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English poetry. Alfred Tennyson. Ulysses. Alfred Tennyson. Ulysses. Alfred Tennyson

One of best poems Tennyson, which in Russia is known only by the last line :(
This line was the motto of the hero of the famous novel Veniamin Kaverina "Two captains":
Fight and seek, find and don't give up(in the original: To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield).

Alfred Tennyson
[translation G. Kruzhkova ]

ULYSSES
(ULYSSES)

What's the use if I, a worthless king
These barren rocks, under a peaceful roof
Growing old next to a withering wife,
Teach the laws of this dark people? -
He eats and sleeps and hears nothing.
Peace is not for me; I will drain
To the drop of a bowl of wanderings; I always
Suffered and rejoiced in full measure:
With friends - il alone; on the shore -
Or where through the breaks of the clouds flickered
Rainy Hyades above the foam of the waves.
Insatiable vagabond, seen
I am a lot: foreign cities,
Territories, customs, wise leaders,
And he himself feasted among them with honor,
And knew the ecstasy in the ringing of battles
On the echoing, windy plains of Troy.

I myself am only a part of my memories:
But all that I saw and embraced
Only an arch behind which the boundless
Space is a distance that recedes all the time
Before the eyes of a stranger. Why delay
Rust and freeze in the scabbard of the timid?
As if life is a breath, not a feat.
A whole pile of lives would not be enough for me,
And before me - miserable remnants
One; but every moment that I snatch
At eternal silence, will bring
Me new. Shame and shame - beware,
Feel sorry for yourself and wait a year for a year,
When the soul is tired of desire
Run after a falling star
There, beyond the known world!
Here is Telemachus, my beloved son.
To him I leave the kingdom;
He is patient and meek, he will be able to
Mitigate with reasonable care
Barrenness of coarse souls and gradually
Grow in them the seeds of goodness and goodness.
Indispensable among everyday worries,
Responsive heart, he knows how to
To honor home shrines without me:
He will do his part, and I will do mine.

In front of me is a ship. The sail flutters.
The sea is dark. My sailors
Comrades of labors, hopes and thoughts,
Accustomed to meet with a cheerful look
Thunderstorm and sun - free hearts!
You are old, as am I. Well;
Old age has its own virtue.
Death breaks everything; but before the end
It's still possible to do something
Worthy of those who fought with the gods.

There the lights flickered on the rocks;
It is getting dark, the moon is rising; abyss
Noisy and moaning all around. Oh friends
It's not too late to discover the worlds, -
Forward! Strike the oars with a swing
On sound waves. Because my goal is
Sailing into the sunset, where the stars are sinking
In the abyss of the West. And we, perhaps
Cane into the abyss - or swim
To the Isles of the Blessed and see
Achilles the Great (among others
our acquaintances). No, not everything is gone.
May we not be the heroes of old
Pulled the earth to heaven.
We are us; let time and fate
We were undermined, but the temper is still the same.
And the same courageous ardor in the heart -
Dare, seek, find and never give up!

P.S. I came across a translation of this poem on the net, but the text of the translation was incomplete, moreover, an incomplete version of the translation " Ulysses". This translation is taken from the book: Grigory Kruzhkov "Selected translations. In 2 volumes ". T. 1 - M .: TERRA-Book Club, 2009.

Although the final line of this translation differs from the "canonical" motto " two captains", but this translation option" Ulysses"I liked it more than the previous one.

Song of the Poet

The downpour subsided, and the Poet went beyond the threshold,
Passed the house, the city limit,
The breeze blew from the sunset clouds,
On the waves of rye, like a shiver, flew by.
And the Poet found a lonely hill
And so loudly, so sweetly he sang a song -
The wild swan heard in the sky,
The lark flew to the ground.

The swift forgot to catch up with the bee on the fly,
The snake darted into its shelter,
The hawk with the down of the victim in its beak froze,
He is rather confused than fierce;
The nightingale thought: “I can’t sing like that,
On earth, alas, they don’t sing like that -
He sings about how the world will be
When the years and time pass.

kraken

Under the thickness of the waters, in the depths of the hidden,
Away from waves, winds and tremors,
Among the silent twilight green
Sleeping Kraken. Thickets of spongy plants
And mosses keep it; entangled in a net
quick grass, an underwater island slumbers
And the rings of flexible tentacles sway
Through the murk and darkness; millennia have passed
And they will pass again, without disturbing slumber,
Giving food to shells and polyps, -
Until the abyss and land shudder
And heavenly fire will not burn through the abyss;
Then for the first time he will emerge from the abyss
Before the eyes of angels - and with a quiet sob
His monstrous carcass will die.

On the shore

roar, roar, roar,
In the face of gray rocks, the ocean!
How can I find words for longing,
What swirls in the chest like mist?

It's good to scream with delight
Children on the coastal rocks,
It's good to answer the fisherman
Laughing seagulls on the blue waves.

The ships are returning
To the quiet harbor of the coast,
But never touch my sweet hand,
Do not hear that voice native.

roar, roar, roar,
Moist dust break at your feet!
Happy days will never return
When I could sing and laugh.

Ulysses

What's the use if I, a worthless king
These barren rocks, under a peaceful roof
Growing old next to a withering wife,
Teach the laws of this dark people? -
He eats and sleeps and hears nothing.

Peace is not for me; I will drain
To the drop of a bowl of wanderings; I always
Suffered and rejoiced in full measure:
With friends - il alone; on the shore -
Or where through the breaks of the clouds flickered
Rainy Hyades above the foam of the waves.
Insatiable vagabond, seen
I am a lot: foreign cities,
Territories, customs, wise leaders,
And he himself feasted among them with honor,
And knew the ecstasy in the ringing of battles
On the echoing, windy plains of Troy.

Here is Telemachus, my beloved son,
To him I leave the kingdom;
He is patient and meek; he can
Mitigate with reasonable care
Barrenness of coarse souls and gradually
Grow in them the seeds of goodness and goodness.
Indispensable among everyday worries,
Responsive heart, he knows how to
To honor home shrines without me:
He will do his part, and I will do mine.

