ty mid region of Weir: - Well I know, now, this dank tarn of Auber - This ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir." Said we, then - the two, then - "Ah, can it Have been that the woodlandish ghouls - The pitiful, the merciful ghouls, To bar up our way and to ban it From the secret that lies in these wolds - From the thing that lies hidden in these wolds Have drawn up the spectre of a planet From the limbo of lunary souls - This sinfully scintillant planet From the Hell of the planetary souls?" (1847-1849) 36. YULALYUM Skorb' i pepel byl cvet nebosvoda, List'ya suhi i v forme sekir, List'ya skryucheny v forme sekir. Moego nezabvennogo goda, Byl oktyabr', i byl sumrachen mir. To byl kraj, gde spyat Obera vody, To byl dymno-tumannyj Uir, - Les, gde ozera Obera vody, Ved'm lyubimaya oblast' - Uir. Kiparisov alleej, kak strannik, Tam ya shel s Psiheej vdvoem, YA s dushoyu svoej shel vdvoem, Mrachnoj dumy izmuchennyj strannik. Reki myslej katilis' ognem, Slovno lava katilas' ognem, Slovno sernye reki, chto YAnik L'et u polyusa v sne ledyanom, CHto na severnom polyuse YAnik So stonom l'et podo l'dom. Razgovor nash byl - skorb' bez ishoda, Kazhdyj pomysl, kak vzmahi sekir, Pamyat' srezana vzmahom sekir: My ne pomnili mesyaca, goda (Ah, mezh godami strashnogo goda!), My zabyli, chto v sumrake mir, CHto poblizosti Obera vody (Hot' kogda-to vhodili v Uir!), CHto zdes' ozera Obera vody, Les i oblast' koldunij - Uir! Dali delalis' bledny i sery, I zarya byla yavno blizka, Po kadranu sozvezdij - blizka, Par prozrachnyj vstaval, polnya sfery, Ozaryaya tropu i luga; Vne ego polumesyac Ashery Stranno podnyal dvojnye roga, Polumesyac almaznoj Ashery CHetko podnyal dvojnye roga. YA skazal: "On nezhnee Diany. On na skorbnyh efirnyh putyah, Veselitsya na skorbnyh putyah. On uvidel v serdcah nashih rany, Nashi slezy na blednyh shchekah; On zovet nas v volshebnye strany, Skvoz' sozvezdie L'va v nebesah - K miru Lety vlechet v nebesah. On voshodit v blazhennye strany I nas manit, s lyubov'yu v ochah, Mimo logova L'va, skvoz' tumany, Manit k svetu s lyubov'yu v ochah". No, podnyavshi palec, Psiheya Prosheptala: "On stranen vdali! YA ne veryu zvezde, chto vdali! O speshim! o bezhim! o skoree! O bezhim, chtob bezhat' my mogli!" Govorila, drozha i bledneya, Uroniv svoi kryl'ya v pyli, V agonii rydala, bledneya I vlacha svoi kryl'ya v pyli, Beznadezhno vlacha ih v pyli. YA skazal: "|to tol'ko mechtan'e! Daj idti nam v drozhashchem ogne, Iskupat'sya v kristal'nom ogne. Tak, v sibillinom etom siyan'i, Krasota i nadezhda na dne! Posmotri! Svet plyvet k vyshine! O, uveruem v eto mercan'e I emu otdadimsya vpolne! Da, uveruem v eto mercan'e, I za nim vozletim k vyshine, CHerez noch' - k zolotoj vyshine!" I Psiheyu, - shepcha, - celoval ya, Uspokaival drozh' ee dum, Pobezhdal nedoverie dum, I svoj put' s nej vdvoem prodolzhal ya. No vnezapno, vysok i ugryum, Sarkofag, i vysok i ugryum, S epitafiej dver' - uvidal ya. I nevol'no, smushchen i ugryum, "CHto za nadpis' nad dver'yu?" - skazal ya. Mne v otvet: "YUlalyum! YUlalyum! To - mogila tvoej YUlalyum!" Stalo serdce - skorb' bez ishoda, Kazhdyj pomysl - kak vzmahi sekir, Pamyat' - groznye vzmahi sekir. YA vskrichal: "Pomnyu proshlogo goda |tu noch', etot mesyac, ves' mir! Pomnyu: ya zhe, s toskoj bez ishoda, Noshu strashnuyu vnes v etot mir (Noch' nochej togo strashnogo goda!). CHto za demon privel nas v Uir! Tak! to - mrachnogo Obera vody, To - vsegda tumannyj Uir! Top' i ozera Obera vody, Les i oblast' koldunij - Uir!" (1924) Perevod V. Bryusova 37. AN ENIGMA "Seldom we find", says Solomon Don Dunce, "Half an idea in the profoundest sonnet. Through all the flimsy things we see at once As easily as through a Naples bonnet - Trash of all trash! - how _can_ a lady don it? Yet heavier far than your Petrarchan stuff - Owl-downy nonsense that the faintest puff Twirls into trunk-paper the while you con it? And, veritably, Sol is right enough. The general tuckermanities are arrant Bubbles - ephemeral and _so_ transparent - But _this is_, now, - you may depend upon it - Stable, opaque, immortal - all by dint Of the dear names that lie concealed within 't. (1847) 37. |NIGMA "_S_yskat', - tak molvil Solomon Durak, N_a_m ne legko v sonete pol-idei. I ch_r_ez pustoe vidim my yasnee, CHem _r_ybin chrez neapol'skij kolpak. Suet_a_ suet! On ne pod silu damam, I vse zh, _a_h! rifm Petrarki tyazhelej. Iz fili_n_a puh legkij, veter, vzvej, - I budet o_n_, naverno, tem zhe samym". Navernyak_a_ tot Solomon byl prav; Smysl ne ve_l_ik liricheskih zabav, - CHto kolpaki _i_l' puzyri iz myla! No za sonetom _u_ menya est' sila, Bessmerten mo_j_, kak budto temnyj, stih: YA imya pomestil v slovah moih! (1924) Perevod V. Bryusova 38. THE BELLS 1. Hear the sledges with the bells - Silver bells! _What_ a world of merriment their melody foretells! How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night! While the stars that oversprinkle All the Heavens, seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight; Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the tintinabulation that so musically wells From the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells - From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells. 2. Hear the mellow wedding bells - Golden bells! _What_ a world of happiness their harmony foretells! Through the balmy air of night How they ring out their delight! - From the molten-golden notes And all in tune, What a liquid ditty floats To the turtle-dove that listens while she gloats On the moon! Oh, from out the sounding cells _What_ a gush of euphony voluminously wells! How it swells! How it dwells On the Future! - how it tells Of the rapture that impels To the swinging and the ringing Of the bells, bells, bells! - Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells - To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells! 3. Hear the loud alarum bells - Brazen bells! _What_ a tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells! In the startled ear of Night How they scream out their affright! Too much horrified to speak, They can only shriek, shriek, Out of tune, In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire - In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire, Leaping higher, higher, higher, With a desperate desire And a resolute endeavor Now - now to sit, or never, By the side of the pale-faced moon. Oh, the bells, bells, bells! What a tale their terror tells Of despair! How they clang and clash and roar! What a horror they outpour In the bosom of the palpitating air! Yet the ear, it fully knows, By the twanging And the clanging, How the danger ebbs and flows: - Yes, the ear distinctly tells, In the jangling And the wrangling, How the danger sinks and swells, By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells - Of the bells - Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells - In the clamor and the clangor of the bells! 