without offence, pretend To take the freedom of a friend. Love calls me hemrce; a favourite cow Expects me near yon barley-mow; And, when a lady's in the case, You know, all other things give place. To leave you thus might seem unkind"- But, see, the Goat is just behind" The Goat remark'd, her pulse was high, Her languid head"her heavy eye: "My back," says he, "may do you harm; The Sheep's at hand, and wool is warm." The Sheep was feeble, and complain'd, His sides a load of wool sustain'd; Said he was slow, confess'd his fears; For Hounds eat Sheep as well as Hares. She now the trotting CaN address'', To save from death a friend distress'd. "Shall I," says he, "of tender age, In this important care engage? Older and abler pass'd you by; How strong are those! how weak am I! Should I presume to bear you hence, Those friends of mine may take offence. Excuse me, then; you know my heart; But dearest friends, alas! must part. How shall we all lament! Adieu; For, see, the Hounds are just in view." 137 Dzhon Gej YA k drugu byl vsegda raspolozhen serdechno, Skazal emu tot kon', ty znaesh' sam konechno; Da s vazhnym delom ya teper' ko l'vu idu, Utesh'sya - vot zdes' vse druz'ya tvoi v vidu! Ostavya loshad', on k byku stremglav pustilsya, No takzhe horosho i sej otgovorilsya: Vse znayut, chto tebe zhelayu ya dobra, I kak tvoj drug, skazhu: davno idti pora - Von k etoj, vidish' li, prigozhen'koj korove, Otkrylsya koej ya vchera v moej lyubvi; Mne zhal', chto ya tebya v neschastii nashel, No radujsya, k tebe idet tvoj drug kozel! Kozel, primetya v nem otmenno zhil bien'e I smertnuyu v glazah pomerklost' i tomlen'e, Moya spina tebe vredna, v otvet skazal, I na ovcu emu rogami ukazal. Ovca byla slaba, pritom zhe i boyalas', CHtob v. zuby i sama sobakam ne dostalas': K telenku nakonec v otchayan'i pribeg. No ravnoj poluchen i ot nego uspeh. Vozmozhno li, chtob ya, mlad buduchi letami, Sravnyat'sya vozmechtal s velikimi skotami? Iz nih tebe nikto ne zahotel pomoch' I vsyakij ot tebya bezhal skoree proch'; Tak mne li odnomu na pomoshch' pokusit'sya? I kak posle togo glazam ih poyavit'sya. YA plachu po tebe! - CHu! slyshu gonchih laj, Oni begut, begut! proshchaj, moj drug, proshchaj! Perevod I. Il'inskogo Alexander Pope 49. FROM oWINDSOR FOREST Above the rest a rural nymph was famed, Thy offspring, Thames! the fair Lodona named; (Lodona's fate, in long oblivion cast, The Muse shall sing, and what she sings shall last.) Scarce could the goddess from her nymph be known, But by the crescent, and the golden zone. She scorned the praise of beauty, and the care; A belt her waist, a fillet binds her hair; A painted quiver on her shoulder sounds, And with her dart the flying deer she wounds. It chanced, as eager of the chase, the maid Beyond the forest's verdant limits strayed, Pan saw and loved, and, burning with desire, Pursued her flight, her flight increased his fire. Not half so swift the trembling doves can fly, When the fierce eagle cleaves the liquid sky; Not half so swiftly the fierce eagle moves, When through the clouds he drives the trembling doves; As from the god she flew with furious pace, Or as the god, more furious, urged the chase. Now fainting, sinking, pale, the nymph appears; Now close behind, his sounding steps she hears; And now his shadow reached her as she run, His shadow lengthened by the setting sun; And now his shorter breath, with sultry air, Pants on her neck, and fans her parting hair. In vain on father Thames she calls for aid, Nor could Diana help her. injured maid. Faint, breathless, thus she prayed, nor prayed in vain: "Ah Cynthial ah - though banished from thy train, Let me, 0 let me, to the shades repair, My native shades - there weep, and murmur