In front of me is a ship. The sail flutters.
The sea is dark. My sailors
Comrades of labors, hopes and thoughts,
Accustomed to meet with a cheerful look
Thunderstorm and sun - free hearts!
You are old, as am I. Well;
Old age has its own virtue.
Death ends everything; but before the end
It is still possible to do something
Worthy of those who fought with the gods.

There the lights flickered on the rocks;
It's getting dark; the month rises; abyss
Noisy and moaning all around. Oh friends
It's not too late to discover the worlds, -
Forward! Strike the oars with a swing
On sound waves. Because my goal is
Sailing into the sunset, where the stars are sinking
In the abyss of the West. And we, perhaps
Cane into the abyss - or swim
To the Isles of the Blessed and see
Achilles the Great (among others
our acquaintances). No, not everything is gone.
May we not be the heroes of old
Pulled the earth to heaven
We are us; let time and fate
We were undermined, but the temper is still the same,
And the same courageous ardor in the heart -
Dare, seek, find and never give up!

Typhon

Forests rot, rot and fly around,
And the clouds, crying, showers come,
Tired of plowing, the plowman lies down in the ground,
Satisfied with the sky, the swan dies.
And only me cruel immortality
Consumes: slowly I wither
In your arms on the edge of the universe -
A gray-haired shadow wandering in the fog
In the midst of the eternal silence of the East,
In the pearly, melting halls of the morning.

Alas! grey-headed this ghost
Once was a man, full of strength.
Your chosen one, he seemed to himself
Godlike, proud and happy.
He asked you: "Give me immortality!"
And you gave what you asked for with a smile,
As the rich give - easily, casually.
But the vengeful Horas did not doze:
Powerless to destroy me
Disfigured, bent to the ground
And, decrepit, left to languish
Close to immortal youth. Than you can
My love, comfort me now
At this moment, when the dawn star
Flickering and trembling in your eyes
Filled with tears Let go! -
Take back your gift: why try
Get away from the common fate of the human
And cross the line where everyone should
Stop and accept fate
given by heaven to man.

In the distance, in the gaps of the clouds glimmered
The dark world in which I was born.
And again lit up with a mysterious glow
Your clean forehead and slopes of gentle shoulders,
And the chest, where the heart beats renewed.
Cheeks flare up again,
And your wet eyes are so close
To mine! - sparkle brighter. The stars go out
Before them, and a loving team
Your furious horses wheeze,
Rearing up and shaking
Night from its manes - and blazes with the ardor of morning.

My love! that's how you are every time
Transform - and slip away
Leaving tears on my cheek.

Why do you scare me with tears? -
Is it not for me, trembling, to remember
Words once spoken:
"The gods do not cancel their gifts."

Alas! Alas! Not so I trembled
In the old days, with other eyes
Then I looked - and was it me? -
On a flaming halo
Around your body, on the flashes of the sun
In your curls - and he was transformed
With you - and felt like in my blood
That pinkish glow pours in,
With which you so powerfully clothed,
And felt lips, forehead, eyes
The touch of your lips is more fragrant
April first petals! - and heard
Your whisper is hot and sweet and strange
Like Apollo's joyous song
The day the towers of Troy were raised.

Oh let me go! You can't forever
Combine your sunset with your sunrise.
I'm freezing in these warm waves of light
In your caressing rays, I freeze,
With chilly feet stepping on your
Shimmering threshold at that early hour
When whitish steam rises to the sky
From the fields where mortals live their lives
Or, having become obsolete, rest in peace.
Release me, return me to the earth;
All-seeing, from her height
Take a look at my quiet grave, -
When, having decayed, I will forget forever
Your empty halls height,
Your silver chariot...

Death of Arthur

Echoes of battle rolled all day
Over the winter coast in Lyonesse
Until all the fighters of Arthur fell,
Fighting next to the king.
And King Arthur himself, mortally wounded,
Was raised by the brave Sir Bedivere
And carried to the chapel that stood
Miserable, with a broken altar,
On a bare, dark strip of land
Between the long lake and the ocean.
The night was white from the full moon.
And so he said to Sir Bedivere
King Arthur: "The current battle is terminated
The most beautiful brotherhood of knights,
What the world has seen. They fell asleep
Forever - beloved friends. From now on
Do not amuse them with a glorious conversation
About battles and tournaments, do not walk
Through the halls and alleys of Camelot,
As in the old days. I killed them myself
Alas, - and next to them I die ...
Though Merlin swore that I would return
And I will rule again - but come what may.
So deeply my helmet is pierced by a blade,
That I don't think I'll live to see the morning.
Take my glorious sword Excalibur,
Of which I was proud: do you remember
Like a certain hand on a summer afternoon,

Mysteriously magical, appeared
From the depths of the lake, this sword
Holding, and how I swam after him in a boat,
And he took it, and carried it with valor;
About this and in the times to come,
Remembering me will not be forgotten.
Do not delay: take Excalibur
And throw it into the lake as far as possible;
When you come back, tell me what you saw."
The brave Bedivere answered him:
"My lord, though it behooves me
To leave you with such a cruel wound
Without a friend and help, alone,
But I will execute your order without delay,
And I will tell about everything that I saw.
So he said and left the chapel
And crossed the graveyard in the moonlight,
Where the bones of ancient warriors lay
In the graves, and above them the wind sang,
Wheezing, and carrying shreds of cold foam, -
And along the winding path between the rocks
Went down to the illumined lake waters.
There he unsheathed Excalibur,
Picked it up - and the winter moon,
That silvered the edge of a lingering cloud,
Rushed along the blade to the hilt
And burst into flames of diamond sparks,
Shimmering topazes and garnets
Amazing borders. half blinded
He stood, swinging for a throw,
But with a divided will; finally
He thought it best to hide
Excalibur between knotted stems
Coastal reeds rustling muffled.
Having done so, he returned to the king.
Arthur asked Sir Bedivere:
“Did you follow orders exactly?
Tell me what you saw or heard?
The brave Bedivere answered Arthur:
"I heard only the rustle of reeds
And the quiet splash of lake waves on the rocks.
Then King Arthur said, turning pale:
"You betrayed your soul and honor,
Answering, not like a noble knight,
And what a sly, mean man.
I know the lake must answer
Some kind of sign, voice, movement.
It's shameful to lie. But you are sweet and dear to me.
Go again, fulfill the command,
Then come back and tell me what you saw."
And again went Sir Bedivere
The rocky path to the lake shore,
Steps in meditation measuring - but barely
He saw again the carved hilt
The finest and most outlandish work,
How, clenching his fist, he exclaimed: “Really
I have to throw away such a priceless one
Such a wonderful sword - so that never
Did no mortal see him?
What is the benefit of this obedience?
What evil from disobedience - except
Consciousness that disobedience is evil?
Let's put it that way. But if the king himself
Does he harm himself by order?
He is seriously ill, his mind is troubled.
What will he leave for the times to come
In memory of myself when he leaves,
Beyond the dark rumors? If this
The relic will forever be preserved
In the treasury of kings - one day
At a knight's feast or at a tournament
Someone will take it out and say:
Here it is, Excalibur, Arthur's sword,
Worked by the mysterious Virgin
At the bottom of the lake: nine whole years
She worked on it alone. -
And everyone will honor him and marvel at him.
Shall we deprive the king of this glory?
Confused by such thoughts,
He hid the sword Excalibur again
And he returned to the wounded bark.
Arthur asked him, breathing hard:
"Tell me what you saw or heard?"