4. Hear the tolling of the bells - Iron bells! _What_ a world of solemn thought their monody compels! In the silence of the night How we shiver with affright At the melancholy meaning of the tone! For every sound that floats From the rust within their throats Is a groan. And the people - ah, the people They that dwell up in the steeple All alone, And who, tolling, tolling, tolling, In that muffled monotone, Fell a glory in so rolling On the human heart a stone - They are neither man nor woman - They are neither brute nor human, They are Ghouls: - And their king it is who tolls: - And he rolls, rolls, rolls, rolls A Paean from the bells! And his merry bosom swells With the Paean of the bells! And he dances and he yells; Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the Paean of the bells - Of the bells: - Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the throbbing of the bells - Of the bells, bells, bells - To the sobbing of the bells: - Keeping time, time, time, As he knells, knells, knells, In a happy Runic rhyme, To the rolling of the bells - Of the bells, bells, bells: - To the tolling of the bells - Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells - To the moaning and the groaning of the bells. (1849) 38. KOLOKOLXCHIKI I KOLOKOLA 1. Slyshish', sani mchatsya v ryad, Mchatsya v ryad! Kolokol'chiki zvenyat, Serebristym legkim zvonom sluh nash sladostno tomyat, |tim pen'em i guden'em o zabven'i govoryat. O, kak zvonko, zvonko, zvonko, Tochno zvuchnyj smeh rebenka, V yasnom vozduhe nochnom Govoryat oni o tom, CHto za dnyami zabluzhden'ya Nastupaet vozrozhden'e, CHto volshebno naslazhden'e - naslazhden'e nezhnym snom. Sani mchatsya, mchatsya v ryad, Kolokol'chiki zvenyat, Zvezdy slushayut, kak sani, ubegaya, govoryat, I, vnimaya im, goryat, I mechtaya, i blistaya, v nebe duhami paryat; I izmenchivym siyan'em Molchalivym obayan'em, Vmeste s zvonom, vmeste s pen'em, o zabven'i govoryat. 2. Slyshish' k svad'be zvon svyatoj, Zolotoj! Skol'ko nezhnogo blazhenstva v etoj pesne molodoj! Skvoz' spokojnyj vozduh nochi Slovno smotryat ch'i-to ochi I blestyat, I v volny pevuchih zvukov na lunu oni glyadyat. Iz prizyvnyh divnyh kelij, Polny skazochnyh veselij, Narastaya, upadaya, bryzgi svetlye letyat. Vnov' potuhnut, vnov' blestyat, I ronyayut svetlyj vzglyad Na gryadushchee, gde dremlet bezmyatezhnost' nezhnyh snov. Vozveshchaemyh soglas'em zolotyh kolokolov! 3. Slyshish', voyushchij nabat, Tochno stonet mednyj ad! |ti zvuki, v dikoj muke, skazku uzhasov tverdyat. Tochno molyat im pomoch', Krik kidayut pryamo v noch', Pryamo v ushi temnoj nochi Kazhdyj zvuk, To dlinnee, to koroche, Vyklikaet svoj ispug, - I ispug ih tak velik, Tak bezumen kazhdyj krik, CHto razorvannye zvony, nesposobnye zvuchat', Mogut tol'ko bit'sya, vit'sya, i krichat', krichat', krichat'! Tol'ko plakat' o poshchade, I k pylayushchej gromade Vopli skorbi obrashchat'! A mezh tem ogon' bezumnyj, I gluhoj i mnogoshumnyj, Vse gorit, To iz okon, to po kryshe, Mchitsya vyshe, vyshe, vyshe, I kak budto govorit: YA hochu Vyshe mchat'sya, razgorat'sya, vstrechu lunnomu luchu, Il' umru, il' totchas-totchas vplot' do mesyaca vzlechu! O, nabat, nabat, nabat, Esli b ty vernul nazad |tot uzhas, eto plamya, etu iskru, etot vzglyad, |tot pervyj vzglyad ognya, O kotorom ty veshchaesh', s plachem, s voplem, i zvenya! A teper' nam net spasen'ya, Vsyudu plamya i kipen'e, Vsyudu strah i vozmushchen'e! Tvoj prizyv, Dikih zvukov nesoglasnost' Vozveshchaet nam opasnost', To rastet beda gluhaya, to spadaet, kak priliv! Sluh nash chutko lovit volny v peremene zvukovoj, Vnov' spadaet, vnov' rydaet medno-stonushchij priboj! 