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Важно учить как делать минет Daisy Stone
Роберт Геррик (1591 - 1674). Н-1015.Незаконные дети Бастарды наши – это точно кроны, Заделал что Чеканщик незаконно.
Robert Herrick
1015. Bastards Our Bastard-children are but like to Plate, Made by the Coyners illegitimate.
Percy Bysshe Shelley From THE REVOLT OF ISLAM (A poem in twelve cantos) [Composed in the neighbourhood of Bisham Wood, near Great Marlow, Bucks, 1817 (April-September 23); printed, with title (dated 1818), "Laon and Cythna; or, The Revolution of the Golden City: A Vision of the Nineteenth Century", October, November, 1817, but suppressed, pending revision, by the publishers, C & J. Ollier. Published, with a fresh title-page and twenty-seven cancel-leaves, as "The Revolt of Islam", January 10, 1818. Sources of the text are (1) "Laon and Cythna", 1818; (2) "The Revolt of Islam", 1818; (3) "Poetical Works", 1839, editions 1st and 2nd—both edited by Mrs. Shelley.] CANTO 9. 21. 'The blasts of Autumn drive the winged seeds Over the earth,--next come the snows, and rain, _3650 And frosts, and storms, which dreary Winter leads Out of his Scythian cave, a savage train; Behold! Spring sweeps over the world again, Shedding soft dews from her ethereal wings; Flowers on the mountains, fruits over the plain, _3655 And music on the waves and woods she flings, And love on all that lives, and calm on lifeless things. 22. 'O Spring, of hope, and love, and youth, and gladness Wind-winged emblem! brightest, best and fairest! Whence comest thou, when, with dark Winter's sadness _3660 The tears that fade in sunny smiles thou sharest? Sister of joy, thou art the child who wearest Thy mother's dying smile, tender and sweet; Thy mother Autumn, for whose grave thou bearest Fresh flowers, and beams like flowers, with gentle feet,_3665 Disturbing not the leaves which are her winding-sheet.
Аллен ТЭЙТ (1899 – 1979) Грани Я удивлялся ей - она смеялась, Мой удивлённый взгляд распознавая. Сочли бы бесполезными маневры белых рук – Моих коснуться рук, их отпуская. Когда же мы однажды расставались, Одним деревьям приумолкшим ведомы, Её касался пальцев невзначай Я, неспроста уловкам этим преданный. Достало пустоты нам недосказанной, Скажу, мы с ней разведены судьбой. И всё ж, я удивлялся ей - вновь улыбалась, Узрев подобье бездны пред собой. Санкт-Петербург, 13.10.2014 Allen TATE Edges I've often wondered why she laughed On thinking why I wondered so; It seemed such waste that long white hands Should touch my hands and let them go. And once when we were parting there, Unseen of anything but trees, I touched her fingers, thoughtfully, For more than simple niceties. But for some futile things unsaid I should say all is done for us; Yet I have wondered how she smiled Beholding what was cavernous.
["Hellas" was composed at Pisa in the autumn of 1821, and dispatched to London, November 11. It was published, with the author's name, by C. & J. Ollier in the spring of 1822. A transcript of the poem by Edward Williams is in the Rowfant Library. Ollier availed himself of Shelley's permission to cancel certain passages in the notes; he also struck out certain lines of the text. These omissions were, some of them, restored in Galignani's one-volume edition of "Coleridge, Shelley and Keats", Paris, 1829, and also by Mrs. Shelley in the "Poetical Works", 1839. A passage in the "Preface", suppressed by Ollier, was restored by Mr. Buxton Forman (1892) from a proof copy of "Hellas" in his possession. The "Prologue to Hellas" was edited by Dr. Garnett in 1862 ("Relics of Shelley") from the manuscripts at Boscombe Manor. Our text is that of the editio princeps, 1822, corrected by a list of "Errata" sent by Shelley to Ollier, April 11, 1822. The Editor's Notes at the end of Volume 3 should be consulted.]