“I heard the splash of lake waves on the rocks
And the mournful rustle of reeds.
Then he exclaimed in bitterness and anger
King Arthur: "Shameless traitor!
Your tongue is lying! Oh woe, woe to me...
Unfortunate is the dying king:
A look that once commanded without words,
Lost power; but he did not hesitate.
What do I see? You are my last knight
Who was supposed to serve for everyone,
Enticed by the precious hilt
And betrayed the king like a greedy thief
Or a girl - for the sake of trinket.
And yet you can stumble twice,
And the third time - to fulfill the duty; go!
But if you betray this time,
I will kill you with my own hand."
Sir Bedivere ran downstairs,
On a grand scale rushed into the coastal reeds,
Grabbed Excalibur and, spinning,
Threw what was strong. shining sword,
Spinning and sparkling in the moonlight
Took off, blowing a fan in a circle
Rays - like those night lights,
What shine over the polar seas
In the frosty cracking of floating ice.
So he soared - and Arthur's blade fell down;
But before he touched the water,
Some magic hand
Covered with Venetian brocade,

Disappeared. The knight hurried back.
Seeing him, King Arthur said:
“Now I know that you have fulfilled your duty.
Tell me quickly, what did you see and hear?
Sir Bedivere answered him:
"My lord, I should have first
Shut your eyes so you don't get blinded.
After all, nothing is more wonderful than those stones,
More skillful than the carving on the handle,
Though I live three times a human century,
I will never be able to see.
Then I swung wide
And I threw the sword into the water ... I look - a hand,
Covered with Venetian brocade,
Suddenly rose from the waves, grabbed the sword
By the handle and, waving it three times,
Disappeared with him in the depths of the lake.
And so said Arthur, breathing hard:
“Death is near; I feel it.
Rather lift me up on your shoulders
And take it to the beach. But I'm afraid,
That this wound has become too cold."
He said and raised himself on his elbow,
Effortlessly overcoming the pain
And looking blue as a dream eyes
Somewhere in front of you. Sir Bedivere
With great pity he looked through his tears;
I wanted to say something, but I couldn't.
Just be careful on your knees
On the shoulders of the sovereign he lifted
And slowly walked with him along the churchyard.
King Arthur breathed down his neck
And trembled convulsively, as if sleeping,
Who had a terrible dream
And hoarsely repeated: “Hurry! hurry up!
Death is near; I'm afraid we won't make it."
And the knight meanwhile stepped forward
From ledge to ledge on slippery rocks,
Enveloped in the vapor of your breath,
Like some kind of ghost or giant.
He heard the sea behind him
Like a bird of the night screaming ahead;
Chagall, we drive forward with one thought,
And the sound of armor echoed
In the gorges and on the slopes of the icy
Around him, and the clang of steel steps
Buzzed and multiplied among the cliffs -
And finally, the shore opened before him
And a moonlit lake.
There, on the waves, they saw a barque,
Darkened like a mourning shawl
Near the coast. On deck in rows
There were people in long black robes
And black hoods - and between them
Three queens in golden crowns;
And from this barge rose a cry
To the very stars - dull, mournful, united,
Like the howling of the wind on a dark night
In such a wilderness where no one else
Did not come from the creation of the world.
“Now,” the king said, “take
me to the bar. With weeping and moaning
Three queens received Arthur
On deck; and the one that the rest
Surpassed by beauty and article,
Bowing his head to his chest,
She took off her broken helmet and sobbed,
And, rubbing the hands of the king,
Sprinkled with hot tears
His brow with gore,
And cheeks as pale as the face of the moon
Before the dawn, and stuck together curls,
That formerly illuminated Arthur's throne,
Like a sheaf of rays, and now, having darkened
From sweat and dust, tattered
They hung tangled with a beard.
So he lay in a collapsed column;
Is this the same Arthur who raced
Rally, with a spear at the ready,
Before the eyes of admiring ladies,
Light of chivalry - from spurs to helmet plumes?
Then the brave Bedivere exclaimed:
“Ah, Sovereign, where shall I go now?
Where can I hide my eyes from terrible changes?
Gone are the days of honor
And every dawn called for a feat,
And each feat of a knight created:
Such times, I swear, I have not seen the light,
Ever since the wise men came with gifts.
And now Round table, this image of the world
Mighty and glorious, disintegrated;
I'm destined to be alone
The last - and ahead is only darkness,
Strange faces, strange worries.
And so the king answered him from the barge:
"The old is leaving and giving way
The way to the new; so God made the world,
So that goodness does not rot in it from dilapidation.
Take comfort, knight; what do you want in me?
I have lived my life, and may it cleanse
The Lord has my sins in Himself! Notes,
If we are not destined to meet again,
Pray for the soul of the king. Prayer
Stronger than they think about it. So let
Your voice day and night for me
Ascends to the sky like a jet of a fountain.
Why are people better than goats and sheep,
Kohl, knowing the mercy of God, do not exalt
Prayers for yourself and for friends?
So at the foot of it weaves
The golden web that surrounds the world.
Now - goodbye. I sail with them
Who do you see here (although the soul
Still disbelieving and afraid)
To the island of Avalon in the midst of warm waters,
Where there is no hail, no rain, no snow,
Nor storms; but only blooming gardens,
Evergreen meadows - and grottoes
In the shade of the branches above the blue sea;
All wounds are healed there.
So he said, and the barge set sail,
Drawn by oars and sails -
Like a white-breasted swan that sang a song
Dying and spreading feathers,
Surrendered to the flow. Long into the distance
Watched Sir Bedivere, remembering
So much! - while the ship sailed away
Did not become just a point in the reddened sky
And the distant cry did not stop over the water.

