Жанна Курдина - История зарубежной литературы XIX века. Романтизм: учебное пособие

STRANGE fits of passion have I known:
And I will dare to tell,
But in the lover's ear alone,
What once to me befell.

When she I loved look'd every day
Fresh as a rose in June,
I to her cottage bent my way,
Beneath an evening moon.

Upon the moon I fix'd my eye,
All over the wide lea;
With quickening pace my horse drew nigh
Those paths so dear to me.

And now we reach'd the orchard-plot;
And, as we climb'd the hill,
The sinking moon to Lucy's cot
Came near and nearer still.

In one of those sweet dreams I slept,
Kind Nature's gentlest boon!
And all the while my eyes I kept
On the descending moon.

My horse moved on; hoof after hoof
He raised, and never stopp'd:
When down behind the cottage roof,
At once, the bright moon dropp'd.

What fond and wayward thoughts will slide
Into a lover's head!
'O mercy!' to myself I cried,
'If Lucy should be dead!'

SHE dwelt among the untrodden ways
Beside the springs of Dove,
A Maid whom there were none to praise
And very few to love:

A violet by a mossy stone
Half hidden from the eye!
Fair as a star, when only one
Is shining in the sky.

She lived unknown, and few could know
When Lucy ceased to be;
But she is in her grave, and oh,
The difference to me!

I TRAVELL'D among unknown men,
In lands beyond the sea;
Nor, England! Did I know till then
What love I bore to thee.

'This past, that melancholy dream!
Nor will I quit thy shore
A second time; for still I seem
To love thee more and more.

Among the mountains did I feel
The joy of my desire;
And she I cherish'd turn'd her wheel
Beside an English fire.

Thy mornings show'd, thy nights conceal'd,
The bowers where Lucy play'd;
And thine too is the last green field
That Lucy's eyes survey'd.

THREE years she grew in sun and shower;
Then Nature said, 'A lovelier flower
On earth was never sown;
This child I to myself will take;
She shall be mine, and I will make
A lady of my own.

'Myself will to my darling be
Both law and impulse; and with me
The girl, in rock and plain,
In earth and heaven, in glade and bower,
Shall feel an overseeing power
To kindle or restrain.

'She shall be sportive as the fawn
That wild with glee across the lawn
Or up the mountain springs;
And hers shall be the breathing balm,
And hers the silence and the calm
Of mute insensate things.

'The floating clouds their state shall lend
To her; for her the willow bend;
Nor shall she fail to see
Even in the motions of the storm
Grace that shall mould the maiden's form
By silent sympathy.

'The stars of midnight shall be dear
To her; and she shall lean her ear
In many a secret place
Where rivulets dance their wayward round,
And beauty born of murmuring sound
Shall pass into her face.

'And vital feelings of delight
Shall rear her form to stately height,
Her virgin bosom swell;
Such thoughts to Lucy I will give
While she and I together live
Here in this happy dell.'

Thus Nature spake – The work was done —
How soon my Lucy's race was run!
She died, and left to me
This heath, this calm and quiet scene;
The memory of what has been,
And never more will be.

A SLUMBER did my spirit seal;
I had no human fears:
She seem'd a thing that could not feel
The touch of earthly years.

No motion has she now, no force;
She neither hears nor sees;
Roll'd round in earth's diurnal course,
With rocks, and stones, and trees.

Какие тайны знает страсть!
Но только тем из вас,
Кто сам любви изведал власть,
Доверю свой рассказ.

Когда, как роза вешних дней,
Любовь моя цвела,
Я на свиданье мчался к ней,
Со мной луна плыла;

Луну я взглядом провожал
По светлым небесам.
А конь мой весело бежал —
Он знал дорогу сам.

Вот наконец фруктовый сад,
Взбегающий на склон.
Знакомый крыши гладкий скат
Луною озарен.

Охвачен сладкой властью сна,
Не слышал я копыт
И только видел, что луна
На хижине стоит,

Копыто за копытом, конь
По склону вверх ступал.
Но вдруг луны погас огонь,
За крышею пропал.

Тоска мне сердце облегла,
Чуть только свет погас.
«Что, если Люси умерла?» —
Сказал я в первый раз.

Среди нехоженых дорог,
Где ключ студеный бил,
Ее узнать никто не мог
И мало кто любил.

Фиалка пряталась в лесах,
Под камнем чуть видна.
Звезда мерцала в небесах
Одна, всегда одна.

Не опечалит никого,
Что Люси больше нет,
Но Люси нет – и оттого
Так изменился свет.

К чужим, в далекие края
Заброшенный судьбой,
Не знал я, родина моя,
Как связан я с тобой.

Теперь очнулся я от сна
И не покину вновь
Тебя, родная сторона —
Последняя любовь.

В твоих горах ютился дом.
Там девушка жила.
Перед родимым очагом
Твой лен она пряла.

Твой день ласкал, твой мрак скрывал
Ее зеленый сад.
И по твоим холмам блуждал
Ее прощальный взгляд.
IV
Забывшись, думал я во сне,
Что у бегущих лет
Над той, кто всех дороже мне,
Отныне власти нет.

Ей в колыбели гробовой
Вовеки суждено
С горами, морем и травой
Вращаться заодно.

Though the torrents from their fountains
Roar down many a craggy steep,
Yet they find among the mountains
Resting-places calm and deep.

Clouds that love through air to hasten,
Ere the storm its fury stills,
Helmet-like themselves will fasten
On the heads of towering hills.

What, if through the frozen centre
Of the Alps the Chamois bound,
Yet he has a home to enter
In some nook of chosen ground:

And the Sea-horse, though the ocean
Yield him no domestic cave,
Slumbers without sense of motion,
Couched upon the rocking wave.

If on windy days the Raven
Gambol like a dancing skiff,
Not the less she loves her haven
In the bosom of the cliff.

The fleet Ostrich, till day closes,
Vagrant over desert sands,
Brooding on her eggs reposes
When chill night that care demands.

Day and night my toils redouble,
Never nearer to the goal;
Night and day, I feel the trouble
Of the Wanderer in my soul.

Многопенные потоки,
Пробежав скалистый путь,
Ниспадают в дол глубокий,
Чтоб умолкнуть и заснуть.

Стая туч, когда смирится
Гнев грозы и гул громов,
Шлемом сумрачным ложится
На зубчатый ряд холмов.