SEMICHORUS 1:
Life may change, but it may fly not;
Hope may vanish, but can die not; _35
Truth be veiled, but still it burneth;
Love repulsed,--but it returneth!
SEMICHORUS 2:
Yet were life a charnel where
Hope lay coffined with Despair;
Yet were truth a sacred lie, _40
Love were lust--
SEMICHORUS 1:
If Liberty
Lent not life its soul of light,
Hope its iris of delight,
Truth its prophet's robe to wear,
Love its power to give and bear. _45
L.Carroll From Alice's Adventures in Wonderland (Chapter V)
`You are old, Father William,' the young man said,
`And your hair has become very white;
And yet you incessantly stand on your head--
Do you think, at your age, it is right?'
`In my youth,' Father William replied to his son,
`I feared it might injure the brain;
But, now that I'm perfectly sure I have none,
Why, I do it again and again.'
`You are old,' said the youth, `as I mentioned before,
And have grown most uncommonly fat;
Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door--
Pray, what is the reason of that?'
`In my youth,' said the sage, as he shook his grey locks,
`I kept all my limbs very supple
By the use of this ointment--one shilling the box--
Allow me to sell you a couple?'
`You are old,' said the youth, `and your jaws are too weak
For anything tougher than suet;
Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak--
Pray how did you manage to do it?'
`In my youth,' said his father, `I took to the law,
And argued each case with my wife;
And the muscular strength, which it gave to my jaw,
Has lasted the rest of my life.'
`You are old,' said the youth, `one would hardly suppose
That your eye was as steady as ever;
Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose--
What made you so awfully clever?'
`I have answered three questions, and that is enough,'
Said his father; `don't give yourself airs!
Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?
Be off, or I'll kick you down stairs!'
L.Carroll From Alice's Adventures in Wonderland (Chapter X)
"Will you walk a little faster?" said a whiting to a snail.
"There's a porpoise close behind us, and he's treading on my tail.
See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance!
They are waiting on the shingle--will you come and join the dance?
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the dance?
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you join the dance?
"You can really have no notion how delightful it will be
When they take us up and throw us, with the lobsters, out to sea!"
But the snail replied "Too far, too far!" and gave a look askance--
Said he thanked the whiting kindly, but he would not join the dance.
Would not, could not, would not, could not, would not join the dance.
Would not, could not, would not, could not, could not join the dance.
`"What matters it how far we go?" his scaly friend replied.
"There is another shore, you know, upon the other side.
The further off from England the nearer is to France--
Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance.
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the dance?
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you join the dance?"'
***
"'Tis the voice of the Lobster; I heard him declare,
"You have baked me too brown, I must sugar my hair."
As a duck with its eyelids, so he with his nose
Trims his belt and his buttons, and turns out his toes.'
[later editions continued as follows
When the sands are all dry, he is gay as a lark,
And will talk in contemptuous tones of the Shark,
But, when the tide rises and sharks are around,
His voice has a timid and tremulous sound.]
***
`I passed by his garden, and marked, with one eye,
How the Owl and the Panther were sharing a pie--'
[later editions continued as follows
The Panther took pie-crust, and gravy, and meat,
While the Owl had the dish as its share of the treat.
When the pie was all finished, the Owl, as a boon,
Was kindly permitted to pocket the spoon:
While the Panther received knife and fork with a growl,
And concluded the banquet--]
***
`Beautiful Soup, so rich and green,
Waiting in a hot tureen!
Who for such dainties would not stoop?
Soup of the evening, beautiful Soup!
Soup of the evening, beautiful Soup!
Beau--ootiful Soo--oop!
Beau--ootiful Soo--oop!
Soo--oop of the e--e--evening,
Beautiful, beautiful Soup!
`Beautiful Soup! Who cares for fish,
Game, or any other dish?
Who would not give all else for two p
ennyworth only of beautiful Soup?
Pennyworth only of beautiful Soup?