Songs from the poem "Princess"

Tears

Oh useless tears, why
You rush to my eyes again
From the bottom of the soul, from secret springs,
When I look at the fat fields
And remember the days gone by

Delightful, like the dawn on sails,
Bringing us friends from afar,
Sad as distant lights
Forever departing ships,
Irrevocable old days.

Sad and mysterious, like a whistle
Some birds awake in the garden
For the dying that looks
Into the slowly brightening window,
Unfathomable old days.

Crazy as the afterlife kiss
Like a hopeless desire of lips
Blooming is not about us - bitter as a passion,
Resentment, pain and first love, -
O death in life, days gone by!

Lullaby

Quiet and gentle from afar,
West wind blow!
And return from afar
Dear to us quickly.
Without waking up a hurricane on the way,
Fly over the illuminated abyss
Moonlight faster!
You see - my little one is sleeping in the bedroom, sleeping.

Quietly and gently sleep, fall asleep,
Close your eyes tightly -
Sleep peacefully, bayushki-bye:
Mother is next to you.
The moon slumbers in golden skies,
Dad's boat in full sail
Rushing home to his son.
Sleep, my little one, in a quiet bedroom, sleep.

Elven horns

The sunset fell on the walls of the castle,
Above them mountains in bright blue;
Shining, the waterfall jumps,
The lake radiates in the valley.

Listen! From across the river
So clear and unforgiving
Elf horns sound
And melt like trickles of thought.
Blow, horn, blow! mysteriously simple
Melody, fly - twisted, melting, melting ...

Darling! Silence the noise
Military trumpets and shepherd's flutes;
But the echo of our mortal thoughts
Awakens a response in new souls.
Blow, horn, blow! Let the echo fly away
Circling among the peaks - twisted, melting, melting ...

We walked in the evening along the border ...

We walked in the evening along the boundary,
Ripe ears plucking;
But something burned my heart
We began to argue sharply, evil -
And suddenly they came to their senses, sobbing.

Oh, these quarrels between relatives,
When, boiling with resentment,
God knows what you'll say
And suddenly you come to your senses, sobbing.

And we came to where he sleeps
Our little dear
Under the gray hillock of the earth,
Overgrown mound of earth -
And hugged crying.

Do not ask

Do not ask; the moon will make a wave
Or the clouds in the wind will take the form
Some castles or pyramids;
I will not return these ardent glances:
Do not ask me.

Do you want to know what I'll tell you?
I'm bored with these babblings of love;
And yet - do not die, live!
Do you confess? - I tremble for you:
Do not ask me.

Do not ask, my friend: your fate,
My fate, like a thread, intertwined;
Against the current, I swam in vain.
O my beloved, how weak is the soul!
Do not ask me.

Descend, O maiden, from the pass down

Descend, O maiden, from the pass down!
What joy do you have (Shepherd sang)
In the sparkle and cold of the heights?
Beware so close to heaven
Twinkle like a star between the rocks, glide like a beam,
At a pine split by lightning.
Go down to the valley where love lives
You will find love only here, below,
By the hot fire - or in the fields,
In an embrace with the young Harvest,
Or between barrels of purple wine,
Or in the garden chasing foxes;
She is bored with her silver-horned face,
The grimace of pale death is terrible to her.
You will not find love between wild rocks
And glaciers sliding down the mountain
In the gorge, along with piles of stones,
To gush a foamy stream down.
Come down for the dancing water
To the valley let the bald eagles
Shouting above and between the terrible steeps
Smoke splashes of thousands of small jets,
Like wasted hopes.
So don't ruin yourself; hurry here!
The valley is waiting for you, azure smoke
Ascends into the air, the kids scream;
And your shepherd plays the horn
So tender that only your voice is more tender;
Countless streams ring in the meadows,
And doves groan among the branches,
And the honey bees are buzzing.

From the cycle "In Memoriam"

V

Sometimes I think it's wrong
Multiply grief with Scripture -
Like half naked
What should be covert.

And if I write again
It's only because I'm like this
Occupation devoutly stupid,
Like opium, I silence the pain.

And to hide your grief
And deceive the cold of life
In a sackcloth of words, wrapping my chest,
I'm standing here like a scarecrow.

VII

The house is empty. Why should I stand here
And wait at the threshold now
Where, before you hit the door,
I had to calm my heart?

A reproach of guilt, an injection of longing;
Look - I can't sleep
Wandering into the early morning haze
Feel the warmth of your hand again

Which is not ... You are not here!
But again the creak of worries is heard,
And crawling in the wet, gray haze,
Like a ghost, dawn.

XI

How quiet, Lord, around!
Such silence among the meadows
What if the chestnut falls
The layer of leaves absorbs sound.

Quiet in the field. chilly dew
Viburnum each leaf is washed;
And the web gilds
The dawn of the autumn ray is slanting.

Silence in the air, not a breeze;
An immovable forest day by day
Empty. And in my heart
Peace and dead longing.

Silence, like fog, flows at your feet,
The plain breathes silence
And wants to merge with the veil
Cold muddy gray waters.

Over the ocean - a quiet breeze;
And in that chest forever peace,
Which is only a sea shaft
Moves steadily up and down.

LIV

Oh yes, sometime later
All worldly evil, blood and dirt,
Somehow miraculously destroyed
We believe it will end well.

Everyone has their own sure chance;
Nothing goes nowhere
Like a card is superfluous when
The Lord will finish his solitaire.

