Ральф Эмерсон – The Poems of Ralph Waldo Emerson / Стихотворения (страница 77)
Но под хохот божок
Завопил «Вот где ты!»
И в то облако скок.
Проснулась тотча́с,
День мне вздохи принёс,
А потом чистый глас —
Вот и нет моих слёз.
Фиалка159
Стихи Эллен Луизы Таккер
Фиалка бледная, зачем ты ждёшь кончины года,
Неужто осени ветра́ поют тебе в угоду?
Ввысь обращённый ясный взор сумеет синь огня
Над зимним снегом удержать, слезинку прочь гоня?
Жить сто́ит, коль ничто вокруг не отразит твой свет?
Цветёшь в осенний ясный день, когда соседей нет.
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The tall green trees, that shelter thee, their last gay dress put on;
There will be nought to shelter thee when their sweet leaves are gone.
O Violet, like thee, how blest could I lie down and die,
When summer light is fading, and autumn breezes sigh;
When Winter reigned I ’d close my eye, but wake with bursting Spring,
And live with living nature, a pure rejoicing thing.
I had a sister once who seemed just like a violet;
Her morning sun shone bright and calmly purely set;
When the violets were in their shrouds, and Summer in its pride,
She laid her hopes at rest, and in the year’s rich beauty died.
The Amulet
Your picture smiles as first it smiled;
The ring you gave is still the same;
Your letter tells, O changing child!
No tidings since it came.
Give me an amulet
That keeps intelligence with you, —
Red when you love, and rosier red,
And when you love not, pale and blue.
Alas! that neither bonds nor vows
Can certify possession;
Torments me still the fear that love
Died in its last expression.
Thine Eyes Still Shined
Thine eyes still shined for me, though far
I lonely roved the land or sea:
As I behold yon evening star,
Which yet beholds not me.
This morn I climbed the misty hill
And roamed the pastures through;
How danced thy form before my path
Amidst the deep-eyed dew!
When the redbird spread his sable wing,
And showed his side of flame;
When the rosebud ripened to the rose,
In both I read thy name.
Eros
The sense of the world is short, —
Long and various the report, —
To love and be beloved;
Men and gods have not outlearned it;
And, how oft soe’er they ’ve turned it,
Not to be improved.
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Лес напоследок нацепил весёлый свой наряд,
Ничто тебя не защитит, лишь листья облетят.
Я, о фиалка, рада знать: и мой конец таков,
Когда свет лета отгорел, шлёт осень вздох ветров;
Усну я в царствие зимы, весной же пробужусь, 