there." Aleksandr Pop 43. VINDZORSKIJ LES (Otryvok) Iz yunyh nimf ee doch' Tamesa, Lodona, Byla slavnee vseh; i vzor |ndimiona Lish' potomu ee s Dianoj razlichal, CHto mesyac zolotoj boginyu ukrashal. No, smertnyh i bogov plenyaya, ne plenyalas'." Odna svoboda ej s nevinnost'yu mila, I lovlya ptic, zverej - utehoyu byla. Odezhda legkaya na nimfe razvevalas', Zefir igral v ee struistyh volosah, Reznoj kolchan zvenel s strelami na plechah, I metkoe kop'e za sernoyu svistalo. Odnazhdy Pan ee uvidel, polyubil, I serdce u nego zhelan'em vospylalo. Ona bezhit... V lyubvi predmet begushchij mil, I nimfa robkaya stydlivost'yu svoeyu Dlya derzkogo eshche prelestnee byla. Kak. gorlica letit ot hishchnogo orla, Kak yarostnyj orel stremitsya vsled za neyu, Tak nimfa ot nego, tak on za nimfoj vsled - I blizhe, blizhe k nej... Ona iznemogaet, Slaba, bledna... V glazah ee temneet svet. Uzhe ten' Panova Lodonu nastigaet, I nimfa slyshit stuk nog boga za soboj, Dyhanie ego, kak veter, razvevaet Ej volosy... Togda, ostavlena sud'boj, V otchayan'i svoem neschastnaya, k bogine Dushoyu obratyas', tak myslila: "Spasi, O Cintiya! menya; v dubravy prenesi, Na rodinu moyu! Ah! Pust' ya tam otnyne Stenayu gorestno i slezy l'yu ruch'em! " Ispolnilos'... I vdrug, kak budto by slezami Izliv tosku svoyu, ona techet struyami, Stenaya zhalobno v zhurchanii svoem. 140 Alexander Pope She said, and melting as in tears she lay, In a soft silver stream dissolved away. The silver stream her virgin coldness keeps, For ever murmurs, and for ever weeps; Still bears the name the hapless virgin bore, And bathes the forest where she ranged before. In her chaste current oft the goddess laves, And with celestial tears augments the waves. Oft in her glass the musing shepherd spies The headlong mountains and the downward skies, The watery landscape of the pendant woods, And absent trees that tremble in the floods; In the clear azure gleam the flocks are seen, And floating forests paint the waves with green, Through the fair scene roll slow the lingering streams, Then foaming pour along, and rush into the Thames. 44. THE DYING CHRISTIAN TO HIS SOUL Ode Vital spark of heavenly flame! Quit, oh quit this mortal frame: Trembling, hoping, lingering, flying, Oh the pain, the bliss of dying! Cease, fond Nature, cease thy strife, And let me languish into life! II Hark! they whisper; Angels say, "Sister Spirit, come away." What is this absorbs me quite? Steals my senses, shuts my sight, Drowns my spirits, draws my breath? Tell me, my Soul, can this be Death? 141 Aleksandr Pop Potok sej i teper' Lodonoj nazyvaem. CHist, hladen, kak ona; tot les im oroshaem, Gde nimfa nekogda gulyala i zhila. Diana moetsya v ego vode kristal'noj, .I pamyat' nimfina donyne ej mila: Kogda voobrazit ee konec pechal'nyj, Strui slivayutsya s bogininoj slezoj. Pastuh, zadumavshis', zhurchan'yu ih vnimaet, Sidya pod teniyu, v nih chasto sozercaet Lunu u nog svoih i gory vniz glavoj, Plyvushchij ryad derev, nad beregom visyashchih I vodu svetluyu soboyu zelenyashchih. Sredi prekrasnyh mest izluchistym putem Lodona tihaya edva-edva struitsya, No vdrug, bystree stav v techenii svoem, Speshit s otcom .ee navek soedinit'sya. Perevod N. M. Karamzina 44. UMIRAYUSHCHIJ HRISTIANIN Nebesnogo ognya bozhestvennaya iskra, Dusha, sbros' smertnye odezhdy Boleznej, straha i nadezhdy, O, zhalkaya igra! Okovy razorvi prirody, Pari k istochniku i zhizni i svobody! Teper' tvoya pora! Vnemli, kak angely vokrug tebya veshchayut: "K nam, milaya sestra, skoree!" Moj vzor stanovitsya tusklee; YA ne mogu dyshat'; Poterya sil i chuvstv smyaten'e... -"Dusha, otvetstvuj mne, reshi moe somnen'e: Ne to li - umirat'? ... 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