There is a goal invisible to us:
Moth self-immolation
And writhe in the clay of the worm,
cut in half -

All is not in vain; - there, far away,
Where there is no winter and darkness,
(So it seems to me) flowers for us
The unknown blossomed...

But who am I, really?
A child crying in the dark
Not knowing how to calm your fear
In the pitch darkness of the night.

IV

Winter is coming up for Christmas.
The lunar circle dives in the clouds;
In the mist the bells sound
Comes from over the hill.

A deaf blow in the darkness of the night!
But he did not pierce through the chest,
Only sluggishly she responded:
Even the bell is different here.

Everything is different here - forest, fields,
Soul - no milestone, no trace ...
Desert, alien to memory,
Unconsecrated land.

From the poem "Maud"

(1)

Get out into the garden quickly, Maud!
It's already night - bat -
Flew into her black grotto;
Sleep late; are you sleeping?
Musk rose blooms
And the moon looks out from behind the roofs.

You see, it began to dawn in the garden,
And the star of love in the sky
Starts to fade and fade
At dawn, like a candle in the window, -
And disappear into the arms of the sun
Melting in his gentle fire.

Until the morning the oboe argued with the violin
The bassoon complained hoarsely,
And flashed together and apart
Shadows in the windows - all night long;
Silence came only before dawn,
With the first scattering of bird notes.

And I said to the lily: "Only with one
She can be funny;
The hubbub of the ball is unbearable to her anymore,
The chatter of the crowd is heavy."
At last the noise and smoke has dissipated,
The music stopped in the hall;
The guests drove off one by one,
The echo got wet and the night passed.

And I said to the rose: “The ball rushed
In a whirlwind of dances, colors, lights.
Lord in love, no matter how you dream
She will never be yours.
Forever, - I promised the rose, -
She will be mine, only mine!

And the flame of the rose entered my chest,
flooding my soul,
And I stood for a long time, not daring to breathe
And listened, as if in paradise,
The splash of a stream hurrying on a long journey -
Through your meadow - into your grove.

Through the meadow, where the traces of your light feet
So fresh in the meadow grass,
What chain their March breeze
Turned into violets in the spring, -
Through the meadow happy obliquely
To the edge of our forest.

White iris, falling asleep at sunset,
Didn't wake up this time
And jasmine, tending a fragrant bunch,
Immersed in my sleepy spell.
Only lilies, keeping a promise,
Guarded our cherished hour;
Only roses and lilies for me
They didn't close their eyes until dawn.

O sorceress of the garden, come to the call!
The night is over - hurry up;
In the glitter of silk, in the shimmer of pearls
Walk down the stairs in silence
Become the sun, golden-haired, for flowers
And resolve their languor.

Scarlet rose at the gate
Hot flashes, as in delirium;
Here she comes my Maud
To allay my misfortune;
The white rose sheds tears;
The spurr whispers: "She is in the garden";
The bell gives a signal
And jasmine replies: "I'm waiting!"

Here she comes here - ah!
I hear: the dress rustles in the distance;
Even if I'm cold ashes
In cryptic dampness and dust,
My heart is there, in the dark,
Tremble (let the centuries pass!) -
And rushes in ruddy, scarlet colors
To meet her from under the ground.

(2)

Here, on the sand of the sea,
Sink, look -
tiny thing,
Not bigger than a fingernail
With a thin curl
Pink inside
How wonderful it sparkles
Iridescent and fragile!

Could you name a scientist
Nickname her wise,
Taking a sheet from a book;
But not named
Her name is beauty.

The one who lived in it
Apparently left in dismay
The house is cozy;
How long did he stay
At your door
Horns moving
On the pearly threshold
Before with your head
To sink into the expanse of the seas?

Thin - even a child
Heel will break it,
Tiny - but how wonderful
Wonderfully made!
Fragile - but a wave
What raises jokingly
three-masted ship
And about the reef breaks, -
Don't feel free to deal with her.

Swimming Muldoon

From childhood I knew my enemy - not knowing his face;
And I swore revenge on the one who killed my father.
I grew up and chose loyal fighters, ready to follow me,
Each of them was a king with a bearing, a hero with courage and strength.
And everyone knew how to fight on land and on a ship,
And he was famous for the valor of the kind, the most ancient on earth.
My enemy lived on an island in the middle of the sea (may he perish!)
Who killed my father the day I was born.

And now the island where my enemy lived appeared to us through the fog;
But a sudden squall swept the ship into an unknown ocean.

And we sailed, wandering in the waves, to the Island of Silence,
Where the ocean wave silently hit the coastal boulders,
Where streams flowed without a murmur, where from a stone plateau,
All in spray, the waterfall was falling down, but no one heard the thunder,
Where poplars and cypresses grew, not knowing the rumble of storms,
Where the branches of the pine tree lifted into the sky-high azure,
Where the lark could not sing, soaring into the sky from the ground,
Where the cock crow and the bull moo and the dog could not lie.
And we went around the whole island around, went from end to end,
He seemed beautiful, like life, but he was dumb, like a dead man.
And our own voices for our own ears
They sounded in this damned land like the squeak of bats.
Mighty, strong-chested men, whose deafening cry
Could lead a hundred fighters in battle against a thousand peaks,
They boiled with anger, madly furious at a friend, as at an enemy, -
Until we finally left the dangerous shores.

And we sailed to the Island of Birds, in which the demon moved,
Their flocks, screaming like a human, woke up the shore and the forest.
They called from the high branches several times a day,
And at every cry the plow broke and the bread withered on the vine,
And the cattle died, and the roof flowed, and the house burst into flames,
And the traveler fell dead in the forest, as if struck by thunder.
And this cry infected the hearts with such enmity that friends
Shouting, they drew their swords, smashing each other to death.
As soon as I could separate them and take them away from that land.
We left the dead on the shore and only saved the wounded.