Beau--ootiful Soo--oop!
Beau--ootiful Soo--oop!
Soo--oop of the e--e--evening,
Beautiful, beauti--FUL SOUP!'
Роберт Геррик(1591 - 1674). На Хорна, резчика гребней. ( 597.Of Horne a
Comb-maker. )*
Хорн зубы продаёт, своих же на беду
Не сыщет, ублажить десну или м..ду.
*
"Appendix of epigrams"/"Приложение к эпиграммам", опубл.
1898г.
Robert Herrick
597.Of Horne a
Comb-maker.
Horne sells to others
teeth; but has not one
To grace his own Gums, or of Box, or bone.
Катарине
де Мэттос
Связи горестно утратить, что Господь нам
завещал -
Мы - скорлупки в бурном море,
сторонящиеся скал.
Удаляемся от дома - на чужбине я и ты.
Так ракитник скорбный гнётся в топях
северной страны.
To Katharine de Mattos
It’s
ill to loose that bands that God dacreed to bind;
Still will we be the children of the heather
and the wind.
Far
away from home, O it’s for you and me
That the broom is blowing bonnie in
the north countrie.
Роберт Геррик(1591 - 1674). На Линнита.Эпиграмма (381.Upon Linnit. Epig.)*
Линнет** играет иногда на лютне, знаем,
Поёт он сладко; но дыханье - отрицает.
На лютне "Коноплянка" иногда играет,
Поёт он сладко; но дыханье - отрицает.
* "Appendix of epigrams"/"Приложение к эпиграммам", опубл.
1898г.
** Р.Геррик в тексте эпиграммы имя Linnit слегка изменяет, превращая в Linnet,
"Коноплянку".
Robert Herrick
381.Upon Linnit. Epig.
Linnet plays rarely on the Lute, we know;
And sweetly sings, but yet his breath says no.
Эдна Миллей (1892-1950) Сонет 113 (44)
Оставленной, когда б одной остаться,
Дверь запереть, вновь обрести себя,
Свои Пенаты, что в углу пылятся,
Достать, и протереть их, теребя ...
Отведай Брамса, Чосера, исчисли
Позицию в классическом этюде,
Мозг ссохший растяни на дыбе мысли –
Потеря - благо, по итогам судя.
Но разговор пустой в бесплодном поле,
Умов незрелых доводов плешивых,
Вербует свет дневной, колебля волю
Ослабшую, чтобы покой осилить.
Я не с тобой или собой зависла
Средь дней глумливых без конца и смысла.
Санкт-Петербург, 3 ноября 2018
Edna St.Vincent Millay Sonnet 113 (44)
If to be left were to be left alone,
And lock the door, and find one's self again,
Drag forth and dust Penates of one's own,
That in a corner all too long have lain;
Read Brahms, read Chaucer, set the chessmen out
In classic problem, stretch the shrunken mind
Back to its stature on the rack of thought -
Loss might be said to leave its boon behind.
But fruitless conversation and the exchange
With callow wits of bearded cons and pros
Enlist the neutral daylight, and derange
A will too sick to battle for repose.
Neither with you nor with myself, I spend
Loud days that have no meaning and no end.
С улыбкой Нимфа, взглядами украдкой,
В каком из сч а стливых
моментов дня
Сквозь звуки лабиринта речи сладкой?
Иль странствуешь когда беспечно в трансе
Разумности? Иль утром луч ловя,
Когда щадишь цветы в невольном танце?
Снова внимая, словно бы в лобзанье,
Пленять – твоё прелестное призванье, –
Скажу, я нрава лучше не постиг.
Санкт-Петербург,
31 окт. 2018
John Keats Sonnet [26] . To G. A. W.
[Georgiana Augusta Wylie.]
NYMPH of the downward smile, and sidelong glance,
In what diviner moments of the day
Art thou most lovely? When gone far astray
Into the labyrinths of sweet utterance?