4. Pohoronnyj slyshen zvon, Dolgij zvon! Gor'koj skorbi slyshny zvuki, gor'koj zhizni konchen son. Zvuk zheleznyj vozveshchaet o pechali pohoron! I nevol'no my drozhim, Ot zabav svoih speshim I rydaem, vspominaem, chto i my glaza smezhim. Neizmenno-monotonnyj, |tot vozglas otdalennyj, Pohoronnyj tyazhkij zvon, Tochno ston, Skorbnyj, gnevnyj, I plachevnyj, Vyrastaet v dolgij gul, Vozveshchaet, chto stradalec neprobudnym snom usnul. V kolokol'nyh kel'yah rzhavyh, On dlya pravyh i nepravyh Grozno vtorit ob odnom: CHto na serdce budet kamen', chto glaza somknutsya snom. Fakel traurnyj gorit, S kolokol'ni kto-to kriknul, kto-to gromko govorit, Kto-to chernyj tam stoit, I hohochet, i gremit, I gudit, gudit, gudit, K kolokol'ne pripadaet, Gulkij kolokol kachaet, Gulkij kolokol rydaet, Stonet v vozduhe nemom I protyazhno vozveshchaet o pokoe grobovom. (1895) Perevod K. Bal'monta 39. TO HELEN I saw thee once - once only - years ago: I must not say _how_ many - but _not_ many. It was a July midnight; and from out A full-orbed moon, that, like thine own soul, soaring, Sought a precipitate pathway up through heaven, There fell a silvery-silken veil of light, With quietude, and sultriness, and slumber, Upon the upturn'd faces of a thousand Roses that grew in an enchanted garden, Where no wind dared to stir, unless on tiptoe - Fell on the upturn'd faces of these roses That gave out, in return for the love-light, Their odorous souls in an ecstatic death - Fell on the upturn'd faces of these roses That smiled and died in this parterre, enchanted By thee, and by the poetry of thy presence. Clad all in white, upon a violet bank I saw thee half reclining; while the moon Fell on the upturn'd faces of the roses, And on thine own, upturn'd - alas, in sorrow! Was it not Fate, that, on this July midnight - Was it not Fate, (whose name is also Sorrow), That bade me pause before that garden-gate, To breathe the incense of those slumbering roses? No footstep stirred: the hated world all slept, Save only thee and me. (Oh, Heaven! - oh, God! How my heart beats in coupling those two words!) Save only thee and me. I paused - I looked - And in an instant all things disappeared. (Ah, bear in mind this garden was enchanted!) The pearly lustre of the moon went out: The mossy banks and the meandering paths, The happy flowers and the repining trees, Were seen no more: the very roses' odors Died in the arms of the adoring airs. All - all expired save thee - save less than thou: Save only the divine light in thine eyes - Save but the soul in thine uplifted eyes. I saw but them - they were the world to me. I saw but them - saw only them for hours - Saw only them until the moon went down. What wild heart-histories seemed to lie enwritten Upon those crystalline, celestial spheres! How dark a wo! yet how sublime a hope! How silently serene a sea of pride! How daring an ambition! yet how deep - How fathomless a capacity for love! But now, at length, dear Dian sank from sight, Into a western couch of thunder-cloud; And thou, a ghost, amid