And we sailed to the Island of Flowers; still in the middle of the sea reported
To us the wind blowing from behind the waves, the fragrance of roses.
There, yellow gorse and passionflower grew on the ledges of rocks,
And the slopes of the coastal scarlet bindweed twined with garlands;
And the cone of the main mountain, its dazzling peak
Was covered with lilies, like a veil, and this blooming glacier
Royal lilies passed down the slope into the fire
Poppies, tulips and red roses, in their semi-precious pattern;
There was no grove, no tree: only an avalanche of flowers
From the top of the mountain to the blue wave splashing along the coast.
And we rode on a bed of flowers, intoxicated with bliss,
And they sang about Finn, the leader of the saga of hoary antiquity,
Covered in golden pollen from head to toe...
But my throat burned, and I was thirsty - at least a sip of water!
Oh, at least some fresh fruit - not all flowers are flowers!
And we cursed this island of meaningless beauty
And we tore the flowers, and trampled the flowers so that they would not grow again;
And in anger they boarded a ship and sailed away from that land.

And we sailed to the Island of Fruits, which looked like a wondrous garden;
Seductive with purple and amber, grapes hung from the branches,
And the warm melon, like a ball of sunshine, lay on the swarthy sand,
And the figs beckoned away from the shore, lost in the nearby forest;
And above all towered the mountain, like a gemstone throne,
The air above her was filled with the scent of plums and golden pears,
And the berries, glowing with clusters of stars, sparkled overhead;
But there were fruits and bunches full of secret, intoxicating poison.
And on the top of the mountain there was an orchard of apple trees,
Fruits of unprecedented size crowded in the crowns, ripened,
So tight that there was no slit for the sheet inside,
And the apples were hotter than shame, rosier than the dawn itself.
For three days we drank dangerous hops, ate sweet satiety,
Until they grabbed their swords again and began to strike each other;
But I ate little - and, as it came to a fight, I stood across,
He filled them in about the death of his father and took them to the ship.

And we sailed to the Island of Fire; was seen from afar
In the middle of the sea, a high pillar of fire, rising under the clouds;
But, bewitched by a wonderful fire, we could hardly stand
On this shivering, like a coward in battle, a shaky piece of land;
The whole island seemed to be shaking, and some, unable to endure
The shaking of the earth and the rumble of fire rushed into the fiery mouth;
We hurriedly set sail - and in the depths of water transparent as air
We saw magical cities, towers, palaces and gardens,
There, in the waves, some beautiful paradise shone through us from the bottom,
As an image of other, blissful times and dreams of eternal sleep!
And I did not have time to say a word, as the three best of us
They jumped into the sea upside down - and the image of paradise went out.

And we sailed to the Isle of Gifts, where the clouds float low,
Where every morning a Hand stretches out from heaven
And opens his hand and puts it next to everyone who sleeps
Or he gets up from sleep, his bread, so that he is full all day.
O glorious island! The murmur of the jets! Blessed generous days!
And we remembered the valor of our fathers and the exploits of our relatives,
And we sang the sagas of the fathers, wandering at the edge of the sea,
And they praised, sitting near the fires, the battles of Finn the leader.
But soon free bread became boring, longing came for boredom,
And we are tired of the Island of Gifts and the morning Hand,
And we are tired of wandering and yawning and praising the old days,
We began to play - at first with the ball, then - for fun - in the war,
This game is dangerous for those who are obsessed with the passion of battles!
We wiped the blood from our swords and went back to the ocean.

And we sailed to the Isle of Witches, whose sweet voices
“Here, here, stranger, swim!” - like a hair
They pulled us to this shore, where in the reflections of red clouds,
In dawn gold and naked in smoke, like a ray of sunshine,
The sorceress stood on every rock, and it was on their island -
Like white birds in the nest, seductive and young;
Some waved from the cliffs, others frolicked in the waves;
But I turned the ship away from the earth, for fear seized me.

And we sailed at an unkind hour to the Island of the Two Towers; of them
One was of smooth stone, the other was in carved patterns;
But some force with such enmity shook their foundation,
That they beat against the wall with a wall, swinging the bells,
And clouds of jackdaws took off, circling, on one side and on the other
And they filled the evening air with such noisy swearing,
That my people went crazy and were drawn into discord,
Chopping - some for smooth walls, and some for a fancy pattern;
And the peals of God's thunder rumbled near and far ...
By force I dragged them to the ship - and away from this land.

We came to the Island of the Old Man, who sailed with Brendan the Saint;
He lived without a break on the other side, and he was three hundred winters.
He looked and spoke in such a way, as angels only speak,
His beard has grown to the ground, gray hair - to the toes.
And this is what he said: “Oh Muldoon! Listen and don't be stubborn;
The Lord commanded the mortal: "Vengeance is mine, and I will repay."
Your ancestors and his ancestors fought from year to year,
Death for death endlessly paying to settle the old account;
Your father killed his father, how long will you bear evil?
So go back to your home and remember: what was, is gone.
The holy old man absolved us of our sins, and we read prayers,
And kissing the edge of his beard, they sailed away from that land.

And the wind brought us to the land of the enemy; but I didn't step on it
I saw the murderer of my father, but my former ardor has cooled.
Truly I am tired of sin, from wanderings, waves and winds,
When he got with a handful of his own to our native shores!

Merlin and Ray

Oh Young Swimmer,
Whose ship is sheltered
Down under the rock!
In front of you
gray-haired wizard
With a piercing gaze;
I am Merlin
And I'm dying
I am Merlin
Following the Beam.

Mighty was the Sorcerer,
awakened me
From sleep at dawn
who taught me
Your sorcery!
Mighty was the teacher
And the charms are wonderful
When over the valley
green, blooming
Because of the mountain
For houses and faces
went down,
Dancing to the music
Mystery Beam.

One day, under the cawing of an evil crow,
flying askew,
The ignoramuses are stupid
What is deaf to music,
Blind to the miraculous
They scolded me and reproached me;
And I was stung by a demon:
The whole world went dark
The radiance has faded
And the music stopped;
But the Teacher quietly whispered to me:
"Follow the Beam!"

To wonderful music
Now in a meadow, now more often,
Suddenly illuminating
That is a forest elf,
That mountain gnome
That wild troll
There - fairy round dances
In secluded hollows,
There are dragon games
By the mountain streams
Or flying noisily
From the heights of the waterfalls
Along paths and swamps
On and on
Luch beckoned me.

Over the chain of hills -
And over the flat plain,
Over the dimly shining river
With silver willow
Over field and pasture,
Over hay and harvest,
Over the girl's song
And the squeal of a child, -
On the backs, on the faces,
From low labors coarsened, -
This Ray glided.

And suddenly, to a different tune,
More solemn and majestic
Ray brought me
To the city and castle of Arthur;
Touched the golden crosses
Above the churches
Flashed on the visors,
On knightly spears
Ready to draw
And finally, on the forehead
Royal Arthur
This beam has frozen.

But clouds and darkness
Camelot swallowed up
And good Arthur disappeared,
My beloved sovereign
The destructive death is not overbearing.
Then out of the darkness
A beam that shimmered dimly
On the frozen stubble
Suddenly, secretly flaring up,
Slipped into that valley
Where the shadows wander sadly -
And moving smoothly
To the music gently attracting,
Stopped and froze
On the shadow - which was no longer a shadow,
For parted from the darkness,
Embrace the Light.

Sparkling and expanding
He flew around the world
With a jubilant song
mysteriously passionate,
And I'm getting harder
followed him,
Overcoming impotence;
I saw everywhere
Where the beam passed:
Everything he touched
Graveyard behind the fence
Mound on the hill -
Covered with flowers.
And so I, tired,
Reached the limit
known world,
Here I will end my journey
And here I will die without sorrow,
No wonder the Sorcerer
occult knowledge
Taught me as a child
After all, even here, at the threshold
the endless sea,
And everywhere under the sky - I see! -
This ray glides.

Not a sunbeam
And not lunar
Not stellar!
Oh Young Swimmer,
Hurry to your bay
Call your brothers
Set sail - and immediately
Until it's gone
Shining over the horizon
Swim relentlessly
Strive recklessly -
Follow the beam!

Strings

I came to this slope as a child,
Where bluebells bloomed in the grass.
Here stood my ancient Ilion
And the Greek ships sailed.
Now there is a network of ditches from all sides
And patches of marshy land,
Only the dunes are gray - yes the wind is moaning,
Rain over the water - and piles of clouds in the distance!

Sonnet

Singers of other, non-futile centuries:
Old man Virgil, who is in the shade in the morning,
Coming up with three or four lines,
I was ready to rule them until sunset;

And you, Horace Flaccus, what for poetry
The nine-year-old demanded a reprieve,
And you, Catullus, in a tiny ball
He mourned the fate of all earthly singers, -

Oh, if looking back at the ashes of the valley,
You are volumes of your works
Still see in careful hands,

Rejoice, lofty shadows! -
While the arts onslaught and scope
You will not be overwhelmed with a pile of rubbish.

Frater Ave Atque Vale

They sailed from Desenzano and sailed to Sermius,
Oars without disturbing the dormant lake lilies.

Above the laughing wave here o Sermio venusto!
I hear the voice of the wind among the herbs growing densely.

Here the gentlest of poets repeated in his sorrow:
Goodbye, dear brother, Frater ave atque vale!

Here, among the Roman ruins, purple inflorescences
Just as drunk, just as sweet after two millennia.

And rustles on the banks of the Garda above the sparkling of the bay
Sweet-sounding Catullus silvery olive!

Behind the breakwater

Sunset in the distance and the first star
And a clear distant call!
And now let the water freeze near the rocks;
I'm ready to sail.

Let the tide rise slowly like a dream
From the fullness of the dumb,
To infinity, flooding the shore,
Fled back home.

Let the evening bell beat steadily
And the breeze breathes peacefully
When I pass the last turn
I pass the dark cape.

Disperse after me, like the haze of the day,
coastal mist,
When my Pilot takes me out
To the open ocean.

A. Tennyson
Odysseus

Not much use, idle me king
Above the rocky island, sitting in the house
With his aged wife by his side,
Judge, the law is pushing the cattle,
What he eats, sleeps, saves, not listening to me.
Well, and to vegetate? No, drink life
I owe it without a trace. After all, always
I suffered, I enjoyed with full force,
With those who loved me and lonely,
On land and when, in torrents of downpours
Rain Hyades, heaving in anger
Dark sea. I became in the world
Indomitable wanderer symbol,
Learned so much, seen so much
Peoples, customs, cities and kingdoms,
A worthy husband, he was honorably received everywhere,
Drunk with the delight of a battle with an equal to me,
In the battles of the rumble at the frozen Troy.
Now I'm a part of everything that I've met in my life
But what is known is only a threshold
Unknown world, whose borders
I move away, moving forward.
It's time to slow down enough. Enough
Rust in the corner, not sparkle in battles!
Breathing does not mean living. I wouldn't have had enough
Heaps of lives, but mine,
The only one, and there is not much left.
But every hour before the eternal silence
Brings something new. And low
Keep yourself for a couple of years
Your gray-haired spirit is languishing with desire
Rush to knowledge, like a meteor,
transcending the limits of human thought.
Here he is, my son, my dear Telemachus,
To whom will I leave the scepter and the island -
He will be able to fulfill the king's work,
Soften with reasonable care
My uncouth people will bow
Him to humility for good and good.
Taking over the reins, my son
Will be able to conduct business flawlessly -
With the people of affection and worthy of the gods
He will read when I leave.
He has his own way, I have mine.
My ship is waiting, the sail is full of wind,
Mist, the expanse of the seas is dark, but there are sailors,
That they endured all the trials with me,
Always with cheerful audacity meeting
And the storm, and the sun, overcoming everything
Free will and free spirit.
Yes, we are old, but old age has preserved
Perseverance in us and honor. Death will hide everything
But you can make before death
That which will glorify us who have not ceased
To be men who challenge the gods.
The stars twinkle like fires on the rocks,
The moon rises slowly
The groan of the depths resounded with many voices.
Friends, go ahead. It's not too late
We are looking for a new world. Let's pile on
And with a powerful splash of furrow we plow.
We will sail beyond the edge where the sun sinks,
Where, washing, resurrect the stars.
And we'll swim until I die.
And if the abyss of the sea swallows us,
Maybe in the Happy Isles
We will meet the great Achilles again.
Not everything passes - a lot remains.
Let there be no former strength in us that could
To make the Earth and the Sky shudder,
But in essence we are all the same. In the same rhythm
Hearts, wounded by fate, beat
Courage and indomitable will
Dare, seek, achieve, do not retreat.

Translation of gorvic

Translator's notes

1. In the original, the poem is called "Ulysses" (Ulysses). Ulysses, as you know, is the Latin form of the name of the mythical Greek king of the island of Ithaca Odysseus. Assuming that Odysseus is more familiar and close to the Russian-speaking reader, I considered it correct to use this name.
2. Hyades - in Greek mythology, the daughters of Atlanta and Pleione, who were the rain nymphs. After their brother died hunting, they died of grief, and Zeus turned them into stars. The Hyades star cluster is located in the constellation Taurus. The appearance of the constellation Hyades in the sky of Greece foreshadowed the beginning of the rainy season. That is why the Hyades were called rain.
3. Happy (Blessed) islands - in Greek mythology, these are islands where people (and not only) live in the Gardens of Eden, who received immortality from the gods, and heroes resurrected after death. It is impossible for humans to reach the Happy Isles without the help of the gods.
4. The original poem can be seen, for example,

There is little benefit in the fact that, the king of leisure,
By the hearth, among the barren rocks,
I distribute, near the withering wife,
Incomplete laws to these wild ones,
What they save, sleep, eat without knowing me.
I have a rest from wandering, no, not a rest,
I want to drink my life to the bottom.
I enjoyed, I suffered - immensely,
Always, - and with those whom I was loved.
And by myself, alone. Is it on the shore
Or when the rainy Hyades
Through the smoky current of the winds they tormented the sea, -
I became a glorious name, because,
Always holding the path with a hungry heart,
I knew and saw a lot, - reconnoitered
Human cities, governments, customs,
And the difference of countries, and himself
Among the tribes that showed me respect,
I drank the joy of battle among my peers,
On the resounding plains of Troy.
I am part of everything that I met along the way.
But the lived experience is only an arch,
Through it the unpassed shines,
And the edge of that untouched world
The farther I go, the further it melts.
How stupidly dull to delay, to know the end,
Rust in temper, do not sparkle in accomplishment.
As if to breathe means to live.
Throw life upon life, everything will be too little.
And how much of my life is left for me?
Only the edge. But every hour is saved
From eternal silence, and more -
Every hour brings a new message.
To save some more three suns, -
Contemptible - to keep yourself in the pantry,
And this gray-haired spirit, tormented by thirst,
After knowledge, rush with a falling star
Beyond the limit of human thought.
Here is my son, my dear Telemachus,
I will leave him the scepter and the island, -
Beloved, capable of discernment,
Slow wisdom will be able to
Level the angularities among the people
And lead to the good with an even shoot.
He is flawless, center-rosary,
Responsibilities for general meals
And in tenderness without showing damage,
He will honor the gods of the household in moderation,
When I'm no longer here.
He does his, and I do mine.

Here is the port. The sail was inflated on the ship.
The expanse of the seas froze. My sailors
You that did, fought, thought
Together with me, meeting with agility
And thunder and sun - contrast
Knowing everything about a free face, -
We are old, me and you. But in the old days
There is one's own honor and one's worthy work.
Death closes everything. But noble
You can mark yourself with an act
Before the end, - accomplishment, decent
Those people who fought with the gods.
Flickering, the light recedes from the rocks,
The long day has shortened, and rises
Slowly over the waters the moon.
The abyss calls with a many-voiced roar.
Let's swim, friends, before it's too late
We will sail to find a new world.
Let's set sail and, sitting in a strict order,
Let's hit the rattling furrows.
My intention is to rule the sail by sunset,
Beyond it, and before I die
To be where the western stars sink.
Perhaps the abyss of the sea will swallow us,
Perhaps we will reach the Happy Islands,
We will see the great Achilles there,
who we knew. Many are not
But many still remain.
And we do not have the former strength of ancient days,
That wavered over the earth and the sky,
But we are we. The temper of fearless hearts,
Weakened by both time and fate,
But strong unweakened will
Search, find, dare, do not give in.

Translation by K.D. Balmont

It little profits that an idle king
By this still hearth, among these barren crags
Matched with an agèd wife, I mete and doleс
unequal laws unto a savage race,
That heart, and sleep, and feed, and know not me.

I cannot rest from travel: I will drinkс
Life to the lees: all times I have enjoyed
Greatly, have suffered greatly, both with those
That loved me, and alone; on shore, and when
Through scudding drifts the rainy Hyades
Vexed the dim sea: I am become a name;
For always roaming with a hungry heart
Much have I seen and known; cities of mens
And manners, climates, councils,
Myself not least, but honored of them all;c
And drunk delight of battle with my peers
Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy .c
I am a part of all that I have met;
Yet all experience is an arch wherethrough
Gleams that untravelled world, whose margin fades
For ever and for ever when I move.c
How dull it is to pause, to make an end
To rust unburnished, not to shine in use!
As though to breathe were life. Life piled on life
Were all too little, and of one to me
Little remains: but every hour is saved
From that eternal silence, something more
A bringer of new things; and vile it were
For some three suns to store and hoard myself,
And this gray spirit yearning in desire
To follow knowledge like a sinking star
Beyond the ultimate bound of human thought.

This my son mine own Telemachus
To whom I leave the sceptre and the isle-
Well-loved of me, discerning to fulfill
This labor, by slow prudence to make mildc
A rugged people, and through soft degrees
Subdue them to the useful and the good.c
Most blameless is he, centered in the sphere
Of common duties, decent not to fail
In offices of tenderness, and pays
Meet adoration to my household gods
When I am gone. He works his work, I mine.

There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail:c
there glow the dark broad seas. my mariners,
Souls that have toiled, and wrought, and thought
with me-
That ever with a frolic welcome took
The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed
Free hearts, free foreheads - you and I are old;
Old age hath yet his honor and his toil;
Death closes all: but something here the end
Some work of noble note, may yet be done
Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods.
The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:c
The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deeps
Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends, with
"Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smites
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.c
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:c
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew
Thought much is taken, much abides; and though
We are not now that strength which in old days
moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;
one equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.