Or when serenely wand’ring in a trance
5
Of sober thought? Or when starting away,
With careless robe, to meet the morning ray,
Thou spar’st the flowers in thy mazy dance?
Haply ’tis when thy ruby lips part sweetly,
And so remain, because thou listenest:
10
But thou to please wert nurtured so completely
That I can never tell what mood is best.
I shall as soon pronounce which grace more neatly
Trips it before Apollo than the rest.
Роберт Геррик (1591 - 1674). Сдержанность
(H-780)
Король, пора сдержаться, наконец:
Стриги, но шкуру не сдирай с
овец.
Санкт-Петербург, 28 октября 2018
Robert Herrick
780 . MODERATION
In things a moderation keep:
"Kings ought to shear, not skin their sheep".
[Опубликовано миссис Шелли,
"Посмертные стихи", 1824, и от "Января 1822 года"
Существует копия среди рукописей Боскомб.]
Безоблачно, прозрачный воздух стынет:
Грущу о красоте, - так море схлынет
Оставив враз песчаный берег влажный
Поблекших среди лжи у лести на часах.
Смерть не прервёт бессмертие твоё.¹
Из вас земных, хоть к людям я привержен,
Как к сердцу сердце средь людей подчас;--
Люблю, - кого, не знаю - в низших сферах
На Небе иль Земле - всё жду, любя -
Ни Небу ни Земле, в чьих формах всех
Исток твой, не сдержать тебя, не скрыть;
Всё в Бога претворишь - и низ и верх,
В полёте холодна, как призрак неземной,
Бледна, как солнце с зарожденьем ночи.
В ветрах, деревьях, лишь глаза открой
И в музыке, и среди красок буйства,
Животных, как и тех, чей глас людской
Стал выражать их собственные чувства;
В движеньях нежных, и в улыбке кроткой,
В цветах, листве, траве, с дождём в придачу,
Презрев закон природы, как влюблённый
Не портит, губит жалость; и покрыла
Чистой росы слеза прибрежный страж.
Принёс, заполнив вазу почвой лёгкой;
Упал через окно, хлад, удержав за шторкой,
Вчерашние в честь Дня, чья колесница
На горизонте, в волнах света поздних
Тугих листков и - усики в дрожаньи,
Все импульсы вдруг притворив без меры
Росло растенье сильным и прекрасным
Без солнца, чьих улыбок тщетно ждёшь;
Всю зиму я над ним проплакал - властно
Струились слёзы, как небесный дождь
За часом час; и вслед за скорбной песнью
Извне декабрь хрустальный чинно звякал;
Устам почившим скажешь ли - воскресни
Утратив сердце лишь того, кто плакал?
Дрожали птицы средь безлистных крон,
¹ - после двух октав,
автор перевода изменил форму строфы.
[Published
by Mrs. Shelley, "Posthumous Poems", 1824, and dated
'January,
1822.' There is a copy amongst the Boscombe manuscripts.]
Summer
was dead and Autumn was expiring,
And
infant Winter laughed upon the land
All
cloudlessly and cold;—when I, desiring
More in
this world than any understand,
Wept o'er
the beauty, which, like sea retiring,
Had left
the earth bare as the wave-worn sand
Of my
lorn heart, and o'er the grass and flowers
Pale for
the falsehood of the flattering Hours.
Summer
was dead, but I yet lived to weep
The
instability of all but weeping;
And on
the Earth lulled in her winter sleep
I woke,
and envied her as she was sleeping.
Too happy
Earth! over thy face shall creep
The
wakening vernal airs, until thou, leaping
From
unremembered dreams, shalt … see
I
loved—oh, no, I mean not one of ye,
Or any
earthly one, though ye are dear
As human heart
to human heart may be;—
I loved,
I know not what—but this low sphere
And all
that it contains, contains not thee,
Thou,
whom, seen nowhere, I feel everywhere.