the entombing trees Didst glide away. _Only thine eyes remained_. They _would not go_ - they never yet have gone. Lighting my lonely pathway home that night, _They_ have not left me (as my hopes have) since. They follow me - they lead me through the years. They are my ministers - yet I their slave. Their office is to illumine and enkindle - My duty, _to be saved_ by their bright light, And purified in their electric fire, And sanctified in their elysian fire. They fill my soul with Beauty (which is Hope,) And are far up in Heaven - the stars I kneel to In the sad, silent watches of my night; While even in the meridian glare of day I see them still - two sweetly scintillant Venuses, unextinguished by the sun! (1848-1849) 39. K ELENE Tebya ya videl raz, lish' raz; shli gody; Skazat' ne smeyu skol'ko, no ne mnogo. To byl Iyul' i polnoch'; i ot polnoj Luny, chto, kak tvoya dusha, bluzhdaya Iskala put' pryamoj po nebesam, - Srebristo-shelkovym pokrovom sveta, Spokojstvie, i znoj, i son spadali Na podnyatye liki tysyach roz, V sadu volshebnom vyrosshih, gde veter Smel probegat' na cypochkah edva, - Na podnyatye lica roz spadali, Struivshih, kak otvet na svet lyubovnyj V bezumnoj smerti, aromat dushi, - Na lica roz spadali, chto smeyalis' I umirali v tom sadu, zaklyatom Toboj i charoj blizosti tvoej. Odetoj v belom, na kovre fialok, Tebya lezhashchej videl ya; svet lunnyj Skol'zil na podnyatye lica roz I na tvoe, - ah! podnyatoe s grust'yu. Byla l' Sud'ba - ta polnoch', tot Iyul', Byla l' Sud'ba (chto imenuyut Skorb'yu), CHto povelela mne u vhoda medlit', Vdyhaya aromaty sonnyh roz? Ni shaga vkrug; proklyatyj mir - dremal, Lish' ty i ya ne spali (bozhe! nebo! Kak b'etsya serdce, edinya dva slova). Lish' ty i ya ne spali. YA smotrel, I v mig edinyj vse vokrug ischezlo (O, ne zabud', chto sad byl tot - volshebnyj!), Luny pogasli perlovye blestki, Skam'i iz moha, sputannye tropki, Schastlivye cvety, derev'ya v grusti, - Vse, vse ischezlo; dazhe zapah roz V ob®yat'yah aromatnyh vzdohov umer. Ischezlo vse, - ostalas' ty, - net, men'she, CHem ty: lish' divnyj svet - ochej tvoih, Dusha tvoih vzvedennyh v vys' ochej. Lish' ih ya videl: to byl - ves' moj mir; Lish' ih ya videl; vse chasy lish' ih, Lish' ih, poka luna ne zakatilas'. O, skol'ko strashnyh skazok serdca bylo Napisano na teh kristal'nyh sferah! CHto za toska! No chto za upovan'ya! I chto za more gordosti bezmolvnoj! Otvazhnoj gordosti, i nesravnennoj Glubokoj sily rokovoj Lyubvi! Vot, nakonec, Diana, naklonyayas' Na zapad, sterla grozovye tuchi; Ty, prizrak, mezh derev'ev osenyavshih Tebya, ischezla. Lish' glaza ostalis', Ne uhodili, - ne ushli vovek, Mne osveshchaya odinokij k domu Moj put', svetili (kak nadezhdy) - vechno. Oni so mnoj vedut menya skvoz' gody, Mne sluzhat, mezhdu tem ya sam - ih rab; Ih delo - obeshchat', vosplamenyat' Moj dolg; spasaem ya ih yarkim bleskom, Ih elektricheskim ognem ochishchen, YA osveshchen ognem ih elisejskim. Mne napolnyaya dushu Krasotoj (Ona zh - Nadezhda), svetyat v nebe - zvezdy, CHto na kolenyah chtu v nochnyh tomlen'yah; No vizhu ih i v polnom bleske poldnya, Vsegda ih vizhu, - bleshchushchie nezhno Venery dve, chto ne zatmit i solnce. (1924) Perevod V. Bryusova 40. FOR ANNIE Thank Heaven! the crisis - The danger is past, And the lingering illness Is over at last - And the fever called "Living" Is conquered at last. Sadly, I know I am shorn of my strength, And