From
Heaven and Earth, and all that in them are,
By Heaven
and Earth, from all whose shapes thou flowest, _25
Neither
to be contained, delayed, nor hidden;
Making
divine the loftiest and the lowest,
When for
a moment thou art not forbidden
To live
within the life which thou bestowest;
And
leaving noblest things vacant and chidden,
Cold as a
corpse after the spirit's flight
Blank as
the sun after the birth of night.
In winds,
and trees, and streams, and all things common,
In music
and the sweet unconscious tone
Of
animals, and voices which are human,
Meant to
express some feelings of their own;
In the
soft motions and rare smile of woman,
In
flowers and leaves, and in the grass fresh-shown,
Adore
thee present or lament thee lost.
And thus
I went lamenting, when I saw
A plant
upon the river's margin lie
Like one
who loved beyond his nature's law,
And in
despair had cast him down to die;
Its
leaves, which had outlived the frost, the thaw
Had
blighted; like a heart which hatred's eye
Can blast
not, but which pity kills; the dew
Lay on
its spotted leaves like tears too true.
The
Heavens had wept upon it, but the Earth
Had
crushed it on her maternal breast
I bore it
to my chamber, and I planted
It in a
vase full of the lightest mould;
The
winter beams which out of Heaven slanted
Fell
through the window-panes, disrobed of cold,
Upon its
leaves and flowers; the stars which panted
In
evening for the Day, whose car has rolled
Over the
horizon's wave, with looks of light
Smiled on
it from the threshold of the night.
And light
revived the plant, and from it grew
Strong
leaves and tendrils, and its flowers fair,
Full as a
cup with the vine's burning dew,
O'erflowed
with golden colours; an atmosphere
And every
impulse sent to every part
The
unbeheld pulsations of its heart.
Well
might the plant grow beautiful and strong,
Even if
the air and sun had smiled not on it;
For one
wept o'er it all the winter long
Tears
pure as Heaven's rain, which fell upon it
Hour
after hour; for sounds of softest song
Mixed
with the stringed melodies that won it
To leave
the gentle lips on which it slept,
Had
loosed the heart of him who sat and wept.
Had
loosed his heart, and shook the leaves and flowers
On which
he wept, the while the savage storm
Waked by
the darkest of December's hours
Was
raving round the chamber hushed and warm;
The birds
were shivering in their leafless bowers,
The fish
were frozen in the pools, the form
Роберт Геррик (1591 - 1674) . 242.На горбатую девушку* Горбата ты, но в том не вижу срама: Ты будь пряма, где девственницы прямы. Санкт-Петербург, 18 авг 2017 Robert Herrick 242. Upon a crooked Maid Crooked you are, but that dislikes not me; So you be straight, where Virgins straight sho'd be. * "Appendix of epigrams"/"Приложение к эпиграммам", опубл. 1898г.
Роберт Фрост. Вопрос Глас был: 'Воззрите, я - средь звёзд, Ответствуйте, земли творенья, Всех ран души и тела, слёз Достанет оплатить рожденье?' Санкт-Петербург, 14 окт. 2017. Robert Frost. A Question A voice said, Look me in the stars And tell me truly, men of earth, If all the soul-and-body scars Were not too much to pay for birth.
Роберт Геррик (1591 - 1674) 240.Правая рука* У Бога правая рука, и нет Той, что назвал бы левой здешний свет. Robert Herrick 240. THE RIGHT HAND God has a right hand, but is quite bereft Of that which we do nominate the left. * "Его благородные или Его набожные произведения" / "His Noble Numbers or His Pious Pieses". Лондон, 1647
Перси Б.Шелли. Строки: 'Лампа коль разбилась' [Опубликовано Мрс. Шелли, "Посмертные стихотворения" / "Posthumous Poems", 1824. Эк
Порно 720: хозяин трахнул домработницу, которая его очень сильно возбудила
Порно: брюнетка изменила парню у него на глазах
Брюнеточка c длинными волосами сношается в письку насаживаясь на кукан сверху