no muscle I move As I lie at full length - But no matter! - I feel I am better at length. And I rest so composedly, Now, in my bed, That any beholder Might fancy me dead - Might start at beholding me, Thinking me dead. The moaning and groaning, The sighing and sobbing, Are quieted now, With that horrible throbbing At heart: - ah, that horrible, Horrible throbbing! The sickness - the nausea - The pitiless pain - Have ceased, with the fever That maddened my brain - With the fever called "Living" That burned in my brain. And oh! of all tortures _That_ torture the worst Has abated - the terrible Torture of thirst For the napthaline river Of Passion accurst: - I have drank of a water That quenches all thirst: - Of a water that flows, With a lullaby sound, From a spring but a very few Feet under ground - From a cavern not very far Down under ground. And ah! let it never Be foolishly said That my room it is gloomy And narrow my bed; For man never slept In a different bed - And, to _sleep_, you must slumber In just such a bed. My tantalized spirit Here blandly reposes, Forgetting, or never Regretting its roses - Its old agitations Of myrtles and roses: For now, while so quietly Lying, it fancies A holier odor About it, of pansies - A rosemary odor, Commingled with pansies - With rue and the beautiful Puritan pansies. And so it lies happily, Bathing in many A dream of the truth And the beauty of Annie - Drowned in a bath Of the tresses of Annie. She tenderly kissed me, She fondly caressed, And then I fell gently To sleep on her breast - Deeply to sleep From the heaven of her breast. When the light was extinguished, She covered me warm, And she prayed to the angels To keep me from harm - To the queen of the angels To shield me from harm. And I lie so composedly, Now, in my bed, (Knowing her love) That you fancy me dead - And I rest so contentedly, Now in my bed, (With her love at my breast) That you fancy me dead - That you shudder to look at me, Thinking me dead: - But my heart it is brighter Than all of the many Stars in the sky, For it sparkles with Annie - It glows with the light Of the love of my Annie - With the thought of the light Of the eyes of my Annie. (1849) 40. K ANNI Hvalenie nebu! Opasnost' proshla, Tomlen'e ischezlo, I mgla lish' byla, Goryachka, chto "ZHizn'yu" Zovetsya - proshla. Priskorbno, ya znayu, Lishilsya ya sil, Ne sdvinus', ne stronus', Lezhu, vse zabyl - No chto v tom! - teper' ya Dovol'nej, chem byl. V posteli, spokojnyj Lezhu nakonec, Kto glyanet, tot drognet, Pomyslit - mertvec, Uzrev menya, vzdrognet, Podumav - mertvec. Rydan'ya, stenan'ya, I vzdohi, i peni, Spokojny teper', I eto terzan'e, Tam v serdce: - terzan'e, S bieniem v dver'. Durnotnye pytki Bezzhalostnyh char Ischezli s goryachkoj, Razveyan ugar, S goryachkoyu "ZHizn'yu", CHto zhzhet, kak pozhar. Iz pytok, ch'e zhalo Ostrej, chem zmei, Vseh pytok strashnee, CHto est' v bytii, - O, zhazhda, o, zhazhda Proklyatyh strastej, To gornye smoly, Kipuchij ruchej. No _eto_ utihlo, Ispil ya ot vod, CHto gasyat vsyu zhazhdu: - Ta vlaga poet, Techet kolybel'yu Ona pod zemlej, Iz temnoj peshchery, Struej klyuchevoj, Ne ochen' daleko, Vot tut pod zemlej. I o! da ne skazhut, V oshibke slepoj - YA v uzkoj posteli, V temnice gluhoj: - CHelovek i ne spal ved' V posteli drugoj - I kol' _spat'_, tak uzh nuzhno Byt' v posteli takoj. Izmuchennyj duh moj Zdes' v tihosti grez, Zabyl, ili bol'she Ne zhaleet on roz, |tih staryh volnenij Mirt i pahnushchih roz: - Potomu chto, spokojnyj Leleya privet, Zapah luchshij vdyhaet on - Troicyn cvet, Rozmarin s nim slivaet Aromat svoj i svet - I ruta - i krasivyj on, Troicyn cvet. I lezhit on schastlivyj, Vidya svetlye sny, O pravdivosti Anni, O krasivoj te sny, Nezhno, lokony Anni V eti sny vpleteny. Sladko tak celovala - "Zadremli - ne glyadi" - I usnul ya tihon'ko U nee na grudi, Zacharovannyj laskoj Na nebesnoj grudi. S ugasaniem sveta Tak ukryla teplo, I molila nebesnyh, Da razveyut vse zlo, Da carica nebesnyh Proch' otveet vse zlo. I lezhu ya v posteli, I utih nakonec (Ibo znayu, chto lyubit), V vashih myslyah - mertvec. A lezhu ya dovol'nyj, Tishina - moj venec, (Na grudi moej - laska), Vy zhe mnite - mertvec, Vy glyadite, drozhite, Myslya - vot, on mertvec. No yarchej moe serdce Vseh nebesnyh luchej, V serdce iskritsya Anni, Zvezdy nezhnyh ochej, Serdce rdeet ot sveta Nezhnoj Anni moej, Vse lyubov'yu odeto Svetloj Anni moej! (1911) Perevod K. Bal'monta 41. ELDORADO Gaily bedight, A gallant knight, In sunshine and in shadow, Had journeyed long, Singing a song, In search of Eldorado. But he grew old - This knight so bold - And o'er his heart a shadow Fell, as he found No spot of ground That looked like Eldorado. And, as his strength Failed him at length He met a pilgrim shadow - "Shadow", said he, "Where can it be - This land of Eldorado?" "Over the Mountains Of the Moon, Down the Valley of the Shadow, Ride, boldly ride", The shade replied, - "If you seek for Eldorado!" (1849) 41. |LXDORADO Mezhdu gor i dolin Edet rycar' odin, Nikogo emu v mire ne nado. On vse edet vpered, On vse pesnyu poet, On zamyslil najti |l'dorado. No v skitan'yah - odin Dozhil on do sedin, I pogasla bylaya otrada. Ezdil rycar' vezde, No ne vstretil nigde, Ne nashel on nigde |l'dorado. I kogda on ustal, Pred skital'cem predstal Strannyj prizrak - i shepchet: "CHto nado?" Totchas rycar' emu: "Rasskazhi, ne pojmu, Ukazhi, gde strana |l'dorado?" I otvetila Ten': "Gde rozhdaetsya den', Lunnyh Gor gde chut' zrima gromada. CHerez ad, cherez raj, Vse vpered poezzhaj, Esli hochesh' najti |l'dorado!" (1899) Perevod K. Bal'monta 42. TO MY MOTHER Because I feel that, in the Heavens above, The angels, whispering to one another, Can find, among their burning terms of love, None so devotional as that of "Mother", Therefore by that dear name I long have called you - You who are more than mother unto me, And fill my heart of hearts, where Death installed you In setting my Virginia's spirit free. My mother - my own mother, who died early, Was but the mother of myself; but you Are mother to the one I loved so dearly, And thus are dearer than the mother I knew By that infinity with which my wife Was dearer to my soul than its soul-life. (1849) 42. K MOEJ MATERI Kogda v Rayu, gde dyshit blagodat', Nezdeshneyu lyuboviyu tomimy, Drug drugu nezhno shepchut serafimy, U nih net slov nezhnej, chem slovo Mat'. I potomu-to pylko vozlyubila Moya dusha tebya tak zvat' vsegda, Ty bol'she mne, chem mat', s teh por, kogda Virginiya naveki opochila. Moya rodnaya mat' mne zhizn' dala, No rano, slishkom rano umerla. I ya tebya kak mat' lyublyu, - no Bozhe! Naskol'ko ty mne bolee rodna, Nastol'ko, kak byla moya zhena Moej dushe - moej dushi dorozhe! (1901) Perevod K. Bal'monta 43. ANNABEL LEE It was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea,