Uil'yam Blejk. Izbrannye stihi

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Uil'yam Blejk. Izbrannye stihi

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Sostavlenie, predislovie i kommentarii A. M. Zvereva
Blejk U. Izbrannye stihi. Sbornik. Sost. A. M. Zverev. Na angl. i
russk. yaz. - M.: Progress. - 1982.
OCR Bychkov M.N.
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VELICHIE BLEJKA

Uil'yamu Blejku (1757-1827) vypalo zhit' v epohu, kogda kruto menyalsya
privychnyj poryadok veshchej.
On byl sovremennikom dvuh velikih revolyucij: Amerikanskoj 1776 goda i -
spustya trinadcat' let - Francuzskoj. Bushevali napoleonovskie vojny.
Volnovalas' Irlandiya. Dovedennye do otchayaniya rabochie lomali stanki, i lord
Bajron proiznes v parlamente rech', zashchishchaya ludditov.
Bol'shie sobytiya istorii i vyzvannye imi bitvy bol'shih idej prochno
vpleteny v biografiyu Blejka. Vneshne ona monotonna, ot nachala i do konca
zapolnena tyazhkim povsednevnym trudom za groshi. Neudachi, nepriznanie, neuyut -
vot ego zhizn' god za godom. Vse eto tak ne pohozhe na tipichnyj literaturnyj
byt togo vremeni, chto mnogie pisavshie o Blejke porazhalis', kakim obrazom on
smog podnyat'sya nad surovoj budnichnost'yu, stav velikim hudozhnikom i poetom.
CHitaya posvyashchennye Blejku knigi, podchas trudno osoznat' intensivnost' i
glubinu proishodivshej v nem duhovnoj raboty. O nej govoryat ne stol'ko
biograficheskie fakty, skol'ko proizvedeniya, ostavshiesya po bol'shej chasti
neizvestnymi sovremennikam, hotya imenno v tvorchestve Blejka nashel, byt'
mozhet, svoe samoe celostnoe i samoe svoeobraznoe otrazhenie ves' tot
istoricheskij period, perelomnyj dlya sudeb Evropy.
Pered nami ne stol' uzh chastyj sluchaj, kogda hudozhnik uhodit v polnoj
bezvestnosti, i eshche dolgo vremya lish' zametaet o nem vsyakuyu pamyat', no uzh
zato posle posmertnogo "otkrytiya" slava nakatyvaet takimi moguchimi volnami,
chto potomkam kazhetsya nepostizhimoj vypavshaya geniyu gor'kaya, zhestokaya sud'ba.
Syn chulochnika, s desyati let otdannyj v uchenie graveru i dal'she
zarabatyvavshij sebe na hleb etim remeslom, on s detstva uznal, chto takoe
social'naya otverzhennost'. London v tu poru stremitel'no ros, toropyas'
zastroit' nedavnie okrainy korpusami manufaktur, verfyami, prizemistymi
gryaznovatymi domami, gde obitalo proletarskoe naselenie vsemirnoj stolicy.
Blejk prinadlezhal etomu miru. V sushchnosti, on byl samym nastoyashchim rabochim, v
periody vynuzhdennyh prostoev sushchestvovavshim isklyuchitel'no za schet shchedrosti
nemnogih druzej.
Na vsyu ego zhizn' vydalos' tol'ko tri bolee ili menee blagopoluchnyh goda
(1800-1803), kogda mecenat Uil'yam Hejli uvez Blejka v svoe primorskoe
pomest'e, zakazav portrety vydayushchihsya pisatelej, k sonmu kotoryh vtajne
prichislyal i samogo sebya, - ot bezdel'ya on sochinyal nazidatel'nye virshi.
Otlichayas' dobroserdechiem, Hejli iskrenne hotel pomoch' svoemu protezhe, no
rovnym schetom nichego ne ponimal ni v ideyah Blejka, ni v ego iskusstve.
Beskonechnye poucheniya, kotorymi soprovozhdalis' ego milosti, dokuchali poetu
nastol'ko, chto on predpochel vernut'sya v London k svoemu polugolodnomu
neustroennomu zhit'yu. Poslednie dvadcat' chetyre goda Blejk prozhil v stolice
bezvyezdno. Zdes' on i umer. I byl pogreben na sredstva fonda obshchestvennogo
prizreniya - v bezymyannoj yame dlya nishchih.
Prohodit dvadcat' let. Vesennim dnem molodoj hudozhnik Dante Gabriel'
Rossetti (Dante Gabriel Rossetti, 1828-1882), royas' v bogatejshej kollekcii
gravyur, sobrannoj v Britanskom muzee, obnaruzhivaet na stole hranitelya pachku
sshityh listov, kotorye pokryty risunkami i stihami "neschastnogo vizionera",
etogo "zhalkogo bezumca", kak otzyvalis' o Blejke ego nemnogochislennye
znakomye po artisticheskomu miru. Voobrazhenie budushchego glavy
"Prerafaelitskogo bratstva" (Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood) porazheno, on s
gotovnost'yu vyplachivaet trebuemye hranitelem desyat' shillingov. I s etoj
rukopisi, imenuemoj teper' v katalogah "Manuskriptom Rossetti", nachinaetsya
vozrozhdenie Blejka. Nachinaetsya, chtoby uzhe ne zavershit'sya - vplot' do nashih
dnej, kogda imya Blejka nazyvayut odnim iz pervyh, govorya o predtechah
sovremennoj angloyazychnoj poezii.
Strannyj zhrebij! |ti strannosti budut dolgo zanimat' issledovatelej
Blejka, dazhe segodnyashnih, ne govorya uzhe o rannih (v ih chisle eshche odnogo
prerafaelita Aleksandra Gilkrista (Alexander Gilchrist, 1828-1861),
otdavshego mnogie gody svoej dvuhtomnoj rabote o Blejke, i Aldzhernona
Suinberna (Algernon Swinburne, 1837-1909), v 1868 g. napechatavshego
vostorzhennuyu knigu o poete). Vossozdavaya stranicy ego tvorcheskoj biografii,
vse oni skazhut o porazitel'noj slepote togdashnih literaturnyh i
hudozhestvennyh avtoritetov i zadnim chislom primutsya ih uprekat' za
dogmaticheskuyu priverzhennost' kanonam, v kotorye ne ukladyvalos' blejkovskoe
esteticheskoe videnie.
Vspomnyat oni i o beznadezhnoj bor'be, kotoruyu Blejk vel s Korolevskoj
akademiej, vozglavlyaemoj serom Dzhoshua Rejnol'dsom (Joshua Reynolds,
1723-1792), velikolepnym portretistom, ne terpevshim, vprochem, ni malejshih
otstuplenij ot prinyatyh pravil risunka i kompozicii. Akademiya raz za razom
otklonyala blejkovskie raboty, nahodya ih diletantskimi. V ee zaly ne byli
propushcheny ego illyustracii k Dante, kak i gravyury po motivam "Knigi Iova",
nyne priznannye odnoj iz vershin romanticheskogo iskusstva. Bylo ot chego
prijti v otchayanie.
V 1809 godu sostoyalas' edinstvennaya personal'naya vystavka Blejka. On
ustroil ee na vtorom etazhe doma, gde pomeshchalas' lavka ego
brata-galanterejshchika. |ksponirovalis' glavnym obrazom illyustracii k
"Kenterberijskim rasskazam" (Canterbury Tales) Dzheffri CHosera (Geoffrey
Chaucer, 13407-1400). Blejk otpechatal katalog, soderzhavshij glubokij razbor
etogo proizvedeniya i izlozhenie sobstvennogo hudozhestvennogo kredo. No
pokupatelej ne nashlos'. Da i posetitelej tozhe. A edinstvennaya recenziya,
napechatannaya v "|kzeminere", izobilovala kolkostyami po adresu hudozhnika i
uvenchivalas' utverzhdeniem, chto ego sledovalo by "upryatat' v zheltyj dom, ne
bud' on stol' bezobiden v bytu".
CHerez shestnadcat' let etot katalog popal v ruki Vordsvorta (William
Wordsworth, 1770-1850). Pochtennyj metr sudil snishoditel'nee, chem gazetnyj
borzopisec. Stihov Blejka on ne znal i ne pozhelal s nimi poznakomit'sya, a ob
ego ideyah tozhe otozvalsya kak o svidetel'stve "bezumiya", no pribavil: "Ono
dlya menya interesnee, chem zdravyj smysl Val'tera Skotta i lorda Bajrona".
Vordsvort i zdes' svodil davnie literaturnye schety - pod starost' eto
sdelalos' dlya nego chut' li ne osnovnym zanyatiem, - no tem ne menee iskru
sil'nogo darovaniya on sumel pochuvstvovat' pri vsej svoej zavedomoj
predvzyatosti. Odnako v "bezumii" etogo talanta ne usomnilsya i Vordsvort.
Svoego roda mif, slozhivshijsya eshche na zare tvorchestva Blejka, soputstvoval emu
do konca.
CHto zhe pobuzhdalo sovremennikov s takoj uverennost'yu govorit' o
"bezumii", o "bol'nom", pust' i sil'nom, voobrazhenii, o nezdorovyh grezah i
vospalennoj fantazii? Otchego tak dramatichno slozhilas' sud'ba Blejka,
okazavshegosya molchalivo, no neprobivaemo izolirovannym ot anglijskoj kul'tury
rubezha dvuh stoletij, ot vozmozhnogo chitatelya, vozmozhnogo zritelya?
Otvet, kazhetsya, naprashivaetsya sam soboj: ego hudozhestvennoe videnie
bylo slishkom novatorskim, chtoby najti ponimanie i otklik u lyudej togo
vremeni. Byli, konechno, isklyucheniya, no uzh ochen' redkie. Tomas Batts,
ministerskij chinovnik, plenennyj darovaniem Blejka i plativshij emu po ginee
za list, dostavlyaya osnovnoj zarabotok. Ili - uzhe v poslednie gody -
nachinayushchij hudozhnik Dzhon Linell, ch'e imya sohranilos' v istorii zhivopisi ne
tol'ko blagodarya sobstvennym rabotam, no prezhde vsego potomu, chto on zakazal
Blejku dantovskij cikl. Dlya drugih, vklyuchaya i togdashnih znamenitostej, Blejk
byl slishkom neobychen, slishkom ogromen - i kak hudozhnik, i kak poet.
Trebovalos' vremya, chtoby yasno prostupili masshtaby i sushchnost' sdelannogo im v
iskusstve.
Konechno, Blejk, kak mnogie velikie hudozhniki, operedil svoyu epohu. V
etom smysle drama ego zhizni ne tak uzh neobychna, tem bolee - dlya epohi
romantizma, ch'i geroi stol'ko raz rasplachivalis' za svoj vyzov duhovnoj,
social'noj, hudozhestvennoj kosnosti, snosya izdevki i ponosheniya, goneniya i
travlyu.
No Blejk - yavlenie rezko specificheskoe i na takom fone. Samo ego
videnie, sovremennikami pochitavsheesya bezumnym, a potomkami - genial'nym,
obladaet nastol'ko svoeobraznymi istokami, chto tut vryad li umestna (i uzh vo
vsyakom sluchae nedostatochna) do stereotipnosti obobshchennaya romanticheskaya
formula nepriznannosti kak svoego roda nepremennogo usloviya bytiya nastoyashchego
hudozhnika.
Nachat' hotya by s togo, chto voleyu obstoyatel'stv Blejk i v samom dele
byl, po togdashnim merkam, diletantom. Akademiya ego ne priznavala. Izdateli
ne brali ego knig. V tipografii byl napechatan tol'ko samyj pervyj, eshche pochti
uchenicheskij sbornik "Poeticheskie nabroski" (1783), gde povsyudu slyshatsya
otgoloski sentimentalizma, v chastnosti "Nochnyh myslej" The Complaint; or
Night Thoughts on the Life, Death, and Immortality, 1742-1745) |dvarda YUnga
(Edward Young, 1683-1765), kotorye Blejku vposledstvii dovelos'
illyustrirovat'. Sredstva dlya izdaniya ssudil priyatel' Blejka hudozhnik Dzhon
Flaksmen. Svoyu leptu vnes i svyashchennik Genri Met'yu, v ch'em dome sobiralis'
prihozhane, ne chuzhdye literaturnyh interesov. On bez vedoma avtora ispravil
neskol'ko vklyuchennyh v knigu stihotvorenij, i eto vozmutilo Blejka. Avtor
zabral tirazh iz tipografii i unichtozhil ego pochti polnost'yu. Bol'she on
nikogda ne obrashchalsya za pomoshch'yu k takogo roda blagodetelyam. A ni odin
tipograf ne risknul by vypustit' knizhku bezvestnogo avtora za svoj schet.
I Blejku prishlos' stat' sobstvennym izdatelem. On izobrel osobyj sposob
"illyuminovannoj pechati": graviroval listy i, vruchnuyu ih raskrasiv, sshival.
Tak v neskol'kih desyatkah ekzemplyarov opublikoval on svoi "Pesni Nevedeniya i
Poznaniya", a zatem i tak nazyvaemye "prorocheskie knigi" {Svod poem,
poluchivshij v pozdnejshih issledovaniyah nazvanie "prorocheskie knigi",
sozdavalsya Blejkom na protyazhenii treh desyatiletij - priblizitel'no s 1789 po
1820 gg. Edinstvo etomu ciklu pridaet, glavnym obrazom, voplotivshayasya v nem
poeticheskaya filosofiya i mifologiya Blejka. Sovremennye literaturovedy
vydelyayut v "prorocheskih knigah" neskol'ko vnutrennih ciklov: 1) rannie
"prorochestva" - "Tiriel'", "Kniga Tel'", eshche dostatochno tradicionnye po
obraznosti i hudozhestvennym motivam; 2) poemy, neposredstvenno svyazannye s
politicheskimi sobytiyami konca XVIII v. - "Francuzskaya revolyuciya", "Amerika",
"Evropa", otchasti "Videniya dshcherej Al'biona"; 3) tak naz. "malye prorocheskie
knigi", soderzhashchie v sebe blejkovskoe istolkovanie mifa o grehopadenii i
kritiku kanonicheskoj hristianskoj teologii, - "Pervaya kniga Urizena", "Kniga
Ahanii", "Kniga Losa"; 4) filosofskie poemy, predstavlyayushchie soboj izlozhenie
vazhnejshih kosmogonicheskih, teologicheskih, nravstvennyh i hudozhestvennyh idej
Blejka, - "Brakosochetanie Raya i Ada", "Mil'ton", "Ierusalim" (podobnuyu
klassifikaciyu sm., napr., v kn.: Martin K. Nurmi. Villiam Blake. Lnd.,
1975].}. Ottiski prodavalis' v ego masterskoj. Tochnee skazat', pylilis' na
polke. Sprosa ne bylo, i posle smerti Blejka bol'shinstvo knig propalo. Te,
chto chudom uceleli, teper' stoyat celoe sostoyanie.
S distancii v poltora veka, byt' mozhet, pokazhetsya, chto eta neobychnaya
situaciya v kakom-to smysle byla dlya Blejka blagom: ona izbavila ego ot
kabaly togdashnih izdatelej, a v tom, chto slovo ego rano ili pozdno budet
uslyshano, poet-providec, kakim on sebya schital, somnevat'sya ne mog. Odnako
Blejk perezhival sozdavsheesya polozhenie dostatochno tyazhelo, osypaya gradom
epigramm svoih bolee udachlivyh - i menee shchepetil'nyh v literaturnyh delah -
sovremennikov, a v pis'mah tem nemnogim, kto byl emu blizok, zhaluyas' na
tupoumie torgovcev kartinami i tipografov, kak i na ih rabolepstvo pered
avtoritetami vrode Rejnol'dsa.
Da i dolzhna li udivlyat' gorech' i yarost' etih ego strok? S yunosti
blizkij k radikalam - takim, kak Dzhozef Dzhonson (Joseph Johnson, 1743-1811)
ili Tomas Pejn (Thomas Paine, 1737-1809), - podobno im vpryamuyu otklikavshijsya
na zlobu dnya i zhivshij politicheskimi strastyami svoej epohi,. Blejk, konechno,
pisal ne dlya istorii, a dlya sovremennosti i, kak kazhdyj poet, hotel byt'
uslyshan. A ego auditoriyu obychno sostavlyalo vsego neskol'ko chelovek. I dazhe
oni cenili v Blejke, kak pravilo, lish' talant hudozhnika, ostavayas'
ravnodushnymi k ego ideyam.
Sohranilos' svidetel'stvo sovremennika, chto edinstvennym, kto sorok s
lishnim let podderzhival Blejka, polnost'yu razdelyaya ego obshchestvennye i
nravstvennye ubezhdeniya, byla zhena poeta Ketrin Vaucher. Nado dumat', chto eyu
neredko i ogranichivalsya krug chitatelej ego proizvedenij. Vo vsyakom sluchae,
net nikakih faktov, ukazyvayushchih, chto kto-nibud' pri zhizni Blejka prochel
stihi, ostavshiesya v rukopisyah, - a ved' sredi nih est' veshchi, pervostepenno
vazhnye dlya nego: "Stranstvie", "Hrustal'naya shkatulka"...
Pryamym sledstviem etoj izolyacii byla zhitejskaya neustroennost', nishcheta i
obida na sovremennikov. Kosvennym - specificheskaya tvorcheskaya poziciya Blejka,
v nemaloj mere predopredelivshaya i svoeobrazie sozdannogo im hudozhestvennogo
mira. Dlya istorii iskusstva 'eto, konechno, samoe glavnoe. No nel'zya zabyvat'
i o toj cene, kotoroj bylo oplacheno eto svoeobrazie.
Neobychnost' blejkovskogo mira pochuvstvuet kazhdyj, kto otkroet tom ego
stihov, illyustrirovannyj gravyurami. Stihi i risunok s samogo nachala
sostavlyali edinyj hudozhestvennyj kompleks - eto mnogoe ob®yasnyaet v ih
obraznosti. Eshche sushchestvennee sam fakt, chto Blejk vynuzhdenno okazalsya v
storone ot literaturnyh batalij svoego veka, ot ego vkusov, uvlechenij,
sporov. Ot ego rashozhih ponyatij. Dazhe ot ego obihodnogo poeticheskogo yazyka.
On ne zhdal uspeha i ne stremilsya k nemu. V samom pryamom smysle slova
poeziya byla dlya nego duhovnoj potrebnost'yu, i tol'ko. On ne oglyadyvalsya ni
na prinyatye kanony, ni na proverennye chitatel'skim priznaniem obrazcy. Idei,
vyrazivshiesya v ego knigah, metafory i simvoly, v kotoryh oni zapechatleny,
ves' poeticheskij mir Blejka menee vsego orientirovan na sushchestvuyushchuyu normu,
imet' li v vidu estetiku konca XVIII veka ili romanticheskie ustremleniya.
Pri vseh yavnyh i skrytyh pereklichkah s harakternymi motivami literatury
togo vremeni, poeziya Blejka oshchutimo vydelyaetsya na obshchem fone, pobuzhdaya
nekotoryh issledovatelej govorit' o tom, chto eto yavlenie voobshche neorganichno
dlya anglijskoj poeticheskoj tradicii, kakoj ona skladyvalas' vplot' do
romantikov i dazhe posle nih - do XX veka. Ochevidnoe preuvelichenie, no tem ne
menee zdes' est' dolya istiny. Soderzhanie, kotoroe raskrylos' v stihah i
"prorocheskih knigah" Blejka, i v samom dele ne imeet analogij ni v
predshestvuyushchej, ni v sovremennoj Blejku anglijskoj literature. I ono
opredelilo noviznu, samobytnost' ego poetiki.
Prerafaelity videli v nem geniya, obitavshego v sfere chistoj duhovnosti.
A na dele ego nel'zya ponyat', ne oceniv v ego stihah obraznosti, naveyannoj
toj gruboj povsednevnost'yu trushchobnyh kvartalov, kotoraya emu byla privychna s
detstva. Ona voshla v poeziyu Blejka, soobshchiv ej nebyvaluyu rezkost' social'nyh
shtrihov, grafichnost' obrazov i takoj vsepronikayushchij urbanizm kolorita, budto
ego stihi byli napisany ne v konce XVIII veka, a po men'shej mere stoletiem
pozzhe.
Duhovnye korni Blejka uhodyat v tu zhe pochvu. Ta sreda, gde vyros Blejk,
prodolzhala hranit', peredavaya iz pokoleniya v pokolenie, slozhivshiesya eshche v
srednevekov'e ereticheskie i sektantskie doktriny, v kotoryh za
vethozavetnymi ponyatiyami, kategoriyami i obrazami polyhaet edva sderzhivaemoe
plamya plebejskoj revolyucionnosti, a ideya Raya krepitsya trebovaniyami dostojnoj
zhizni na zemle. Presledovavshiesya eshche bolee zhestoko, chem neverie, eti ucheniya
- antinomiancev, familistov, "beshenyh", ioahimitov - vyderzhivali samye
besposhchadnye goneniya oficial'noj cerkvi i gosudarstva, a taivsheesya v nih
plamya na protyazhenii istorii ne raz vyryvalos' naruzhu, trebovaniya
vyskazyvalis' otkryto - vspomnit' hotya by o Tomase Myuncere, anabaptiste,
vozhde Krest'yanskoj vojny v Germanii, kaznennom, kak i bol'shinstvo ego
storonnikov.
Po sobstvennomu svidetel'stvu Blejka, on priobshchilsya k etoj oblechennoj v
religioznye simvoly plebejskoj ideologii eshche s yunosti. Mal'chikom ego uzhe
poseshchali misticheskie videniya. V 1788 godu byl prochitan trud |. Svedenborga
(1688-1772) "Mudrost' angelov", a zatem "Nebo i Ad" - odno iz osnovnyh
sochinenij shvedskogo mistika. V "prorocheskih knigah" povsyudu popadayutsya sledy
etogo chteniya. Ne raz pytalis' predstavit' Blejka posledovatel'nym
storonnikom etogo teologa, nahodya nechto znamenatel'noe v tom, chto
svedenborgianskaya "Novaya cerkov'" byla osnovana v god rozhdeniya poeta (1757).
Vliyanie nel'zya nedoocenivat', no nel'zya ne videt' i otkrytogo spora so
Svedenborgom, razvernutogo vo mnogih blejkovskih proizvedeniyah. Blejku
ostalsya sovershenno chuzhd svedenborgovskij ploskij moralizm, kak i
metafizichnost' kartiny mira, sozdannoj v "Nebe i Ade", gde duhovnoe prochno
otdeleno ot material'nogo, a sub®ektivnoe ot sushchego.
Ne mogut udivit' ni samo eto vozdejstvie, ni posleduyushchaya polemika. Idei
Svedenborga dali tolchok moshchnomu oppozicionnomu dvizheniyu sektantstva, no
vskore ono daleko pereroslo ramki svedenborgovskoj teologii. A Blejku byla
vazhna, konechno, ne sama po sebe teologiya, emu bylo vazhno vyrazhennoe na ee
yazyke stremlenie k spravedlivosti i podlinnoj duhovnosti bytiya. On vosprinyal
pronesennyj cherez stoletiya buntarskij duh, eto ereticheskoe tolkovanie
hristianstva kak zemnoj spravedlivosti, etu nravstvennuyu rigoristichnost' i
osobyj duhovnyj nastroj, pri kotorom surovoj meroj bozheskogo i sataninskogo
izmeryaetsya lyuboj, dazhe melkij lyudskoj postupok, i sobytiya segodnyashnej zhizni
vidyatsya kak organicheskoe prodolzhenie sobytij evangel'skoj istorii v ih
vysokom eticheskom smysle, i ves' put' chelovechestva predstaet kak ristalishche
Dobra i Zla, boryushchihsya so dnej tvoreniya. On vosprinyal osnovnuyu mysl'
ereticheskoj teologii - mysl' o chelovechnosti Hrista, sformulirovannuyu eshche v
XII veke ital'yanskim mistikom Ioahimom Florskim (ok. 1132-1202), ideyu
Vechnosushchego evangeliya, soglasno kotoroj bog est' ne sila vneshnyaya po
otnosheniyu k cheloveku, no vpervye vyyavlennaya v Iisuse vnutrennyaya duhovnaya
sila kazhdogo, vysvobozhdenie kotoroj oznamenuet gryadushchuyu epohu
bescerkovnosti, lyubvi, bratstva i svobody. On vosprinyal i simvoliku,
voznikayushchuyu uzhe v samyh rannih sektantskih propovedyah, - simvoliku
razrusheniya do kamnej Vavilona - porochnogo mira social'noj ierarhii i
cerkovnoj lzhi, i postroeniya Ierusalima - carstva chelovecheskogo ravenstva i
osushchestvlennoj hristianskoj normy, gosudarstva-utopii, togo Ierusalima,
kotoryj u Blejka "svobodoyu zovetsya sred' Al'biona synovej".
Ponyatiya, v kotoryh on myslil, davno utratili svoyu soderzhatel'nost',
odnako i cherez dva stoletiya ne potusknel demokratizm idej, vyrazhennyh na
etom trudnom dlya sovremennogo chitatelya yazyke. |to byl organichnyj,
estestvennyj demokratizm, i, sobstvenno, on i pobuzhdal Blejka vstupat' v
polemiku so vsemi filosofskimi vozzreniyami svoej epohi i otvergat' vse
prinyatye formy obshchestvennoj organizacii kak lozhnye v svete principov
Vechnosushchego evangeliya.
Emu byl gluboko chuzhd bekonovskij i lokkovskij racionalizm, v kotorom
Blejk videl utilitarnuyu, bezduhovnuyu filosofiyu, lish' skovyvayushchuyu vysshuyu
chelovecheskuyu sposobnost' - Voobrazhenie, tu sokrytuyu v kazhdom duhovnuyu i
nravstvennuyu energiyu, kotoroj dolzhny byt' sokrusheny temnicy Vavilona, chtoby
vozdvignut' na ih meste gorod spravedlivosti. Osnovnym opponentom Lokka
(John Locke, 1632-1704) byl episkop Berkli (George Berkeley, 1685-1753), no
ego idealizm, opravdyvavshij polozhenie veshchej v obshchestve providencial'noj
volej, u Blejka nahodil tol'ko odnu harakteristiku - "koshchunstvo". Cerkov' na
yazyke Blejka zvalas' Bludnicej, a na polyah broshyury berklianca R. Uotsona
(Richard Watson, 1737-1816) on napisal: "Gospod' sotvoril cheloveka
schastlivym i bogatym, i lish' hitroumie rasporyadilos' tak, chto neobrazovannye
bedny. Omerzitel'naya kniga".
Uotson napadal v svoem pamflete na Tomasa Pejna. Blejk byl horosho
znakom s etim vydayushchimsya deyatelem molodoj Ameriki po londonskomu kruzhku
deistov, kotoryj v yunosti ne raz poseshchal; v 1792 godu on dazhe pomog Pejnu
uskol'znut' ot ohotivshejsya za nim britanskoj policii. Godom ran'she byla
napisana "Francuzskaya revolyuciya", nabrannaya v tipografii rukovoditelya kruzhka
Dzh. Dzhonsona, no iz-za cenzurnyh strogostej ne napechatannaya i sohranivshayasya,
byt' mozhet, daleko ne polnost'yu. V nej Blejk eshche polon revolyucionnogo
entuziazma, poverzhennaya Bastiliya dlya nego - odin iz vavilonskih bastionov,
nakonec-to ruhnuvshij. Razvitie sobytij vo Francii vskore umerilo ego
vostorzhennye ozhidaniya; deizm, kotoryj ispovedovali radikal'no nastroennye
druz'ya Blejka, ostalsya emu chuzhd - on ne prinyal obychnogo u deistov razdeleniya
bozhestvennogo i chelovecheskogo nachal, v "Brakosochetanii Raya i Ada" ob®yaviv,
chto "vse zhivoe Svyashchenno"; on ne razdelyal s deistami predstavleniya o
sovremennom obshchestve kak skoplenii izolirovannyh, fragmentarnyh
sushchestvovanij, svyazannyh chisto mehanicheskimi otnosheniyami prichinnosti i
zavisimosti, on, v otlichie ot nih, ne primiryalsya i nikogda ne mog by
primirit'sya s takim poryadkom veshchej.
Vse eto kak budto davno otshumevshie spory, no porazitel'no, chto
argumenty Blejka - konechno, prezhde vsego te, kotorye zaklyuchaet v sebe ego
poeziya, ego iskusstvo, - napolnyayutsya novoj i novoj aktual'nost'yu. Prichina v
tom, chto so svoimi protivnikami Blejk sporil ne tol'ko kak myslitel'. On
sporil s nimi eshche i kak hudozhnik, slovno by samoj istoriej vyzvannyj iz
sredy lyudej, kotorym vsego vidnee byla oborotnaya storona "progressa", dlya
togo, chtoby v gigantskih kosmogonicheskih simvolah i tyazhelom semiudarnom
belom stihe, v kosnoyazychii nelovko postroennyh fraz zapechatlet' ee
napryazhennyj, zadyhayushchijsya hod na odnom iz samyh krutyh perevalov.
Zapechatlet' slom epoh, rozhdenie novyh protivorechij i novogo samosoznaniya
cheloveka v mire "sataninskih mel'nic", dymyashchihsya den' i noch' naprolet. I
potryaseniya dvuh pronesshihsya nad mirom revolyucij. I nesbyvshuyusya nadezhdu, chto
iz ih gornila yavitsya celostnaya, istinno svobodnaya i duhovnaya lichnost'.
Poeziya Blejka byla vyzvana k zhizni svoim vremenem i pochti bez
isklyuchenij yavlyalas' neposredstvennym otklikom na ego sobytiya. No ona daleko
pererosla znachenie svidetel'stva ob etom vremeni. V nej-to, byt' mozhet,
vpervye i vyrazilas' ta zhazhda celostnosti i polnocennosti chelovecheskogo
opyta i ta toska po nedostizhimoj svobode duhovnogo bytiya, kotorye stanut
nastojchivym, edva li ne central'nym motivom u evropejskih i amerikanskih
poetov uzhe v XX stoletii. Arhaichnaya po simvolike i yazyku dazhe i dlya svoej
epohi, ona napolnilas' soderzhaniem, v polnoj mere ponyatym tol'ko mnogo
desyatiletij spustya. Nuzhno bylo, chtoby obshcheznachimymi, zhguche aktual'nymi stali
yavleniya, tak trevozhivshie Blejka, kotoryj obnaruzhil ih eshche na ishode
blistatel'nogo i radostnogo prosvetitel'skogo veka, - rastushchaya
mehanistichnost' soznaniya, obretayushchegosya v sovremennom Vavilone, i
nasil'stvennoe ogranichenie svobodnoj chelovecheskoj voli, i zasil'e ploskogo
racionalizma i utilitarizma, povsemestno tesnyashchego Poeticheskij Genij,
Voobrazhenie, etu velichajshuyu i nezamenimuyu tvorcheskuyu sposobnost', bez
kotoroj net CHeloveka.
Ego tvorchestvo kazhetsya segodnya neobhodimym zvenom, soedinivshim duhovnye
i hudozhestvennye tradicii samyh rannih epoh evropejskoj istorii s
problematikoj, blizkoj kul'ture nashego vremeni. Postupatel'nost',
nepreryvnost' v dvizhenii iskusstva, da i vsej gumanisticheskoj mysli, bez
Blejka tak zhe nevozmozhny, kak bez ego lyubimyh poetov Dante i Mil'tona.
Voobrazhenie - verhovnoe bozhestvo Blejka, kotoromu posvyashcheny ego samye
vostorzhennye gimny, - okazyvaetsya klyuchevym ponyatiem blejkovskoj filosofii,
istoki kotoroj sleduet iskat' v ereticheskih i sektantskih vozzreniyah srednih
vekov, a otkliki i prodolzheniya - uzhe u romantikov, shedshih, togo ne vedaya,
protorennymi Blejkom putyami. Voobrazheniyu protivostoit Svoekorystie - Razum
racionalistov, zakovannyj v kruge zemnyh, tol'ko zemnyh, interesov, ili
abstraktnye al'ternativy Dobra i Zla, iz kotoryh ishodit kanonicheskaya
hristianskaya teologiya. Vrazhdebnye drug drugu, eti dve formy soznaniya dlya
Blejka identichny v svoem stremlenii zatrudnit', sdelat' vovse neosushchestvimym
neposredstvennoe obshchenie lichnosti s zaklyuchennym v nej samoj bogom, poznanie
sokrytoj v lyubom cheloveke duhovnoj substancii i ee svobodnoe razvitie. Sam
bog dlya Blejka ne bolee chem kosmicheskoe voobrazhenie, vol'no tvoryashchee mir v
soglasii so stremleniem lyudej k organicheskomu, celostnomu bytiyu i s
neobhodimost'yu esteticheskoj garmonii i krasoty.
Bor'ba Voobrazheniya i Svoekorystiya - motiv, glavenstvuyushchij vo vsej
blejkovskoj kosmogonii, vo vsej slozhnejshej obraznoj simvolike "prorocheskih
knig", i eto bor'ba za celostnogo cheloveka, priznavshego, vopreki konkretnym
obstoyatel'stvam svoego sushchestvovaniya, edinstvennoj i neprerekaemoj normoj
Poeticheskij Genij i sozdayushchego carstvo spravedlivosti iz kamnej razrushennogo
im Vavilona. Imenno iz toj pervomaterii, kotoroj napolnena ego segodnyashnyaya
zhizn' (eto vazhnaya osobennost' blejkovskogo myshleniya, rezko ego otlichayushchaya ot
utopistov, risovavshih nekij trudnodostizhimyj ideal dalekogo budushchego). Dlya
Blejka postroenie takogo carstva - zadacha dnya, zadacha kazhdogo pokoleniya i
dazhe kazhdogo cheloveka, obyazannogo vozdvigat' ego dlya sebya, a tem samym i dlya
chelovechestva.

x x x

Blejka tradicionno schitayut pervym po vremeni poetom anglijskogo
romantizma. Takoj vzglyad otnyud' ne bezosnovatelen. Vmeste s tem on ne vpolne
tochen.
Sdelat' etu ogovorku pobuzhdaet ne tol'ko sam fakt nevol'noj izolyacii
Blejka ot hudozhestvennoj zhizni toj perelomnoj epohi, kogda uverenno
prokladyval sebe dorogu romantizm, vidnejshie predstaviteli kotorogo libo
vovse ne znali o genial'nom gravere, libo otnosilis' k nemu s yavnoj
predvzyatost'yu. Tak, Kol'ridzh (Samuel Taylor Coleridge, 1772-1834), prochitav
"Pesni Nevedeniya", vyrazilsya v tom duhe, chto avtor ploho predstavlyaet sebe
psihologiyu rebenka, - svidetel'stvo yavnogo neponimaniya blejkovskogo zamysla.
Ni Bajron, ni SHelli (Percy Bysshe Shelley, 1792-1822), ni Kits (John Keats,
1795-1821) ni razu ne upomyanuli o Blejke, - veroyatno, dlya nih eto bylo
neznakomoe imya.
Sut' dela, vprochem, ne v etom. Sushchestvovali bolee glubokie, uzhe ne
svodimye k literaturnym razmezhevaniyam prichiny, kotorye predopredelili
konflikt Blejka kak s pokidavshim istoricheskuyu scenu Prosveshcheniem, tak i s
romanticheskoj filosofiej lichnosti i iskusstva, budorazhivshej molodye umy.
Strogo govorya, on ne podderzhal ni odnogo iz vazhnejshih obshchestvennyh,
filosofskih, esteticheskih ustremlenij toj pory. Osoznav 1789 god kak velikij
rubezh v istorii chelovechestva, on ne menee ostro perezhival zatem i krushenie
idej, nachertannyh na znameni Francuzskoj revolyucii, ne prinimaya ni toj
epohi, kotoroj ona polozhila konec, ni toj, chto rodilas' vmeste s neyu. V etom
smysle Blejk, konechno, prinadlezhit romantizmu. I tem udivitel'nee kazhetsya
rezkost' ego napadok na svojstvennyj romantikam kul't individual'nogo v
ushcherb vseobshchemu i na ih stremlenie stavit' v primer sovremennikam
netronutogo civilizaciej "estestvennogo" cheloveka.
Na samom dele eta polemika byla po-svoemu neizbezhnoj. Dlya Blejka s ego
radikal'nym demokratizmom i gluboko ukorenennymi chertami
narodno-utopicheskogo mirosozercaniya po-inomu opredelyalas' i privodila k inym
zaklyucheniyam ta neobhodimost' vybora mezhdu nahodyashchimsya v stanovlenii i
otoshedshim, s kotoroj v pervye desyatiletiya nachavshegosya "zheleznogo veka"
stolknulos' vse romanticheskoe pokolenie. Skazalos' i to, chto Blejk etomu
pokoleniyu predshestvoval i skoree predugadyval ego iskaniya, chem myslil v
kategoriyah romantizma.
Ko vremeni vyhoda v svet "Liricheskih ballad" (Lyrical Ballads, 1798)
Vordsvorta i Kol'ridzha, vozvestivshih prihod novoj shkoly, on byl uzhe
slozhivshimsya masterom, tesno svyazannym s krugom idej XVIII stoletiya, no
osoznavshim i voplotivshim ih krizisnost'. Uzhe byli napisany "Pesni Nevedeniya
i Poznaniya". I hotya romantikam eto ostalos' neizvestno, istoriya literatury
imenno ot etogo proizvedeniya proslezhivaet vazhnejshuyu romanticheskuyu temu
pereloma epoh i otkryvshegosya na takom istoricheskom styke novogo videniya
dushevnoj zhizni: ne razdelennost', a sovmeshchennost', sliyanie, edinstvo
"protivopolozhnyh sostoyanij chelovecheskoj dushi".
Da i mnogie drugie motivy i hudozhestvennye otkrytiya romantikov byli
predvoshishcheny Blejkom. Byt' mozhet, pervym v Evrope on ne tol'ko esteticheski
obosnoval, no voplotil v zhivom tvorchestve stol' sushchestvennoe dlya romantizma
vospriyatie vsego universuma kak absolyutnogo proizvedeniya iskusstva.
Blejkovskaya kosmogoniya nosit besprimesno hudozhestvennyj harakter, kak by ni
byli vazhny dlya nee opory, vozdvignutye filosofiej Svedenborga. "Prorocheskie
knigi" v svoej sovokupnosti obrazuyut samyj rannij romanticheskij epos, v
osnovanii kotorogo lezhit mif, ohvatyvayushchij vsyu istoriyu chelovechestva.
Bajronovskie misterii, poemy SHelli ob®ektivno voznikli na toj poeticheskoj
pochve, kotoraya uzhe byla vzryhlena Blejkom.
On byl i pervootkryvatelem togo zakona romanticheskogo mifologizma,
kotoryj vposledstvii tak yarko prostupil u Bajrona i SHelli, a na yazyke teorii
byl eshche v samom nachale XIX veka sformulirovan SHellingom (1775-1854), v svoih
ienskih chteniyah govorivshim o "mifologicheskom ob®yasnenii konkretnogo mira kak
smesheniya beskonechnogo i konechnogo nachal v chuvstvennyh veshchah" {Fr. V.
SHelling. Filosofiya iskusstva. M., 1966. s. 139.}. I bolee togo. Poety
romanticheskogo pokoleniya opiralis' na nekie ustojchivye, obladavshie bol'shoj
hudozhestvennoj istoriej mifologicheskie "syuzhety" (Kain, Prometej), a Blejk
dazhe polnee, chem oni, osushchestvil princip, kotoryj v shellingovoj "Filosofii
iskusstva" - etoj esteticheskoj biblii romantizma - vydelen kak opredelyayushchij
dlya istinnogo iskusstva: "Vsyakij velikij poet prizvan prevratit' v nechto
celoe otkryvshuyusya emu chast' mira i iz ego materiala sozdat' sobstvennuyu
mifologiyu; mir etot (mifologicheskij mir) nahoditsya v stanovlenii, i
sovremennaya poetu epoha mozhet otkryt' emu lish' chast' etogo mira; tak budet
vplot' do toj lezhashchej v neopredelennoj dali tochki, kogda mirovoj duh sam
zakonchit im samim zadumannuyu velikuyu poemu i prevratit v odnovremennost'
posledovatel'nuyu smenu yavlenij novogo mira" {Tam zhe, s. 147-148.}.
SHelling podkreplyaet svoyu mysl' otsylkoj k Dante. On mog by soslat'sya na
Blejka - edinstvennogo iz ego sovremennikov, kto v polnoj mere sledoval etoj
hudozhestvennoj programme, vyrazhayushchej vysshie ustremleniya romanticheskogo
iskusstva.
Odnako dazhe takaya glubokaya rodstvennost' blejkovskogo tvorchestva
romantizmu ne priglushila ser'eznyh rashozhdenij, dayushchih sebya pochuvstvovat'
prezhde vsego v social'nyh ideyah i eticheskoj koncepcii.
Govorya v samoj obshchej forme, rashozhdeniya opredelyalis' otkazom Blejka
priznat' primat ideal'nogo nad material'nym - dlya romantikov edva li
podlezhashchij somneniyu. Dialekticheskoe videnie Blejka trebovalo priznaniya etih
dvuh nachal ravnopravnymi. V ego hudozhestvennoj vselennoj oni ediny do
nerazlichimosti.
Zdes' naglyadno proyavilos' duhovnoe vospitanie XVIII stoletiya i eshche
oshchutimee skazalis' razmyshleniya nad stranicami Svedenborga i spory s nim.
Osobenno sushchestvennuyu rol' sygrala shkola YAkoba Beme (1575-1624),
proshtudirovannogo v gody, reshayushchie dlya formirovaniya Blejka. Ob etom nemeckom
mistike, zhivshem za poltora veka do Blejka, Gercen otozvalsya kak o cheloveke
"genial'noj intuicii", kotoryj "podnyalsya do velichajshih istin", hotya i byl
zaklyuchen v misticheskuyu terminologiyu: on "imel tverdost' ne ostanavlivat'sya
na bukve... on dejstvoval razumom, i misticizm okrylyal ego razum" {A. I.
Gercen. Sobr. soch. v 9-ti tt., t. 9, M., 1958, s. 118, 119.}.
Harakteristika, vpolne umestnaya i dlya Blejka. Ego misticizm ne imel
nichego obshchego ni s poeziej tajn i uzhasov, ni s tem harakternym dlya
romantikov tomleniem po nedostizhimomu carstvu chistoj ideal'nosti, kotoroe
pobuzhdalo k nastroeniyam begstva ot real'nogo mira v oblast' zapredel'nyh
otkrovenij i grez. Podobno Beme, Blejk byl po skladu svoego myshleniya
dialektikom, neizmenno ishodivshim iz vpechatlenij real'noj dejstvitel'nosti,
kak by ee ni preobrazhala ego tvorcheskaya fantaziya. I etot svoeobraznyj
"korrektiv real'nosti" - edva li ne samaya primechatel'naya osobennost' vsego
videniya Blejka.
Ona proslezhivaetsya i v ego lirike, i v "prorocheskih knigah". Kak lirik
Blejk poluchil priznanie eshche u prerafaelitov, i dolgoe vremya istoriki
literatury rassmatrivali ego tvorchestvo tak, slovno by ono celikom svodilos'
k "Pesnyam Nevedeniya i Poznaniya" i stiham iz rukopisej. "Prorocheskie knigi" -
nachinaya s "Brakosochetaniya Raya i Ada" do "Ierusalima" - byli vser'ez
prochitany lish' v samye poslednie desyatiletiya. Osobenno veliki zdes' zaslugi
vidnogo kanadskogo literaturoveda Nortropa Fraya (Northrop Frye, b. 1910),
ch'e issledovanie "Pugayushchaya simmetriya" (The Fearful Symmetry: A Study of
William Blake, 1947) yavilos' podlinnoj vehoj v blejkiane, kak, vprochem, i
kniga amerikanskogo literaturoveda Devida |rdmana (David Erdman, b. 1904)
"Prorok v bitve s imperiej" (Blake: Prophet against Empire, 1954),
razveyavshaya predstavlenie o Blejke kak o vizionere, kotoromu ne mogli byt'
interesny strasti svoego vremeni i kipevshaya vokrug bor'ba idej {Sovetskoe
literaturovedenie vsegda rassmatrivalo Blejka v social'no-istoricheskom
kontekste ego epohi (sm. raboty A. A. Elistratovoj, V. M. ZHirmunskogo, E. A.
Nekrasovoj i dr.).}.
Segodnya Blejk vosprinimaetsya prezhde vsego kak filosofskij poet,
nadelennyj neoslabevayushchim interesom k social'noj konkretnosti okruzhayushchego
mira, k etoj ego pervomaterii, pitayushchej tvorcheskuyu fantaziyu hudozhnika.
|ta konkretika vhodit uzhe v ego "pesni" rannego perioda, soobshchaya mnogim
iz nih ostruyu zlobodnevnost', kotoruyu dolzhny byli horosho chuvstvovat'
togdashnie chitateli Blejka, skol' ni uzok byl ih krug. V "prorocheskih
knigah", poeticheskimi sredstvami mifa vossozdayushchih byloe, nastoyashchee i
budushchee Al'biona - simvola chelovechestva, fragmenty hristianskoj, indijskoj,
antichnoj mifologii dopolnyayutsya specificheski blejkovskimi motivami i
personazhami, i voznikaet celostnyj obraz epohi s ee nadezhdami, zabotami,
protivorechiyami.
Aktual'nyj dlya togo vremeni "syuzhet" vsegda okazyvalsya u Blejka otzvukom
vechnoj dramy, v kotoroj stalkivayutsya bogoravnyj svobodnyj chelovek i
prostertyj nic pered altarem prihozhanin, Poeticheskij Genij i utilitarnyj
Razum, Voobrazhenie i Svoekorystie. I sama drama napolnyaetsya soderzhaniem tem
bolee glubokim, chto ona razvertyvaetsya v konkretnom istoricheskom kontekste,
osoznaetsya i perezhivaetsya real'no, oshchutimo vossozdannoj istoricheskoj
lichnost'yu, kakoj v "prorocheskih knigah" predstaet povestvuyushchee "ya". I kazhdaya
detal' podobnogo "syuzheta" stanovilas' komponentom blejkovskogo mifa o
cheloveke, vzyskuyushchem celostnosti i istinnoj duhovnosti bytiya v mire, uzhe
podchinennom utilitaristskomu zhizneponimaniyu so vsemi neischislimymi
bedstviyami, kotorye ono za soboj vlechet.
Aktual'nejshim "syuzhetom" teh let byla revolyuciya v koloniyah Novogo Sveta,
i "Amerika" (1793) donosit zhivye otgoloski umonastroeniya togdashnih
londonskih radikalov, verivshih, chto skoro zarya novoj, istinno razumnoj i
chelovechnoj civilizacii perekinetsya cherez okean. V poeme upomyanuto o reshayushchih
epizodah vojny myatezhnyh territorij protiv metropolii, nazvany gremevshie v tu
poru amerikanskie imena. |mocional'naya tonal'nost' "Ameriki", perepolnyayushchee
ee radostnoe chuvstvo zavoevannoj vol'nosti, lishnij raz svidetel'stvuet, chto
Blejk vo mnogom ostavalsya chelovekom XVIII stoletiya, kotoromu nenavisten
monarhicheskij despotizm i kotorogo p'yanit samo slovo Respublika.
No Blejk vosprinimal revolyuciyu, kak i vse na svete, prezhde vsego v ee
nravstvennom i esteticheskom smysle - kak shag na dolgom puti k carstvu
Poeticheskogo Geniya, vysvobodivshegosya iz okov.
I "Amerika" napisana ne dlya proslavleniya uspehov pobezhdayushchej
demokratii, hotya Blejk, nesomnenno, sochuvstvoval im vsej dushoj.
Glavenstvuyushchaya rol' prinadlezhit v poeme vpervye zdes' poyavlyayushchemusya Orku -
blejkovskomu Prometeyu i Adonisu, odnomu iz central'nyh personazhej mifologii
"prorocheskih knig". V spore s angelom Al'biona, olicetvoryayushchim pokornost'
zavedennomu poryadku veshchej, on ne tol'ko oblichaet anglijskuyu tiraniyu,
meshayushchuyu osushchestvit'sya amerikanskoj svobode; Blejku vazhnee vlozhennaya v usta
Orka mysl' o neobhodimosti revolyucij kak brodila duhovnoj energii cheloveka -
revolyucij, otnyud' ne zavershayushchihsya provozglasheniem politicheskoj
nezavisimosti, ibo rech' idet o razrushenii temnic Svoekorystiya v samom
chelovecheskom soznanii.
"Amerika" - eto gimn Svobode, i vyzov carstvu Nochi, carstvu Urizena,
kotoroe u Blejka simvoliziruet poryadok veshchej v sovremennom mire, i eshche odno
podtverzhdenie vernosti poeta svoemu idealu bogoravnoj lichnosti, nadelennoj
tvorcheskim, sozidayushchim Voobrazheniem. Kak i mnogie drugie blejkovskie poemy,
"Amerika" nazvana "prorochestvom" ne ottogo, chto avtor pytaetsya predskazat'
budushchee, - u Blejka prorok tot, kto v siyuminutnom razlichaet vechnoe i
neprehodyashchee. Ob istinnom smysle bor'by, razvernuvshejsya v koloniyah Novogo
Sveta, spor Orka i Urizena govorit chitatelyu Blejka bol'she, chem citiruemye v
poeme rechi Vashingtona i dostatochno dostovernye v celom kartiny podlinnyh
sobytij.
Kazhdaya podrobnost' napolnyaetsya znacheniem simvola, istoricheskaya
real'nost' stanovitsya mifologicheskoj, a pobeda revolyucii v koloniyah
osoznaetsya Blejkom prezhde vsego kak torzhestvo svobodnogo Geniya nad ploskim,
utilitarnym Razumom, oborachivayushchimsya politicheskoj tiraniej i "svoekorystnoj
svyatost'yu", kotoraya ochen' daleka ot istinnoj chelovechnosti. Blejk videl
ostree mnogih vol'nodumcev ego epohi, kotorym kruzhili golovy vesti iz
Francii i iz Ameriki. Dazhe "Francuzskaya revolyuciya" pri vsem ee vostorzhennom
pafose soderzhit nemalo napominanij o tom, v kakih mukah rozhdayutsya i
prinimayut harakter zakona gumannye normy obshchestvennoj zhizni. A v "Evrope",
kotoraya poyavilas' vsego tri goda spustya, postoyanno slyshitsya trevoga, i ona
vnushena ne tol'ko zagovorom monarhij protiv revolyucionnoj Francii, ne tol'ko
raspravoj nad chlenami londonskogo Korrespondentskogo obshchestva, zastavivshej
umolknut' anglijskih radikalov i respublikancev. Blejka trevozhit passivnost'
"obitatelya temnicy" - dushevnoj temnicy, v kotoroj obretaetsya ryadovoj
chelovek, ne probuzhdennyj k podlinnoj, vysokoj zhizni ni 4 iyulya 1776 goda, ni
shturmom Bastilii.
Poema vpervye vyrazila somneniya Blejka v tom, chto sobytiya vo Francii
dejstvitel'no znamenuyut soboj nachalo novoj ery dlya vsego chelovechestva.
Projdet eshche neskol'ko let, i Blejk, izbavivshis' ot mnogih illyuzij svoej
molodosti, rezko osudit bonapartizm. Vprochem, uzhe i Ork "Evropy" zametno
otlichaetsya ot Orka "Ameriki" - teper' eto podavlennyj duh, bluzhdayushchij v
chashchobah smerti.
Svoeobraznaya trilogiya, kotoruyu kak by obrazuyut "Francuzskaya revolyuciya",
"Amerika" i "Evropa", otrazila i protivorechiya epohi, i menyavshuyusya idejnuyu
orientaciyu Blejka v te burnye gody, kogda sozdavalis' eti "prorochestva".
Menyalos' i soderzhanie, vyrazhennoe vazhnejshimi personazhami blejkovskoj
mifologii: ottogo Ork i nadelen raznymi, poroj nesochetayushchimisya kachestvami i
funkciyami v otdel'nyh poemah cikla.
No vmeste s tem Blejk ne izmenil ni svoim demokraticheskim verovaniyam,
ni vazhnejshej dlya "prorocheskih knig" mysli o neoslabevayushchej bor'be polyarnyh
nachal, pridayushchej bytiyu dinamizm i nezavershennost'. V "Amerike" eta mysl'
vyrazhena vsego otchetlivee: mir stremitel'no dvizhetsya, dognivaet dolgaya Noch'
chelovechestva, i uzhe vidny pervye luchi Utra. Obraz, sozdannyj v finale poemy,
- grandioznyj, kosmicheskij obraz ognya, boryushchegosya s vodami Atlantiki i
bushuyushchego nad dvumya kontinentami, - zaklyuchaet v sebe mysl' ob ochistitel'nom
nravstvennom plameni revolyucii, kotoraya prizvana sokrushit' Vavilon,
vozdvignutyj v serdcah lyudej. Ne prosto politicheskij perevorot, a revolyuciya
duha yavlyaetsya dlya Blejka ruchatel'stvom, chto vody Atlantiki ne zatopyat
novosozdannyj materik Voobrazheniya, kak v svoe vremya zatopili oni anglijskij
ostrov, obrashchennyj v vavilonskuyu temnicu. Dlya Blejka naznachenie revolyucii -
priblizit' den', kogda ischeznut vse suhoputnye i vodnye granicy, razdelivshie
brat'ev po krovi, i lyudi snova stanut sem'ej, zhivushchej po zakonam, kotorye
zapisany v Vechnosushchem evangelii.
Tak blejkovskoe myshlenie preobrazhalo zlobodnevnye temy ego epohi. V nih
vkladyvalos' soderzhanie, tol'ko s nakopleniem istoricheskogo opyta
osoznavavsheesya v ego nastoyashchej znachimosti i priobretavshee svoyu podlinnuyu
aktual'nost', kogda tema, v blejkovskie vremena diskutirovavshayasya na vseh
uglah, uspevala davno uzhe sdelat'sya dostoyaniem professorov. "Bezumie" na
poverku okazyvalos' provideniem, i v etom smysle poemy dejstvitel'no
priobretali "prorocheskoe" znachenie.
Aktual'nym syuzhetom byla v te dni i bor'ba za zapreshchenie rabotorgovli; v
1787 godu bylo osnovano abolicionistskoe obshchestvo, shli parlamentskie preniya,
na kotorye v "Pesnyah Nevedeniya" Blejk otkliknulsya stihotvoreniem
"Negritenok". |to - redkie u nego "stihi na sluchaj", ih antirasistskij pafos
ocheviden. Odnako imi ne ischerpyvaetsya v blejkovskom tvorchestve sam "syuzhet".
Napisannye v 1793 godu "Videniya dshcherej Al'biona" posvyashcheny kak budto drugoj
teme; tol'ko otdel'nye stihi, - naprimer, o tirane Teotormone, u ch'ih nog,
"kak volny na pustynnom beregu, vskipayut golosa rabov", - neposredstvenno
vveli v poemu yavlenie, smushchavshee sovest' luchshih lyudej epohi. Oni i stali
zernom, iz kotorogo vyroslo vse "videnie". Rabstvo geroini poemy Utuny -
rabstvo "bezuteshnoj dushi Ameriki", duhovnoe rabstvo vseh, porozhdennoe
institutom rabovladeniya. Takogo instituta ne znaet Al'bion, no i ego docheri
"rydayut v rabstve", kotoroe dlya Blejka - universal'noe sostoyanie lyudskogo
roda: v Vavilone ideya ravenstva podmenena otnosheniyami raba i vladel'ca, a
princip svobody - sistemoj zakabaleniya, social'nogo i nravstvennogo.
Porazitelen etot yarko vyrazhennyj u Blejka dar osoznavat', kak pryamo
prichastny k anglijskim sud'bam i k sobstvennoj sud'be sobytiya, yavleniya,
kollizii dalekih stran i dalekih epoh, osoznavat' celostnost', nedelimost'
chelovechestva, vzaimosvyaz' beschislennyh yavlenij fizicheskogo i duhovnogo mira,
ih perehodnost', ih dvizhushcheesya edinstvo. Sobstvenno, Blejku i prinadlezhit
otkrytie dialekticheskogo vzglyada na real'nost', dialekticheskogo
hudozhestvennogo videniya.
Vsego posledovatel'nee ono voplotilos' v luchshem ego liricheskom cikle
"Pesni Nevedeniya i Poznaniya", a naibolee otkryto dialekticheskij princip
mirovospriyatiya byl sformulirovan v programmnoj dlya nego poeme
"Brakosochetanie Raya i Ada". Po pervomu vpechatleniyu ona kazhetsya prelyudiej k
romanticheskoj "d'yavoliade" s harakternym dlya nee proslavleniem Satany -
vol'nogo duha, brosayushchego vyzov samomu nebu. I kazhetsya ne bez prichiny. Odno
tol'ko zamechanie o Mil'tone, kotoryj "byl prirozhdennym Poetom i, sam ne znaya
togo, storonnikom D'yavola", kogda hotel vosslavit' Boga, - eto celaya
filosofiya, aforisticheski vyrazhennoe kredo vsego romanticheskogo
miroponimaniya. Da i postroenie poemy, tridcat'yu godami predshestvuyushchej
"Prometeyu" (Prometheus Unbound, 1820) SHelli i bajronovskim misteriyam, uzhe
polnost'yu otvechaet estetike romantizma. V epohu YUnga dazhe samyj
svobodomyslyashchij kritik ne mog by opravdat' etoj neobychnoj kompozicii s ee
prichudlivymi videniyami, s ee aforizmami, fragmentami ritmizirovannoj prozy,
filosofskim disputom poeta i prorokov, a zatem Angela i D'yavola.
Ne udostaivaya ni malejshim vnimaniem pravila shkol'noj poetiki, Blejk
sozdaet formu na glazah chitatelya, da i vazhna emu ne formal'naya
zavershennost', a vyrazhennaya do konca mysl'. I hotya po svoej suti eto mysl'
romanticheskaya, ponyat' ee mozhno, tol'ko okunuvshis' v atmosferu dozhivayushchego
svoj vek XVIII stoletiya. "Brakosochetanie Raya i Ada" - predel'noe usilie
Blejka v ego bor'be kak s utilitarnym Razumom, tak i s porabotivshej lyudej
Cerkov'yu-Bludnicej. Apogej ego titanicheskoj bor'by za osvobozhdenie
Poeticheskogo Geniya. Deklaraciya okonchatel'nogo razryva s ispoveduemymi ego
epohoj ponyatiyami moral'nogo dobra i zla, poskol'ku mir okazalsya na perelome,
na poroge velikogo sdviga, pered licom Apokalipsisa, i lish' raskreposhchennoe
Voobrazhenie, vysshij duhovnyj impul's, tayashchijsya v samom cheloveke, a ne
uslovnoe "dobro" i "zlo" obvetshalyh doktrin ukazyvaet vernyj put' v eti
grozovye gody.
Vsyakij odnostoronnij, zamknutyj v bytuyushchih ponyatiyah vzglyad na zhizn'
lish' obrekaet lichnost' na bezyshodnoe sushchestvovanie v tesnom pryamougol'nike
vavilonskih sten. Ved' zhizn' - eto Dvizhenie, a ono "voznikaet iz
Protivopolozhnostej. Vlechenie i Otvrashchenie, Mysl' i Dejstvie, Lyubov' i
Nenavist' neobhodimy dlya bytiya CHeloveka" - eto velikoe organicheskoe edinstvo
i otkrylos' Blejku "sredi adskih ognej", v besede s Isajej i Iezekiilem, v
ispytaniyah, kotorym podverg duhovnyj razum poeta soshedshij k nemu Angel.
Otkrylsya "bezmernyj mir vostorga, nedostupnyj vashim chuvstvam", - chuvstvam
uznikov Urizena, personazha, kotoryj v blejkovskoj mifologii olicetvoryaet
nesvobodnoe soznanie sovremennogo Al'biona. |to plen duha, plen mysli; no
"ZHizn' - eto Dejstvie", mysl' zhe tol'ko sluzhit Dejstviyu obolochkoj. "Dejstvie
- Vechnyj Vostorg".
Zdes' - sut' filosofskoj i poeticheskoj koncepcii, lezhashchej v fundamente
"Pesen Nevedeniya i Poznaniya".
Vprochem, nachatki dialekticheskogo postizheniya real'nosti mozhno obnaruzhit'
uzhe v "Poeticheskih nabroskah". Dazhe i za naibolee svetlymi, radostnymi
stihami etoj yunosheskoj knigi ugadyvaetsya ne vyrazhennoe otkryto, no uzhe
posetivshee Blejka chuvstvo protivorechivosti mira, ego neizbezhnoj i
neobhodimoj disgarmonii, neodnoznachnosti ego yavlenij. Bezumie u Blejka ne
anomaliya i ne vosslavlennoe vposledstvii romantikami sredstvo vozvysit'sya
nad prozaizmom zhizni, a "normal'noe" bytie priverzhenca obshcheprinyatyh
moral'nyh predstavlenij, nesposobnogo sovladat' s dialekticheskoj slozhnost'yu
i "vzryvchatost'yu" istinnoj, ne illyuzornoj dejstvitel'nosti. Plen lyubvi v
togdashnej poezii - nepremenno sladkij plen, vozvyshenie i ochishchenie dushi, u
Blejka zhe vysokoe schast'e sosedstvuet s rabstvom, i "lyubvi prekrasnyj knyaz'"
teshitsya bespomoshchnost'yu zhertv, oputannyh ego setyami (Song). Blejk napisal eti
stihi chetyrnadcatiletnim podrostkom; edva li dlya nih byl kakoj-to
biograficheskij povod - pered nami ne itog perezhitogo, a svidetel'stvo
formiruyushchejsya mysli.
V "Pesnyah Nevedeniya i Poznaniya" dialekticheskoe videnie Blejka
priobretaet glubinu i vseob®emlyushchuyu znachimost', dostupnuyu tol'ko velikomu
iskusstvu. Posle togo kak byli zaversheny "Pesni Poznaniya", Blejk nikogda ne
graviroval otpechatannyj im pyat'yu godami ran'she cikl o Nevedenii otdel'no. Da
eto edva li i bylo by vozmozhno, potomu chto smysl knigi, ee sushchestvo - mysl'
o nerazryvnosti duhovnogo opyta cheloveka, o ego celostnosti, obnimayushchej i
ob®edinyayushchej v nekoem vysshem sinteze zalozhennuyu v lichnosti ot rozhdeniya
"nevinnost'", chistotu - i vsyu neizbezhnuyu umudrennost' kazhdogo dalekim ot
ideala bytiem. |ta mysl' o neozhidannyh, dazhe paradoksal'nyh, poroyu
tragicheskih, no krepchajshih svyazyah, kotorymi skrepleny mechta i
dejstvitel'nost', detstvo i vzroslyj vozrast chelovechestva, ego Nevedenie i
Poznanie, sostavlyayushchie dva protivopolozhnyh, odnako, strogo sorazmernyh i
drug bez druga odinakovo nezavershennyh sostoyaniya Dushi.
Poetomu pochti kazhdomu stihotvoreniyu iz cikla o Nevedenii nahoditsya svoe
sootvetstvie v cikle o Poznanii, prichem otnosheniya vnutri etih par -
otnosheniya kontrasta, principial'noj raznonapravlennosti, no takzhe i
organicheskoj vzaimosvyazi, kotoruyu neobhodimo ponyat' i prinyat'. Zdes'-to, v
etoj idee tesnejshej sootnesennosti "sostoyanij", i voplotilsya blejkovskij
dialekticheskij vzglyad na real'nost', shvachennuyu v ee podvizhnosti, bor'be, v
rezkih perehodah ot sveta k teni i ot tragizma k vysokoj duhovnoj radosti, v
ee dinamike, v zhiznenosnom Dvizhenii, sokrushayushchem lyubuyu sholasticheskuyu Mysl'
i lyubuyu pretenziyu na absolyutnost' nravstvennyh kvalifikacij. Tam, gde
usmatrivayut lish' torzhestvuyushchee "Dobro", Blejk obnaruzhivaet i ushcherbnost'; v
tom, chto imenuyut "Zlom", - svoyu krasotu. I vsya kniga okazyvaetsya eshche odnoj
popytkoj oprovergnut' verovaniya veka, malo togo - izmenit' sam stroj ego
myshleniya.
Odnako hudozhestvennoe soderzhanie "Pesen" neizmerimo znachitel'nee ih
konkretnoj polemicheskoj zadachi. |to poeziya, gde mir osmyslen v sblizheniyah,
dlya blejkovskogo vremeni sovershenno neozhidannyh, v vysshej garmonii vechnogo i
neperenosimoj raschlenennosti social'nogo, tekushchego svoego bytiya, v
peresecheniyah polyarnostej: yagnenok, krotkij Agnec, - i sozdannyj tem zhe
Masterom v toj zhe kuzne oslepitel'no prekrasnyj tigr, voploshchenie velikoj
energii zhizni, ee neissyakaemogo ognya i yarosti, besposhchadnosti ee zakonov;
prozrevshij v carstve Nevedeniya, obretayushchij rech' cvetok - i drugoj cvetok,
bol'naya roza, zachahshaya pri soprikosnovenii s Poznaniem; siyayushchie lica detej
na svetlom prazdnike v hrame - i, v tot zhe samyj Svyatoj CHetverg, golodnye
detskie lica na ulicah s ih nikogda ne konchayushchejsya t'moj.
V takih protivostoyaniyah, v skvoznom kontraste vozdushnyh, legkih tonov
cikla o Nevedenii, gde vse na svete eshche dyshit radost'yu i schast'em, tochno v
dni tvoren'ya, i lakonichnoj, zhestkoj po shtrihu grafiki "Pesen Poznaniya",
izobrazhayushchih polnyj gorya makrokosm blejkovskogo Segodnya, v samih rezkih
pereklyucheniyah emocional'nogo i obraznogo ryada ulovlena tragichnost' sloma
epoh i vyrazheno chuvstvo, kotoroe ostavalos' nevedomo XVIII veku. |to chuvstvo
oborvavshejsya postupatel'nosti, edinonapravlennosti chelovecheskoj istorii,
chuvstvo diskretnosti i razorvannosti kazhdogo sushchestvovaniya, prishedshee na
smenu bylomu oshchushcheniyu ego polnoty i organichnosti, stol' blizkoe romantikam
(i eshche bol'she - poetam nashego stoletiya) chuvstvo poteryannosti v mire
raz®edinennyh lozh'yu cerkovnyh doktrin i poterpevshego bankrotstvo
obozhestvlennogo Razuma, sredi lyudej, kotorye podobny podsolnuhu, den' za
dnem tyanushchemusya k nebosklonu, no lish' utomlenno provozhayushchemu svetilo v ego
dvizhenii k inym, ozarennym krayam.
Pervootkryvateli Blejka - prerafaelity - vosprinimali "Pesni Nevedeniya
i Poznaniya" kak besprimesno romanticheskoe proizvedenie. I v samom dele,
mozhet pokazat'sya, chto osnovnoj motiv cikla - tragicheskoe nesovpadenie
ideal'nogo i real'nogo, estestvennogo sostoyaniya mira, kakim my ego vidim v
"Pesnyah Nevedeniya", i togo beschelovechnogo, duhovno steril'nogo miroporyadka,
kotoryj otkryvaetsya v "Pesnyah Poznaniya". |to chisto romanticheskij motiv. On
organichen dlya zamysla Blejka, no ne ischerpyvaet poeticheskuyu koncepciyu,
voploshchennuyu v ego shedevre.
Estestvennyj mir nikogda ne kazalsya Blejku idealom, nedostizhimym dlya
sovremennogo cheloveka. |to pobudilo ego kriticheski otnestis' k russoistskoj
doktrine "estestvennosti", stol' vazhnoj dlya romantizma. Romantiki doveryali
prirode, poryvayas' k begstvu ot civilizacii, i iskali panaceyu ot zla
dejstvitel'nosti v podrazhanii "estestvennomu" dobru, "estestvennoj" krasote.
Blejk govoril ne o podrazhanii, a o preobrazhenii mira tvorcheskoj fantaziej.
Odin zakazchik pozhalovalsya, chto fantaziya uvela Blejka slishkom daleko. I v
otvet Blejk napisal: "|tot Mir est' Mir Voobrazheniya i Videniya... dlya
cheloveka, nadelennogo Voobrazheniem, sama Priroda - tozhe Voobrazhenie".
Garmoniya prirody, na ego vzglyad, byla lish' predvoshishcheniem bolee
vysokoj garmonii, kotoruyu dolzhna sozdat' celostnaya i oduhotvorennaya
lichnost'. |to ubezhdenie predopredelilo i tvorcheskie principy Blejka. U
romantikov priroda - zerkalo dushi, u Blejka - skoree kniga simvolov. On ne
dorozhit ni krasochnost'yu pejzazha, ni ego dostovernost'yu, kak ne dorozhit i
psihologizmom. Vse okruzhayushchee vosprinimaetsya im v svete duhovnyh konfliktov,
i prezhde vsego cherez prizmu vechnogo konflikta mehanisticheskogo i svobodnogo
videniya. V prirode on obnaruzhivaet tu zhe passivnost' i mehanistichnost', chto
i v social'noj zhizni.
Poetomu i nevedenie, neporochnost', duhovnaya chistota, estestvennost' -
vse to, chto opredelyaet emocional'nuyu i obraznuyu gammu pervoj chasti cikla, -
dlya Blejka otnyud' ne yavlyaetsya lish' nekim utrachennym Raem. Ego mysl' slozhnee,
- byt' mozhet, naibolee polno ona peredana v obraze zabludivshegosya i
najdennogo rebenka, voznikayushchem i v "Pesnyah Nevedeniya" i v "Pesnyah
Poznaniya".
Rebenok olicetvoryaet soboj tip mirooshchushcheniya, obladayushchego organikoj i
celostnost'yu, kotorye uzhe nedostupny vzroslomu. V mire vzroslyh rebenok
vsegda odinok i neschasten. On slovno zabludivshayasya "istinnaya dusha"
chelovechestva. Dlya Blejka eta istinnost' - dar zhizni po zakonam voobrazheniya.
No i v carstve Nevedeniya podobnaya zhizn' ne mozhet byt' polnocenno
osushchestvlena. Poznanie - neizbezhnost' dlya kazhdogo, i ono vtorgaetsya dazhe v
svetlyj mir rebenka. Mal'chik teryaet v nochi otca, i potrebovalos'
vmeshatel'stvo Neba, chtoby najti obratnuyu dorogu. Predchuvstviem bluzhdanij po
tupikovym putyam Poznaniya otravlena radost' bytiya v Nevedenii.
Zdes' tozhe vystupaet chelovecheskaya razdelennost' i nesvoboda ot
zhestokogo real'nogo mira. Blejk otverg to oblegchennoe i illyuzornoe reshenie
muchivshego ego konflikta, kotoroe podskazyvali idei vozvrata k prirode, k
nravstvennomu i emocional'nomu nevedeniyu kak sredstvu preodoleniya etoj
nesvobody. Ona mogla byt' preodolena lish' posle togo, kak dusha vberet v sebya
ves' gor'kij opyt Poznaniya i preobrazit ego v soglasii s idealami duhovnosti
i krasoty, hranimymi kazhdym do toj pory, poka ne issyakla prisushchaya cheloveku
tvorcheskaya sposobnost' - Voobrazhenie, Videnie. Tol'ko togda "istinnaya dusha"
budet dejstvitel'no najdena - i chelovekom i chelovechestvom.
V mire Blejka polyarnosti Nevedeniya i Poznaniya, peresekayas', ne otricayut
drug druga. I v etom priznanii "protivopolozhnyh sostoyanij" neobhodimym
usloviem bytiya lichnosti, v etom otkaze ot soblaznov begstva v garmonichnyj,
bestrevozhnyj mir, ibo otdel'no ot Poznaniya ego prosto ne sushchestvuet, Blejk
reshitel'no rashoditsya s romanticheskoj filosofiej zhizni, slovno by operezhaya
ee i stanovyas' pryamym predshestvennikom poezii novejshego vremeni, vpervye o
sebe zayavivshej uitmenovskimi "List'yami travy" i lirikoj Bodlera.
Ego Nevedenie - ne idilliya, okrashivayushchaya detskie predstavleniya o mire,
i ne carstvo osushchestvlennoj mechty, prigrezivsheesya poetu v minuty nichem ne
omrachennoj dushevnoj yasnosti. |to dazhe i ne simvol s godami utrachivaemoj
poeticheskoj nastroennosti cheloveka, kogda emu nevozmozhnoj kazhetsya sama mysl'
o razrushenii, nesoglasovannosti, zhestokosti - v prirode li, v obshchestvennom
li ego sushchestvovanii.
Skoree eto nekoe duhovnoe kachestvo, podspudno hranyashchayasya pamyat' o tom,
kakim yavlyaetsya v mir - "vzroslyj" mir, neizbezhnyj dlya nego, kak i dlya vseh,
mir Poznaniya, dvizhushchijsya, polnyj protivorechij, prityagivayushchij i ottalkivayushchij

CONTENTS
SODERZHANIE

From "Poetical Sketches"
Iz knigi "Poeticheskie nabroski"

1. Song
1. Pesnya. Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
Perevod A. V. Parina
2. To Spring
2. K vesne. Perevod V. A. Potapovoj
3. To Summer
3. K letu. Perevod V. A. Potapovoj
4. To Autumn
4. K oseni. Perevod V. A. Potapovoj
5. To Winter
5. K zime. Perevod V. A. Potapovoj
6. Mad Song
6. Bezumnaya pesnya. Perevod A. V. Parina
7. To the Muses
7. K muzam. Perevod V. A. Potapovoj
8. Blind Man's Buff
8. Igra v zhmurki. Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
9. Gwin, King of Norway
9. Korol' Gvin. Ballada. Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
10. From "King Edward the Third"
10. Pesnya menestrelya. Perevod A. SHarapovoj

From "An Island in the Moon"
Stihi iz "Ostrova na lune"

11. To be or not to be
11. Byt' il' ne byt', vot v chem... Perevod V. L. Toporova
12. Leave, O leave me to my sorrows
12. Predostav' menya pechali... Perevod V. A. Potapovoj

Songs of Innocence and of Experience Shewing the Two Contrary States of
the Human Soul
Pesni Nevedeniya i Poznaniya, pokazyvayushchie dva protivopolozhnyh sostoyaniya
chelovecheskoj dushi

Songs of Innocence
Pesni Nevedeniya

13. Introduction
13. Vstuplenie. Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
Perevod V. L. Toporova
14. The Shepherd
14. Pastuh. Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
15. The Echoing Green
15. Zelenoe ay. Perevod V. L. Toporova
Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
16. The Lamb
16* YAgnenok. Perevod V. L. Toporova
Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
17. The Little Black Boy
17. Negritenok. Perevod V. L. Toporova
Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
18. The Blossom
18. Cvetok. Perevod V. B. Mikushevicha
19. The Chimney Sweeper
19/ Malen'kij trubochist. Perevod V. L. Toporova
Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
20. The Little Boy Lost
20.* Zabludivshijsya mal'chik. Perevod V. L. Toporova
Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
21. The Little Boy Found
21.* Mal'chik najdennyj. Perevod V. L. Toporova
Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
22. Laughing Song
22. Smeyushchayasya pesnya. Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
23. A Cradle Song
23. Kolybel'naya pesnya. Perevod K. D. Bal'monta
24. The Divine Image
24. Po obrazu i podobiyu. Perevod V. L. Toporova
25. Holy Thursday
25. Svyatoj chetverg. Perevod V. L. Toporova
Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
26. Night
26. Noch'. Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
* Perevod V. L. Toporova
27. Spring
27. Vesna. Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
28. Nurse's Song
28. Nyanyushkina pesnya. Perevod V. B. Mikushevicha
29. Infant Joy
29. Ditya-radost'. Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
30. A Dream
30. Son. Perevod V. L. Toporova
31. On Another's Sorrow
31. O skorbi blizhnego. Perevod S. YA. Marshaka

Songs of Experience
Pesni Poznaniya

32. Introduction
32. Vstuplenie. Perevod V. L. Toporova
33. Earth's Answer
33. Otvet Zemli. Perevod V. L. Toporova
34. The Clod and the Pebble
34. Kom Zemli i Kamen'. Perevod V. L. Toporova
35. Holy Thursday
35.* Svyatoj chetverg. Perevod V. L. Toporova
Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
36. The Little Girl Lost
36. Zabludshaya doch'. Perevod V. B. Mikushevicha
37. The Little Girl Found
37. Obretennaya doch'. Perevod V. B. Mikushevicha
38. The Chimney Sweeper
38. Malen'kij trubochist. Perevod V. L. Toporova
39. Nurse's Song
39. Nyanyushkina pesnya. Perevod V. B. Mikushevicha
40. The Sick' Rose
40. Bol'naya roza. Perevod V. A. Potapovoj
Perevod A. V. Parina
41. The Fly
41.* Motylek. Perevod V. L. Toporova
Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
42. The Angel
42. Angel. Perevod V. L. Toporova
43. The Tyger
43. Tigr. Perevod V. L. Toporova
Perevod K. D. Bal'monta
Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
44. My Pretty Rose-Tree
44. Moj rozovyj kust. Perevod V. L. Toporova
45. Ah! Sun-flower! weary of time
45. Ah! Podsolnuh! chto za zhrebij... Perevod V. L. Toporova .
46. The Lily
46. Lileya. Perevod A. V. Parina
Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
Perevod V. A. Potapovoj
47. The Garden of Love
47.* Sad lyubvi. Perevod V. L. Toporova
Perevod V. A. Potapovoj
48. The Little Vagabond
48. Malen'kij brodyazhka. Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
* Perevod V. L. Toporova
49. London
49. London. Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
* Perevod V. L. Toporova
50. The Human Abstract
50. CHelovecheskaya abstrakciya. Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
51. Infant Sorrow
51. Ditya-gore. Perevod V. L. Toporova
52. A Poison Tree
52. Drevo yada. Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
53. A Little Boy Lost
53. Zabludivshijsya mal'chik. Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
54. A Little Girl Lost
54. Zabludshaya devochka. Perevod V. L. Toporova
55. To Tirzah
55. K Tirze. Perevod V. L. Toporova
56. The Schoolboy
56. SHkol'nik. Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
57. The Voice of the Ancient Bard
57. Golos drevnego barda. Perevod V. B. Mikushevicha

From "The Rossetti Manuscript"
Iz "Manuskripta Rossetti"

(1789-1793)

58. Never seek to tell thy love
58. Slovom vyskazat' nel'zya... Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
* Perevod V. L. Toporova
59. I saw a Chapel all of gold
59.* Predstal mne Zlatoglavyj Hram
Perevod V. L. Toporova
Perevod V. A. Potapovoj
60. I asked a thief to steal me a peach
60. Vora prosil ya persik ukrast'... Perevod V. A. Potapovoj
61. I heard an Angel singing
61. YA slyshal angela pen'e... Perevod V. A. Potapovoj
62. A Cradle Song
62.* Kolybel'naya. Perevod V. L. Toporova
63. I fear'd the fury of my wind
63. Strashilsya ya: moj vihr' ub'et... Perevod V. A. Potapovoj
64. Infant Sorrow
64. Ditya-gore. Perevod V. L. Toporova
65. Thou hast a lap full of seed
65. Zerna u tebya v podole... Perevod V. A. Potapovoj
66. In a Mirtle Shade
66. Pod mirtovym drevom. Perevod V. A. Potapovoj
67. To Nobodaddy
67.* Otcu, ne porodivshemu syna. Perevod V. L. Toporova
Perevod V. A. Potapovoj
68. The Wild Flower's Song
68. Pesnya dikogo cvetka. Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
69. O lapwing! thou fliest around the heath
69. O chibis! Ty vidish' vnizu pustopol'e... Perevod V. A. Potapovoj
70. Soft Snow
70. Myagkij sneg. Perevod V. A. Potapovoj
71. Merlin's Prophecy
71. Prorochestvo Merlina. Perevod V. A. Potapovoj
72. Day
72. Den'. Perevod V. A. Potapovoj
73. Why should I care for the men of Thames
73. Temza i Ogajo. Perevod V. A. Potapovoj
74. Abstinence sows sand all over
74. Plamen' volos i rumyanuyu plot'... Perevod V. A. Potapovoj
75. If you trap the moment before it's ripe
75. Shvativ za vihor prezhde vremeni sluchaj... Perevod V. A. Potapovoj
76. Ne who bends to himself a Joy
76. Letuchaya radost'. Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
77. Riches
77. Bogatstvo. Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
78. An Answer to the Parson
78. Razgovor duhovnogo otca s prihozhaninom. Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
79. Soft deceit & idleness
79. Lenost' i obman blazhennyj... Perevod V. A. Potapovoj
80. Let the Brothels of Paris be opened
80. Dveri nastezh', parizhskie bordeli!.. Perevod V. L. Toporova

(1800-1803)

81. My Spectre around me night and day
81.* Spektr i emanaciya. Perevod V. L. Toporova
Perevod V. A. Potapovoj
82. When Klopstock England defied
82.* Klopshtok Angliyu hulil kak hotel... Perevod V. L. Toporova
83. Mock on, mock on, Voltaire, Rousseau
83. ZHivej, Vol'ter! Smelej, Russo!.. Perevod V. L. Toporova
84. When a man has married a wife
84. Poka ne zhenimsya... Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
85. On the Virginity of the Virgin Mary and Johanna Southcott
85. O devstvennosti devy Marii i Dzhoanny Sauskott. Perevod V. A.
Potapovoj
86. Morning
86. Utro. Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
87. Now Art has lost its mental charms
87.* Utratilo iskusstvo svoj... Perevod V. L. Toporova

(1808-1811)

88. To F[laxman]
88. Moemu hulitelyu. Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
89. Here lies John Trot, the friend of all mankind
89. Ni odnogo vraga vseobshchij drug, Dzhon Trot... Perevod V. A. Potapovoj
90. I was buried near this dyke
90. |pitafiya. Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
91. My title as a genius thus is prov'd
91. Teper' poprobujte skazat', chto ya ne genialen... Perevod V. A.
Potapovoj
92. Grown old in Love
92. Vsyu zhizn' lyubov'yu plamennoj sgoraya... Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
93. All pictures that's panted with sense and with thought
93. CHuvstva i mysli v kartine nashedshij... Perevod V. A. Potapovoj
94. Why was Cupid a boy
94. Kupidon. Perevod V. A. Potapovoj
95. I asked my dear friend Orator Prig
95. CHto oratoru nuzhno?.. Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
96. Having given great offence by writing in prose
96. Blejk v zashchitu svoego Kataloga. Perevod V. A. Potapovoj
97. Some people admire the work of a fool
97. Tvoren'e duraka po vkusu mnogim lyudyam... Perevod V. A. Potapovoj
98. Since all the riches of this world
98. O blagodarnosti. Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
99. I rose up at the dawn of day
99. YA vstal, kogda redela noch'... Perevod S. YA. Marshaka

The Pickering Manuscript
Manuskript Pikeringa

(1800-1803)

100. The Smile
100. Ulybka. Perevod A. V. Parina
* Perevod V. L. Toporova
101. The Golden Net
101. Zlataya set'. Perevod V. A. Potapovoj
102. The Mental Traveller
102. Stranstvie. Perevod V. L. Toporova
103. The Land of Dreams
103. YUdol' grez. Perevod V. L. Toporova
104. Mary
104. Meri. Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
105. The Crystal Cabinet
105.* Hrustal'naya shkatulka. Perevod V. L. Toporova
Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
106. The Grey Monk
106. Seryj monah. Perevod V. L. Toporova
107. Auguries of Innocence
107.* Izrecheniya nevinnosti. Perevod V. L. Toporova
108. Long John Brown and Little Mary Bell
108. Dlinnyj Dzhon Braun i malyutka Meri Bell. Perevod S. YA. Marshaka
109. William Bond
109. Vil'yam Bond. Perevod V. L. Toporova

The Book of Thel
Kniga Tel'. Perevod S. YA. Marshaka

The Marriage of Heaven and Hell
Brakosochetanie Raya i Ada. Perevod A. YA. Sergeeva

Visions of the Daughters of Albion
Videniya dshcherej Al'biona. Perevod A. YA. Sergeeva

The French Revolution
* Francuzskaya revolyuciya. Perevod V. L. Toporova

America
* Amerika. Perevod V. L. Toporova

Europe
* Evropa. Perevod V. L. Toporova

From "Milton
Iz poemy "Mil'ton". Perevod S. YA. Marshaka

Kommentarii
Daty zhizni i tvorchestva Blejka

Selected verse
Stihi

FROM "POETICAL SKETCHES"
IZ KNIGI "PO|TICHESKIE NABROSKI"

1. SONG

How sweet I roam'd from field to field
And tasted all the summer's pride,
Till I the Prince of Love beheld
Who in the sunny beams did glide!

He show'd me lilies for my hair,
And blushing roses for my brow;
He led me through his gardens fair
Where all his golden pleasures grow.

With sweet May dews my wings were wet,
And Phoebus fir'd my vocal rage;
He caught me in his silken net,
And shut me in his golden cage.

He loves to sit and hear me sing,
Then, laughing, sports and plays with me -
Then stretches out my golden wing,
And mocks my loss of liberty.

1. PESNYA

V polyah porhaya i kruzhas',
Kak byl ya schastliv v bleske dnya,
Poka lyubvi prekrasnyj knyaz'
Ne kinul vzora na menya.

Mne v kudri lilii on vplel,
Ukrasil rozami chelo,
V svoi sady menya povel,
Gde stol'ko tajnyh neg cvelo.

Vostorg moj Feb vosplamenil,
I, upoennyj, stal ya pet'...
A on mezh tem menya plenil,
Raskinuv shelkovuyu set'.

Moj knyaz' so mnoj igraet zlo.
Kogda poyu ya pered nim,
On raspravlyaet mne krylo
I rabstvom teshitsya moim.

Perevod S. YA. Marshaka

2. TO SPRING

O thou with dewy locks, who lookest down
Thro' the clear windows of the morning, turn
Thine angel eyes upon our western isle,
Which in full choir hails thy approach, O Spring!

The hills tell each other, and the list'ning
Valleys hear; all our longing eyes are turned
Up to thy bright pavilions: issue forth,
And let thy holy feet visit our clime.

Come o'er the eastern hills, and let our winds
Kiss thy perfumed garments; let us taste
Thy morn and evening breath; scatter thy pearls
Upon our love-sick land that mourns for thee.

O deck her forth with thy fair fingers; pour
Thy soft kisses on her bosom; and put
Thy golden crown upon her languish'd head,
Whose modest tresses were bound up for thee.

2. K VESNE

O svetlyj Genij s vlazhnymi kudryami,
Glyadyashchij iz promytyh okon utra!
Ty vzorom angel'skih ochej okin'
Nash ostrov zapadnyj: on zhdet Vesny!

Pereklikayutsya holmy i doly;
Glaza na tvoj blistayushchij shater
Ustremleny: v nash kraj stopoj svyatoj
SHagni cherez vostochnuyu gryadu!

Nam utrennim dyhan'em i vechernim
Upit'sya daj! Puskaj celuyut vetry
Tvoyu blagouhannuyu odezhdu.
Zemlya polna istomy. ZHemchugami

Ukras' i poceluyami osyp'
Ej grud', perstami chudnymi naden'
Zlatoj venec na golovu, ch'i kosy
Stydlivo dlya tebya raspleteny.

Perevod V. A. Potapovoj

3. TO SUMMER

O thou who passest thro' our valleys in
Thy strength, curb thy fierce steeds, allay the heat
That flames from their large nostrils! thou, O Summer,
Oft pitched'st here thy golden tent, and oft
Beneath our oaks hast slept, while we beheld
With joy thy ruddy limbs and flourishing hair.

Beneath our thickest shades we oft have heard
Thy voice, when noon upon his fervid car
Rode o'er the deep of heaven; beside our springs
Sit down, and in our mossy valleys, on
Some bank beside a river clear, throw thy
Silk draperies off, and rush into the stream:
Our valleys love the Summer in his pride.

Our bards are fam'd who strike the silver wire:
Our youth are bolder than the southern swains:
Our maidens fairer in the sprightly dance:
We lack not songs, nor instruments of joy,
Nor echoes sweet, nor waters clear as heaven,
Nor laurel wreaths against the sultry heat.

3. K LETU

S tvoim vtorzhen'em k nam v doliny, Leto,
Ty zharom pyshushchih konej sderzhi,
Umer' iz nozdrej letyashchij plamen'!
Kogda v zlatyh shatrah, sredi dubov,
Tebya klonilo v son, cvetushchim telom
I roskosh'yu kudrej my lyubovalis'.

My slushali tvoj golos v gushche lesa,
Kogda po nebu v znojnoj kolesnice
Katilsya polden'. U ruch'ya prisyad'
Il' u reki, v doline mshistoj, sbros'
Odezhdy myagkij shelk i prygni v vodu
Prozrachnuyu. Vo vsem velikolep'e,
Tebya doliny nashi lyubyat, Leto!

Iz serebra u nashih bardov struny.
YUzhan otvazhnej nashi hrabrecy.
Nikto ne plyashet luchshe nashih dev.
U nas est' pesni, sladostnoe eho,
I reki, svetlye kak nebesa,
I lavrolistvennyh venkov prohlada.

Perevod V. A. Potapovoj

4. TO AUTUMN

O Autumn, laden with fruit, and stained
With the blood of the grape, pass not, but sit
Beneath my shady roof; there thou may'st rest,
And tune thy jolly voice to my fresh pipe,
And all the daughters of the year shall dance!
Sing now the lusty song of fruits and flowers.

'The narrow bud opens her beauties to
The sun, and love runs in her thrilling veins;
Blossoms hang round the brows of Morning, and
Flourish down the bright cheek of modest Eve,
Till clust'ring Summer breaks forth into singing,
And feather'd clouds strew flowers round her head.

"The spirits of the air live on the smells
Of fruit; and Joy, with pinions light, roves round
The gardens, or sits singing in the trees.'
Thus sang the jolly Autumn as he sat;
Then rose, girded himself, and o'er the bleak
Hills fled from our sight; but left his golden load.

4. K OSENI

Zapyatnannaya krov'yu vinograda,
Otyagoshchennaya plodami Osen',
Moj krov ukromnyj ne minuj, nastroj
Svoj golos v lad moej svireli svezhej,
CHtob goda luchshim docheryam plyasat'!
Spoj pesnyu o cvetah, plodah i zlakah.

"Tugoj buton raskryl svetilu poldnya
Svoi krasy; po vsem prozhilkam s drozh'yu
Tekla lyubov'! Cvety venkov svisali
Nad lbom rassveta i zari vechernej
Stydlivymi shchekami. Razrazilos'
Pod peristymi oblakami Leto.

Vozdushnyh duhov kormit sladkij zapah
Plodov; snuet na legkih kryl'yah radost'
Po sadu, zalivayas' mezh vetvej".
Tak pela Osen' u menya v gostyah,
No molcha za ugryumye holmy
Ushla, zlatuyu noshu sbrosiv s plech.

Perevod V. A. Potapovoj

5. TO WINTER

'O Winter! bar thine adamantine doors:
The north is thine; there hast thou built thy dark
Deep-founded habitation. Shake not thy roofs,
Nor bend thy pillars with thine iron car.'

He hears me not, but o'er the yawning deep
Rides heavy; his storms are unchain'd, sheathed
In ribbed steel; I dare not lift mine eyes,
For he hath rear'd his sceptre o'er the world.

Lo! now the direful monster, whose skin clings
To his strong bones, strides o'er the groaning rocks:
He withers all in silence, and in his hand
Unclothes the earth, and freezes up frail life.

He takes his seat upon the cliffs, - the mariner
Cries in vain. Poor little wretch, that deal'st
With storms! - till heaven smiles, and the monster
Is driv'n yelling to his caves beneath mount Hecla.

5. K ZIME

Zima, zamkni almaznye vrata!
Na Severe uhodit v glub' zemli
Tvoj mrachnyj krov. Ne sotryasaj ego,
Ne gni podpor zheleznoj kolesnicej.

Ne slyshit! Nad ziyayushchej bezdnoj
Nesetsya tyazhelo, svoj groznyj skipter
Vozdev i stayu bur' spustiv s cepi.
Okovany oni rebristoj stal'yu.

No chu! Strashilishche shagaet - kozha
Da kosti, - a pod nim utesy stonut.
Vot-vot razdenet zemlyu, chtob morozom
Dyhan'e zhizni hrupkoj umertvit'.

Ono saditsya na skalu. Zloschastnyj,
So shtormom b'etsya morehod, poka
Ulybka nebo ozarit i ruhnet
CHudovishche v provaly Gekly s voem.

Perevod V. A. Potapovoj

6. MAD SONG

The wild winds weep,
And the night is a-cold;
Come hither, Sleep,
And my griefs unfold:
But lo! the morning peeps
Over the eastern steeps,
And the rustling beds of dawn
The earth do scorn.

Lo! to the vault
Of paved heaven,
With sorrow fraught
My notes are driven:
They strike the ear of night,
Make weep the eyes of day;
They make mad the roaring winds,
And with tempests play.

Like a fiend in a cloud,
With howling woe
After night I do crowd,
And with night will go;
I turn my back to the east
From whence comforts have increas'd;
For light doth seize my brain
With frantic pain.

6. BEZUMNAYA PESNYA

V klokah nebosklon,
Studenyj i lyutyj.
Kosnis' menya, Son,
Pechali rasputaj!
No shchuritsya zarya,
Vostok zhivotvorya.
SHCHebetanie utrennih ptah
Zanyalos' v nebesah.

I v polog ugryumyj,
V shater neboskata
Letyat moi dumy,
Pechal'yu chrevaty,
Smushchaya nochi sluh
I vzory solncu zastya,
I vselyayut bezumnuyu yarost'
V bushevan'e nenast'ya.

Kak morok, plyvu
I v tuche rydayu.
YA noch'yu zhivu -
Nautro istayu.
K vostoku spinoj povernus',
Primankoj ego ne prel'shchus',
Ibo svet obzhigaet moj mozg,
Kak rasplavlennyj vosk.

Perevod A. V. Parina

7. TO THE MUSES

Whether on Ida's shady brow,
Or in the chambers of the East,
The chambers of the sun, that now
From ancient melody have ceas'd;

Whether in Heaven ye wander fair,
Or the green corners of the earth,
Or the blue regions of the air
Where the melodious winds have birth;

Whether on crystal rocks ye rove,
Beneath the bosom of the sea
Wand'ring in many a coral grove,
Fair Nine, forsaking Poetry!

How have you left the ancient love
That bards of old enjoy'd in you!
The languid strings do scarcely move!
The sound is forc'd, the notes are few!

7. K MUZAM

Na sklonah Idy zatenennyh,
V chertogah, chto Vostok vozdvig, -
V pokoyah, solncem napoennyh,
Gde pesnopenij smolk yazyk,

Vy obretaetes', bogini,
Il' v nebesah, sredi mirov?
Il' v teh sloyah, gde vozduh sinij
Rozhdaet muzyku vetrov?

Ili pod lonom vod zerkal'nyh
Vy, devyat' bogoravnyh dev,
Sred' roshch koralla, skal hrustal'nyh
Soshlis', poeziyu prezrev?

Kak vy mogli zabyt' o chudnoj
Lyubvi k pevcam ushedshih let?
Oslabli struny, zvuki skudny,
Not malo, iskrennosti net!

Perevod V. A. Potapovoj

8. BLIND MAN'S BUFF

When silver snow decks Susan's clothes,
And jewel hangs at th' shepherd's nose,
The blushing bank is all my care,
With hearth so red, and walls so fair;
'Heap the sea-coal, come, heap it higher,
The oaken log lay on the fire.'

The well-wash'd stools, a circling row,
With lad and lass, how fair the show!

The merry can of nut-brown ale,
The laughing jest, the love-sick tale,
Till, tir'd of chat, the game begins.

The lasses prick the lads with pins;
Roger from Dolly twitch'd the stool,
She, falling, kiss'd the ground, poor fool!

She blush'd so red, with side-long glance
At hob-nail Dick, who griev'd the chance.

But now for Blind man's Buff they call;
Of each encumbrance clear the hall -
Jenny her silken 'kerchief folds,
And blear-eyed Will the black lot holds.

Now laughing stops, with 'Silence! hush!'
And Peggy Pout gives Sam a push.

The Blind man's arms, extended wide,
Sam slips between: - 'O woe betide
Thee, clumsy Will!' - But titt'ring Kate
Is penn'd up in the corner straight!

And now Will's eyes beheld the play;
He thought his face was t'other way.

'Now, Kitty, now! what chance hast thou,
Roger so near thee! - Trips, I vow!'

She catches him - then Roger ties
His own head up - but not his eyes;
For thro' the slender cloth he sees,
And runs at Sam, who slips with ease
His clumsy hold; and, dodging round,
Sukey is tumbled on the ground! -
'See what it is to play unfair!

Where cheating is, there's mischief there.'
But Roger still pursues the chase,-
'He sees! he sees!' cries, softly, Grace;
'O Roger, thou, unskill'd in art,
Must, surer bound, go thro' thy part!

Now Kitty, pert, repeats the rimes,
And Roger turns him round three times,
Then pauses ere he starts-but Dick
Was mischief bent upon a trick;
Down on his hands and knees he lay
Directly in the Blind man's way,
Then cries out 'Hem!' Hodge heard, and ran
With hood-wink'd chance - sure of his man;
But down he came. - Alas, how frail
Our best of hopes, how soon they fail!

With crimson drops he stains the ground;
Confusion startles all around.

Poor piteous Dick supports his head,
And fain would cure the hurt he made;
But Kitty hasted with a key,
And down his back they straight convey
The cold relief; the blood is stay'd
And Hodge again holds up his head.
Such are the fortunes of the game,
And those who play should stop the same
By wholesome laws; such as all those
Who on the blinded man impose
Stand in his stead; as, long a-gone,
When men were first a nation grown,
Lawless they liv'd, till wantonness
And liberty began t' increase,
And one man lay in another's way:
Then laws were made to keep fair play.

8. IGRA V ZHMURKI

Tol'ko sneg razodenet Susannu v meha
I povisnet almaz na nosu pastuha,
Dorog_a_ mne skam'ya pred bol'shim ochagom
Da ognem ozarennye steny krugom.

-----

Goroyu ugol' gromozdite,
A poperek brevno kladite.
I taburetki stav'te v krug
Dlya nashih parnej i podrug.

V bochonke el' temnej oreha,
Lyubovnyj shepot. Vzryvy smeha,
Kogda zh naskuchit boltovnya,
Zateem igry u ognya.

Devchonki shustrye rebyat
Kol'nut' bulavkoj norovyat.
No ne v dolgu u nih rebyata -
Grozit prokaznicam rasplata.

Vot Rodzher brov'yu podmignul
I utashchil u Dolli stul.
I vot, ne zhdavshaya podvoha,
Pocelovala pol dureha!
Potom opravila naryad,
Na Dzhona brosiv tomnyj vzglyad.

Dzhon posochuvstvoval devchurke.
Mezh tem igrat' reshili v zhmurki
I stali bystro ubirat'
Vse, chto meshalo im igrat'.

Platok slozhila Meg dva raza
I zavyazala oba glaza
Kosomu Villu dlya togo,
CHtob on ne videl nichego.

CHut' ne shvatil on Meg za plat'e,
A Meg, smeyas', k nemu v ob®yat'ya
Tolknula Rodzhera, no Vill
Iz ruk dobychu upustil.

Devchonki draznyat rotozeya:
"Lovi menya! Lovi skoree!"
I vot, izmayavshis' vkonec,
Bednyazhku Ket nastig slepec.
On po pyatam bezhal vdogonku
I v ugolok zagnal devchonku.

- Popalas', Ketti? Tvoj chered
Lovit' togo, kto popadet!
Smotri, vot Rodzher, Rodzher blizko!.. -
I Ketti bystro, slovno kiska,
V pogonyu kinulas' za nim.
(Emu podstavil nozhku Dzhim.)

Nadev platok, on protiv pravil
Glaza svobodnymi ostavil.
I, glyadya skvoz' prozrachnyj shelk,
Napal na Dzhima on, kak volk,
No Dzhim emu ne dalsya v ruki
I s nog svalil malyutku S'yuki.
Tak ne dovodit do dobra
Lyudej beschestnaya igra!..

No tut razdalsya druzhnyj krik:
"On vidit, vidit!" - kriknul Dik.
"Aj da slepec!" - krichat rebyata.
Ne sporit Rodzher vinovatyj.

I vot, kak trebuet ustav,
Na Rodzhera nalozhen shtraf:
Surovyj sud zastavil pluta
Perevernut'sya trizhdy kruto.
I, otpustiv emu grehi,
Vertushka Ket prochla stihi,
CHtoby igru nachat' snachala.
"Lovi!" - vertushka zakrichala.

Slepec pomchalsya napryamik,
No on ne znal, chto hitryj Dik
Kovarno zhdet ego v zasade
Na chetveren'kah - shutki radi.

On tak i grohnulsya... Uvy!
Vse nashi plany takovy.
Ne znaet tot, kto schast'e lovit,
Kakoj syurpriz sud'ba gotovit...

Edva v sebya slepec prishel
I vidit: krov'yu zalit pol.
Lico oshchupal on rukoyu -
Krov' iz nozdrej bezhit rekoyu.
Emu raskayavshijsya Dik
Rasstegivaet vorotnik,
A Sem neset vody holodnoj.
No vse staran'ya ih besplodny.
Krov' tak i l'et, kak dozhd' iz tuch,
Poka ne prilozhili klyuch
K zatylku ranenogo. (S detstva
Nam vsem znakomo eto sredstvo!)

Vot chto sluchaetsya poroj,
Kogda plutuyut za igroj.
Sozdat' dlya plutovstva prepony
Dolzhny razumnye zakony.
Nu, naprimer, takoj zakon
Byt' dolzhen strogo soblyuden:
Pust' lyudi, chto drugih obmanut,
Na mesto poterpevshih stanut.

Davnym-davno - v te vremena,
Kogda lyudskie plemena
Na vole zhili, -nashim dedam
Byl ni odin zakon nevedom.
Tak prodolzhalos' do teh por,
Pokuda ne voznik razdor,
I lozh', i prochie poroki, -
Stal lyudyam tesen mir shirokij.
Togda skazat' prishla pora:
- Pust' budet chestnaya igra!

Perevod S. YA. Marshaka

9. GWIN, KING OF NORWAY

Come, kings, and listen to my song:
When Gwin, the son of Nore,
Over the nations of the North
His cruel sceptre bore;

The nobles of the land did feed
Upon the hungry poor;
They tear the poor man's lamb, and drive
The needy from their door.

'The land is desolate; our wives
And children cry for bread;
Arise, and pull the tyrant down!
Let Gwin be humbled!'

Gordred the giant rous'd himself
From sleeping in his cave;
He shook the hills, and in the clouds
The troubl'd banners wave.

Beneath them roll'd, like tempests black,
The num'rous sons of blood;
Like lions' whelps, roaring abroad,
Seeking their nightly food.

Down Bleron's hills they dreadful rush,
Their cry ascends the clouds;
The trampling horse and clanging arms
Like rushing mighty floods!

Their wives and children, weeping loud,
Follow in wild array,
Howling like ghosts, furious as wolves
In the bleak wintry day.

'Pull down the tyrant to the dust,
Let Gwin be humbled,'
They cry, 'and let ten thousand lives
Pay for the tyrant's head.'

From tow'r to tow'r the watchmen cry,
'O Gwin, the son of Nore,
Arouse thyself! the nations, black
Like clouds, come rolling o'er!'

Gwin rear'd his shield, his palace shakes,
His chiefs come rushing round;
Each, like an awful thunder cloud,
With voice of solemn sound:

Like reared stones around a grave
They stand around the King!
Then suddenly each seiz'd his spear,
And clashing steel does ring.

The husbandman does leave his plough
To wade thro' fields of gore;
The merchant binds his brows in steel,
And leaves the trading shore;

The shepherd leaves his mellow pipe,
And sounds the trumpet shrill;
The workman throws his hammer down
To heave the bloody bill.

Like the tall ghost of Barraton
Who sports in stormy sky,
Gwin leads his host, as black as night
When pestilence does fly,

With horses and with chariots -
And all his spearmen bold
March to the sound of mournful song,
Like clouds around him roll'd.

Gwin lifts his hand-the nations halt,
'Prepare for war!' he cries -
Gordred appears! - his frowning brow
Troubles our northern skies.

The armies stand, like balances
Held in th' Almighty's hand; -
'Gwin, thou hast fill'd thy measure up:
Thou'rt swept from out the land.'

And now the raging armies rush'd
Like warring mighty seas;
The heav'ns are shook with roaring war,
The dust ascends the skies!

Earth smokes with blood, and groans and shakes
To drink her children's gore,
A sea of blood; nor can the eye
See to the trembling shore!

And on the verge of this wild sea
Famine and death doth cry;
The cries of women and of babes
Over the field doth fly.

The King is seen raging afar,
With all his men of might;
Like blazing comets scattering death
Thro' the red fev'rous night.

Beneath his arm like sheep they die,
And groan upon the plain;
The battle faints, and bloody men
Fight upon hills of slain.

Now death is sick, and riven men
Labour and toil for life;
Steed rolls on steed, and shield on shield,
Sunk in this sea of strife!

The god of war is drunk with blood;
The earth doth faint and fail;
The stench of blood makes sick the heav'ns;
Ghosts glut the throat of hell!

O what have kings to answer for
Before that awful throne;
When thousand deaths for vengeance cry,
And ghosts accusing groan!

Like blazing comets in the sky
That shake the stars of light,
Which drop like fruit unto the earth
Thro' the fierce burning night;

Like these did Gwin and Gordred meet,
And the first blow decides;
Down from the brow unto the breast
Gordred his head divides!

Gwin fell: the sons of Norway fled,
All that remain'd alive;
The rest did fill the vale of death,
For them the eagles strive.

The river Dorman roll'd their blood
Into the northern sea;
Who mourn'd his sons, and overwhelm'd
The pleasant south country.

9. KOROLX GVIN

Ballada

Vnemlite pesne, koroli!
Kogda norvezhec Gvin
Narodov severnoj zemli
Byl groznyj vlastelin,

V ego vladen'yah nishchetu
Obkradyvala znat'.
Ovcu poslednyuyu - i tu
Staralis' otobrat'.

"Ne kormit nishchaya zemlya
Bol'nyh detej i zhen.
Doloj tirana-korolya,
Puskaj pokinet tron!"

Prosnulsya Gordred mezhdu skal,
Tirana lyutyj vrag,
I nad zemlej zatrepetal
Ego myatezhnyj styag.

Za nim idut syny vojny
Lavinoyu sploshnoj,
Kak l'vy, sil'ny i golodny,
Na promysel nochnoj.

CHerez holmy ih put' lezhit,
Ih klich nesetsya vvys'.
Oruzh'ya lyazg i drob' kopyt
V edinyj gul slilis'.

Idet tolpa detej i zhen
Iz sel i dereven',
I yarostno zvuchit ih ston
V zheleznyj zimnij den'.

Zvuchit ih ston kak volchij voj.
V otvet gudit zemlya.
Narod idet za golovoj
Tirana-korolya.

Ot bashni k bashne mchitsya vest'
Po vsej bol'shoj strane:
"Tvoih protivnikov ne schest'.
Gotov'sya, Gvin, k vojne!"

Norvezhec shchit pod®emlet svoj
I vityazej zovet,
Podobnyh tuche grozovoj,
V kotoroj grom zhivet.

Kak plity, chto stojmya stoyat
Na kladbishche nemom,
Stoit bojcov bezmolvnyj ryad
Pred groznym korolem.

Oni stoyat pred korolem,
Nedvizhny, kak granit,
No vot odin vzmahnul kop'em,
I stal' o stal' zvenit.

Ostavil zemledelec plug,
Rabochij - molotok,
Smenil svirel' svoyu pastuh
Na boevoj rozhok.

Korol' vojska svoi vedet,
Kak groznyj prizrak t'my,
Kak noch', kotoraya neset
Dyhanie chumy.

I kolesnicy i vojska
Idut za korolem,
Kak grozovye oblaka,
Skryvayushchie grom.

- Ostanovites'! - molvil Gvin
I ukazal vpered. -
Smotrite, Gordred-ispolin
Navstrechu nam idet!..

Stoyat dva vojska, kak vesy,
Poslushnye sud'be.
Korol', poslednie chasy
Otpushcheny tebe.

Nastalo vremya - i soshlis'
Zaklyatyh dva vraga,
I konnica vzmetaet vvys'
Sypuchie snega.

Vsya sodrogaetsya zemlya
Ot grohota shagov.
Lyudskaya krov' poit polya -
I net ej beregov.

Letayut golod i nuzhda
Nad grudoj mertvyh tel.
Kak mnogo gorya i truda
Dlya teh, kto ucelel!

Korol' polki brosaet v boj.
Sverkayut ih mechi
Luchom komety ognevoj,
Bluzhdayushchej v nochi.

ZHivye padayut vo prah,
Kak pod serpom zhnecov.
Drugie b'yutsya na kostyah
Besschetnyh mertvecov.

Vot kon' pod vsadnikom ubit.
I padayut, zvenya,
Kon' na konya, i shchit na shchit,
I na bronyu bronya.

Ustal krovavyj bog vojny.
On sam ot krovi p'yan.
Smerdyashchij par s polej strany
Voshodit, kak tuman.

O, chto otvetyat koroli,
Predstav na Strashnyj sud,
Za dushi teh, chto iz zemli
O mesti vopiyut!

Ne dve hvostatye zvezdy
Stolknulis' mezh soboj,
Rassypav zvezdy, kak plody
Iz chashi goluboj.

To Gordred, gornyj ispolin,
SHagaya po telam,
Nastig vraga - i ruhnul Gvin,
Razrublen popolam.

Ischezlo voinstvo ego.
Kto mog, zhivym ushel.
A kto ostalsya, na togo
Kosmatyj sel orel.

A reki krov' i sneg s polej
Umchali v okean,
CHtoby oplakal synovej
Burlivyj velikan.

Perevod S. YA. Marshaka

10. FROM "KING EDWARD THE THIRD"

O sons of Trojan Brutus, cloth'd in war,
Whose voices are the thunder of the field,
Rolling dark clouds o'er France, muffling the sun
In sickly darkness like a dim eclipse,
Threatening as the red brow of storms, as fire
Burning up nations in your wrath and fury!

Your ancestors came from the fires of Troy,
(Like lions rous'd by light'ning from their dens,
Whose eyes do glare against the stormy fires),
Heated with war, fill'd with the blood of Greeks,
With helmets hewn, and shields covered with gore,
In navies black, broken with wind and'tide:

They landed in firm array upon the rocks
Of Albion; they kiss'd the rocky shore;
'Be thou our mother and our nurse,' they said;
'Our children's mother, and thou shalt be our grave,
The sepulchre of ancient Troy, from whence
Shall rise cities, and thrones, and arms, and awful pow'rs.'

Our fathers swarm from the ships. Giant voices
Are heard from the hills, the enormous sons
Of Ocean run from rocks and caves, wild men,
Naked and roaring like lions, hurling rocks,
And wielding knotty clubs, like oaks entangled
Thick as a forest, ready for the axe.

Our fathers move in firm array to battle;
The savage monsters rush like roaring fire,
Like as a forest roars with crackling flames,
When the red lightning, borne by furious storms,
Lights on some woody shore; the parched heavens
Rain fire into the molten raging sea.

The smoking trees are strewn upon the shore,
Spoil'd of their verdure. O how oft have they
Defy'd the storm that howled o'er their heads!
Our fathers, sweating, lean on their spears, and view
The mighty dead: giant bodies streaming blood.
Dread visages frowning in silent death.

Then Brutus spoke, inspir'd; our fathers sit
Attentive on the melancholy shore:
Hear ye the voice of Brutus-'The flowing waves
Of time come rolling o'er my breast,' he said;
'And my heart labours with futurity:
Our sons shall rule the empire of the sea.

'Their mighty wings shall stretch from east to west.
Their nest is in the sea, but they shall roam
Like eagles for the prey; nor shall the young
Crave or be heard; for plenty shall bring forth,
Cities shall sing, and vales in rich array
Shall laugh, whose fruitful laps bend down with fulness.

'Our sons shall rise from thrones in joy,
Each one buckling on his armour; Morning
Shall be prevented by their swords gleaming,
And Evening hear their song of victory:
Their towers shall be built upon the rocks,
Their daughters shall sing, surrounded with shining spears.

'Liberty shall stand upon the cliffs of Albion,
Casting her blue eyes over the green ocean;
Or, tow'ring, stand upon the roaring waves,
Stretching her mighty spear o'er distant lands;
While, with her eagle wings, she covereth
Fair Albion's shore, and all her families.'

10. PESNYA MENESTRELYA

O synov'ya troyanskih beglecov,
Ot vashih golosov gromopodobnyh
Na gall'skom nebe oblaka sgustilis'
I v sumrake uzhasnogo zatmen'ya
YAvilsya alyj disk, predvestnik bur',
CHrevatyh pogrebeniem narodov.

Iz Iliona vyshli vashi predki
(Oni, kak l'vy peshcher, na svet rychali,
Metali vzory molniyam navstrechu,
I grecheskaya krov' igrala v zhilah)
V tyazhelyh shlemah, v boevyh dospehah,
Na utlyh korablyah, razbityh vetrom.

Oni brosali yakorya u skal,
I celovali bereg Al'biona,
I prichitali: "Mater'yu nam bud',
Vskormi, vspoi nas i primi ostanki,
I stan' grobnicej sokrushennoj Troi,
I daj v nasledstvo goroda i trony".
Oni pustilis' vplav' ot korablej.
Togda so storony donessya shum:
CHudovishchnye deti okeana
Neslis' navstrechu ot peshcher i skal,
Reveli, slovno l'vy, - no vdrug zastyli,
Kak les gustoj, gotovyj k toporu.
V dospehah mednyh v bitvu shli otcy.
CHudovishcha rvanulis' naprolom,
Kak plamya, provozhaemoe vetrom,
Kak molnii, rozhdennye razdorom,
Kak nispaden'e raskalennyh zvezd
Na ledyanuyu penu okeana.

I ruhnuli derev'ya s ploskogor'ya,
I kapli krovi drognuli na list'yah.
O, skol'ko bur' im otrazit' prishlos'!
I vashi predki hmuro sozercali
Velich'e smerti, muki velikanov,
Ispug v glazah, smertel'nyj vzlet brovej.

I vyshel Brut. Otcy, emu vnimaya,
Na bregah melanholii sideli.
I molvil Brut: "Neprochnaya volna,
Volna vremen igraet nado mnoj,
No s budushchim sotrudnichaet serdce:
Moim synam pokorno budet more.

Oni protyanut moshchnye kryla
S vostoka na zakat i budut zhit',
Ne zhaluyas' i zhalobam ne vnemlya.
Oni potomkam schast'e prinesut:
Zdes' vstanut goroda, i vetvi yablon'
Nadlomyatsya pod tyazhest'yu plodov.

I yunoshi podnimutsya na tronah,
I kazhdyj obvenchaetsya s lyubimoj.
Oni prosnutsya pod bryacan'e kopij,
Pobednyj marsh im budet kolybel'noj,
Oni postroyat zamki na vershinah
I docherej oruzh'em ogradyat.

I na sedye gory Al'biona
Pridet goluboglazaya svoboda,
Vozvyshennaya, vstanet nad volnami,
I moshchnoe kop'e napravit vdal',
I kryl'yami ogromnymi nakroet
I poddannyh svoih, i etu zemlyu".

Perevod A. SHarapovoj

FROM "AN ISLAND IN THE MOON"

x x x

11. To be or not to be
Of great capacity,
Like Sir Isaac Newton,
Or Locke, or Doctor South,
Or Sherlock upon Death -
I'd rather be Sutton!

For he did build a house
For aged men and youth,
With walls of brick and stone;
He furnish'd it within
With whatever he could win,
And all his own.

He drew out of the Stocks
His money in a box,
And sent his servant
To Green the Bricklayer,
And to the Carpenter;
He was so fervent.

The chimneys were threescore,
The windows many more;
And, for convenience,
He sinks and gutters made,
And all the way he pav'd
To hinder pestilence.

Was not this a good man -
Whose life was but a span,
Whose name was Sutton -
As Locke, or Doctor South,
Or Sherlock upon Death,
Or Sir Isaac Newton?

STIHI IZ "OSTROVA NA LUNE"

x x x

11. Byt' il' ne byt', vot v chem
Vopros, takim sychom,
Kak ser Jsaak N'yuton?
Kak doktor Sout? Kak Lokk?
Kak vral' i demagog?
- No mne milee Satton!

Postroil Satton dom
Bolezn'yu i trudom
Izmuchennym sozdan'yam,
Poetomu vozdam
Ego blagim trudam,
Ego svyatym staran'yam.

Plyuya na pustomel',
On vyvernul koshel',
Reshiv ne poskupit'sya,
CHtob druzhnaya artel'
V zharishchu i v metel'
Znaj stroila bol'nicu.

Tam tridcat' shest' palat,
A okon tam - trikrat;
No vse eshche zvenelo
V ego kazne - i vot
Otvod dlya nechistot
On vozdvigaet smelo!

CHto zh, razve on ne mil?
I razve ne zatmil
Vas, doktor Sout, vas, Lokk,
Vas, vral' i demagog, -
Blagotvoritel' Satton?

Perevod V. L. Toporova

x x x

12. Leave, O leave me to my sorrows;
Here I'll sit and fade away,
Till I'm nothing but a spirit,
And I lose this form of clay.

Then if chance along this forest
Any walk in pathless way,
Thro' the gloom he'll see my shadow
Hear my voice upon the breeze.

x x x

12. Predostav' menya pechali!
YA, istayav, ne umru.
Stanu duhom ya - i tol'ko! -
Hot' mne plot' i po nutru.

Bez dorog bluzhdaya, kto-to
Zdes', v lesah, povityh t'moj,
Ten' moyu primetit noch'yu
I uslyshit golos moj.

Perevod V. A. Potapovoj

SONGS OF INNOCENCE AND OF EXPERIENCE
Shewing the Two Contrary States of the Human Soul

SONGS OF INNOCENCE

13. INTRODUCTION

Piping down the valleys wild,
Piping songs of pleasant glee,
On a cloud I saw a child,
And he laughing said to me:

'Pipe a song about a Lamb!'
So I piped with merry cheer.
'Piper, pipe that song again;'
So I piped: he wept to hear.

'Drop thy pipe, thy happy pipe;
Sing thy songs of happy cheer:'
So I sang the same again,
While he wept with joy to hear.

'Piper, sit thee down and write
In a book, that all may read.'
So he vanish'd from my sight,
And I pluck'd a hollow reed,

And I made a rural pen,
And I stain'd the water clear,
And I wrote my happy songs
Every child may joy to hear.

PESNI NEVEDENIYA I POZNANIYA,
pokazyvayushchie dva protivopolozhnyh sostoyaniya
chelovecheskoj dushi

PESNI NEVEDENIYA

13. VSTUPLENIE

Dul ya v zvonkuyu svirel'.
Vdrug na tuchke v vyshine
YA uvidel kolybel',
I ditya skazalo mne:

- Milyj putnik, ne speshi.
Mozhesh' pesnyu mne sygrat'? -
YA sygral ot vsej dushi,
A potom sygral opyat'.

- Kin' schastlivyj svoj trostnik.
Tu zhe pesnyu sam propoj! -
Molvil mal'chik i ponik
Belokuroj golovoj.

- Zapishi dlya vseh, pevec,
To, chto pel ty dlya menya! -
Kriknul mal'chik nakonec
I rastayal v bleske dnya.

YA pero iz trostnika
V to zhe utro smasteril,
Vzyal vody iz rodnika
I zemleyu zamutil.

I, raskryv svoyu tetrad',
Sel pisat' ya dlya togo,
CHtoby detyam peredat'
Radost' serdca moego!

Perevod S. YA. Marshaka

14. THE SHEPHERD

How sweet is the Shepherd's sweet lot!
From the morn to the evening he strays;
He shall follow his sheep all the day,
And his tongue shall be filled with praise.

For he hears the lamb's innocent call,
And he hears the ewe's tender reply;
He is watchful while they are in peace,
For they know when their Shepherd is nigh.

14. PASTUH

Kak zaviden udel tvoj, pastuh.
Ty vstaesh', kogda solnce vstaet,
Gonish' krotkoe stado na lug,
I svirel' tvoya slavu poet.

Zov yagnyat, materej ih otvet
Letnim utrom laskayut tvoj sluh.
Stado znaet: opasnosti net,
Ibo s nim ego chutkij pastuh.

Perevod S. YA. Marshaka

15. THE ECHOING GREEN

The Sun does arise,
And make happy the skies;
The merry bells ring
To welcome the Spring;
The skylark and thrush,
The birds of the bush,
Sing louder around
To the bells' cheerful sound,
While our sports shall be seen
On the Echoing Green.

Old John, with white hair,
Does laugh away care,
Sitting under the oak,
Among the old folk.
They laugh at our play,
And soon they all say:
'Such, such were the joys
When we all, girls and boys,
In our youth time were seen
On the Echoing Green.'

Till the little ones, weary,
No more can be merry;
The sun does descend,
And our sports have an end.
Round the laps of their mothers
Many sisters and brothers,
Like birds in their nest,
Are ready for rest,
And sport no more seen
On the darkening Green.

15. ZELENOE AU

CHu! solnce vstaet,
I chist nebosvod.
CHu! kolokola -
Vesna k nam prishla.
CHu! strizh i snegir',
Vesennij psaltyr'.
CHu! pesni i zvon
Drug druzhke vdogon.
Razdvinem listvu
S zelenym au!

Vot gladkij penek,
Sidit starichok.
Vot ryadom drugoj.
Vesennij pokoj.
Vot, glyadya na nas,
On nachal rasskaz:
"Vot tak-to i my
Plyasali do t'my.
Kidalis' v listvu
S zelenym au".

No mal'chik ustal,
Ot starshih otstal.
A iz-za vetvej
Svet solnca slabej.
|j, brat i sestra,
Domoj vam pora!

|j, kroshka-ptenec,
Usni nakonec!
Pokinem listvu
S zelenym au.

Perevod V. L. Toporova

16. THE LAMB

Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?
Gave thee life, and bid thee feed,
By the stream and o'er the mead;
Gave thee clothing of delight,
Softest clothing, woolly, bright,
Gave thee such a tender voice,
Making all the vales rejoice?
Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?

Little Lamb, I'll tell thee,
Little Lamb, I'll tell thee:
He is called by thy name,
For He calls Himself a Lamb.
He is meek, and He is mild;
He became a little child.
I a child, and thou a lamb,
We are called by His name.
Little Lamb, God bless thee!
Little Lamb, God bless thee!

16. YAGNENOK

Milyj! ch'ej rukoj
Sdelan ty - takoj?
Kto na svet tebya poslal,
Kto travu tebe postlal,
Kto privel tebya k ruch'yu,
SHerstku vydumal tvoyu,
Bleyat' kto tebe velel
Tak, chtob vsyak poveselel?
Milyj! ch'ej rukoj
Sdelan ty - takoj?

Slushaj i vnimaj!
Slushaj i vnimaj!
Tvoj sozdatel' - tezka tvoj,
Ibo Agnec on Svyatoj;
Krotok on i nezhen on,
On Dityatej narechen;
Ty yagnenok, ya ditya,
On takov, kak ty i ya.
Tvoj Tvorec - Gospod'!
Tvoj Tvorec - Gospod'!

Perevod V. L. Toporova

17. THE LITTLE BLACK BOY

My mother bore me in the southern wild,
And I am black, but O! my soul is white;
White as an angel is the English child,
But I am black, as if bereav'd of light.

My mother taught me underneath a tree,
And, sitting down before the heat of day,
She took me on her lap and kissed me,
And, pointing to the east, began to say:

'Look on the rising sun,-there God does live,
And gives His light, and gives His heat away;
And flowers and trees and beasts and men receive
Comfort in morning, joy in the noonday.

'And we are put on earth a little space,
That we may learn to bear the beams of love;
And these black bodies and the sunburnt face
Is but a cloud, and like a shady grove.

'For when our souls have learn'd the heat to bear,
The cloud will vanish; we shall hear His voice,
Saying: "Come out from the grove, My love and care,
And round My golden tent like lambs rejoice."'

Thus did my mother say, and kissed me;
And thus I say to little English boy.
When I from black and he from white cloud free,
And round the tent of God like lambs we joy,

I'll shade him from the heat, till he can bear
To lean in joy upon our Father's knee;
And then I'll stand and stroke his silver hair,
And be like him, and he will then love me.

17. NEGRITENOK

Tam, gde rozhden ya, - solnce i pesok,
I cheren ya, odna dusha bela.
Anglijskij mal'chik - belyj angelok,
A negrityanskij - chernaya smola.

Mat' pryatala menya v teni derev
Ot znoya, nastupayushchego dnem,
I, k nebu ruku chernuyu vozdev,
S lyubov'yu govorila mne o nem:

- Na nebe solnce, a na solnce Bog,
On darit svet, on darit svet i ten',
CHtob kazhdyj chelovek, zverek, listok
Hvalil rassvet i slavil yasnyj den'.

Luchi lyubvi nebesnoj goryachi,
I zhar lyubvi my vyterpet' dolzhny;
Sgoreli b my, Gospod' ne oblachi
Nas v chernye sploshnye peleny.

Dusha ne znaet etoj chernoty
I belosnezhnoj vyjdet iz pelen,
Kogda razdastsya Golos s vysoty
I prizovet yagnyat na nebosklon.

Tak mat' mne govorila v toj strane,
Tak, belyj mal'chik, ya skazhu tebe:
- Ty v beloj, sam ya - v chernoj pelene,
No nas, yagnyat, zovet Gospod' k sebe;

YA pomogu tebe snesti zharu
Na solnechnoj doroge v nebesa,
I vyjdem, brat'ya, k bozh'emu shatru,
I ya tvoi poglazhu volosa.

Perevod V. L. Toporova

18. THE BLOSSOM

Merry, merry sparrow!
Under leaves so green,
A happy blossom
Sees you, swift as arrow,
Seek your cradle narrow
Near my bosom.

Pretty, pretty robin!
Under leaves so green,
A happy blossom
Hears you sobbing, sobbing,
Pretty, pretty robin,
Near my bosom.

18. CVETOK

Strizh! Cvety prozreli.
Vidit nas cvetok.
Tak leti zhe
Ty, strela bez celi,
K tesnoj kolybeli,
K serdcu blizhe.

Milaya kasatka!
Slyshit nas cvetok.
Tak leti zhe
Plakat' sladko-sladko,
Milaya kasatka,
K serdcu blizhe.

Perevod V. B. Mikushevicha

19. THE CHIMNEY SWEEPER

When my mother died I was very young,
And my father sold me while yet my tongue
Could scarcely cry "weep! 'weep! 'weep!'
So your chimneys I sweep, and in soot I sleep.

There's little Tom Dacre, who cried when his head,
That curl'd like a lamb's back, was shav'd: so I said
'Hush, Tom! never mind it, for when your head's bare
You know that the soot cannot spoil your white hair.'

And so he was quiet, and that very night,
As Tom was a-sleeping, he had such a sight!-
That thousands of sweepers, Dick, Joe, Ned, and Jack,
Were all of them lock'd up in coffitfs of black.

And by came an Angel who had a bright key,
And he open'd the coffins and set them all free;
Then down a green plain leaping, laughing, they run,
And wash in a river, and shine in the sun.

Then naked and white, all their bags left behind,
They rise upon clouds and sport in the wind;
And the Angel told Tom, if he'd be a good boy,
He'd have God for his father, and never want joy.

And so Tom awoke; and we rose in the dark,
And got with our bags and our brushes to work.
Tho' the morning was cold, Tom was happy and warm;
So if all do their duty they need not fear harm.

19. MALENXKIJ TRUBOCHIST

Mat' ostavila rano menya sirotoj,
A otec, udruchennyj svoej nishchetoj,
Kroshku-syna, kotoryj edva lepetal,
K trubochistam chumazym v uchen'e poslal.

Ne vylazhu iz sazhi - uzh tak povelos'.
Toma nagolo brili. Oral on. "Da bros', -
YA skazal, - ty kudryavej yagnenka, a tot
Nikogda ne prolez by, kak my, v dymohod".

Perestal on, bednyaga, krichat', da potom
Son dikovinno-strannyj uvidel nash Tom:
Budto tyshchi chumazyh - Dik, Dzho, Ned i Dzhek -
V chernyj grob zakolocheny kem-to navek.

No prihodit k nim angel s volshebnym klyuchom,
I vyhodyat na volyu Dik, Dzho, Ned i Tom,
Nu a tam uzh - i radost', i pesni, i smeh,
I vesennee solnce, i rechka dlya vseh.

Iskupalis', otmyli ot sazhi boka
I vbezhali stremglav nagishom v oblaka.
Angel Tomu skazal: "Nuzhno byt' molodcom,
I poslushnomu synu Bog budet otcom".

Tut - opyat' podnimat'sya i kopot' skresti,
I tyazheluyu sazhu v vederkah nesti.
Tom - userdnej drugih, hot' nakazchik umolk.
Plakat' nechego, kol' vypolnyaesh' svoj dolg.

Perevod V. L. Toporova

20. THE LITTLE BOY LOST

'Father! father! where are you going?
O do not walk so fast.
Speak, father, speak to your little boy,
Or else I shall be lost.'

The night was dark, no father was there;
The child was wet with dew;
The mire was deep, and, the child did weep,
And away the vapour flew.

20. ZABLUDIVSHIJSYA MALXCHIK

"Otec, otec! kuda speshish'?
Pomedlennej idi.
Takaya tish', a ty molchish',
I temen' vperedi!"

I tochno: t'ma so vseh storon,
Bolotnaya rosa.
Naprasno on vzyval, smushchen,
Lish' par vokrug vilsya.

Perevod V. L. Toporova

21. THE LITTLE BOY FOUND

The little boy lost in the lonely fen,
Led by the wand'ring light,
Began to cry; but God, ever nigh,
Appear'd like his father, in white.

He kissed the child, and by the hand led,
And to his mother brought,
Who in sorrow pale, thro' the lonely dale,
Her little boy weeping sought.

21. MALXCHIK NAJDENNYJ

V tryasinu mal'chik ugodil,
Kruzha za svetlyakom;
On zakrichal - no tut predstal
Gospod': rodnym otcom.

Najdenysha on prilaskal
I k materi otnes,
Bluzhdavshej s krikom v lesu velikom,
Ohripshej ot dolgih slez.

Perevod V. L. Toporova

22. LAUGHING SONG

When the green woods laugh with the voice of joy,
And the dimpling stream runs laughing by;
When the air does laugh with our merry wit,
And the green hill laughs with the noise of it;

When the meadows laugh with lively green,
And the grasshopper laughs in the merry scene,
When Mary and Susan and Emily
With their sweet round mouths sing 'Ha, Ha, He!'

When the painted birds laugh in the shade,
Where our table with cherries and nuts is spread,
Come live, and be merry, and join with me,
To sing the sweet chorus of 'Ha, Ha, He!'

22. SMEYUSHCHAYASYA PESNYA

V chas, kogda listva shelestit, smeyas',
I smeetsya klyuch, mezh kamnej zmeyas',
I smeemsya, dal' vzbudorazhiv, my,
I so smehom shlyut nam otvet holmy,

I smeetsya rozh' i hmel'noj yachmen',
I kuznechik rad hohotat' ves' den',
I vdali zvenit, slovno gomon ptic,
"Ha-ha-ha! Ha-ha!" - zvonkij smeh devic,

A v teni vetvej stol nakryt dlya vseh,
I, smeyas', treshchit mezh zubov oreh, -
V etot chas pridi, ne boyas' greha,
Posmeyat'sya vslast': "Ho-ho-ho! Ha-ha!"

Perevod S. YA. Marshaka

23. A CRADLE SONG

Sweet dreams, form a shade
O'er my lovely infant's head;
Sweet dreams of pleasant streams
By happy, silent, moony beams.

Sweet sleep, with soft down
Weave thy brows an infant crown.
Sweet sleep, Angel mild,
Hover o'er my happy child.

Sweet smiles, in the night
Hover over my delight;
Sweet smiles, mother's smiles,
All the livelong night beguiles.

Sweet moans, dovelike sighs,
Chase not slumber from thy eyes.
Sweet moans, sweeter smiles,
All the dovelike moans beguiles.

Sleep, sleep, happy child,
All creation slept and smil'd;
Sleep, sleep, happy sleep,
While o'er thee thy mother weep.

Sweet babe, in thy face
Holy image I can trace.
Sweet babe, once like thee,
Thy Maker lay and wept for me,

Wept for me, for thee, for all,
When He was an infant small.
Thou His image ever see,
Heavenly face that smiles on thee,

Smiles on thee, on me, on all;
Who became an infant small.
Infant smiles are His own smiles;
Heaven and earth to peace beguiles.

23. KOLYBELXNAYA PESNYA

Sladost' snov, sojdi, kak ten',
Son, ditya moe oden'.
Sny, sojdite, kak ruchej
Lunnyh laskovyh luchej.

Sladkij son, kak nezhnyj puh,
Ubayukaj detskij sluh.
Angel krotkij, sladkij son,
Obstupi so vseh storon.

Smeh, sverkaj vo t'me nochej
Nad otradoyu moej.
Bud' s nim luchshej iz uteh,
Materinskij nezhnyj smeh.

Kazhdoj zhalobe shepni:
"Zadremli i otdohni".
Kazhdoj zhalobe skazhi:
"Kryl'ya legkie slozhi".

Spi, ditya, schastlivym snom,
Celyj mir usnul krugom.
Spi zhe, spi, rodimyj moj,
YA poplachu nad toboj.

Predo mnoj svyashchennyj lik
Na tvoem lice voznik,
Tvoj Sozdatel' zdes', vo sne,
Gor'ko plakal obo mne.

Kak nevinnoe ditya,
Plakal, glazkami blestya,
O tebe i obo vseh,
I slezami smyl nash greh.

I teper' glyadit, lyubya,
On s ulybkoj na tebya,
V snah rebenka spit on sam.
Mir zemle i nebesam.

Perevod K. D. Bal'monta

24. THE DIVINE IMAGE

To Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love
All pray in their distress;
And to these virtues of delight
Return their thankfulness.

For Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love
Is God, our Father dear,
And Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love
Is man, His child and care.

For Mercy has a human heart,
Pity a human face,
And Love, the human form divine,
And Peace, the human dress.

Then every man, of every clime,
That prays in his distress,
Prays to the human form divine,
Love, Mercy, Pity, Peace.

And all must love the human form,
In heathen, Turk, or Jew;
Where Mercy, Love, and Pity dwell
There God is dwelling too.

24. PO OBRAZU I PODOBIYU

Dobro, Smiren'e, Mir, Lyubov' -
Vot perechen' shchedrot,
Kotoryh kazhdyj chelovek,
Molya i placha, zhdet.

Dobro, Smiren'e, Mir, Lyubov'
Poznal v sebe Tvorec,
Dobro, Smiren'e, Mir, Lyubov'
Vlozhil v detej Otec.

I nashe serdce u Dobra,
I nash - Smiren'ya vzglyad,
I v nashem obraze - Lyubov',
Mir - nash natel'nyj plat.

Lyuboj iz nas, v lyuboj strane,
Zovet, yavyas' na svet,
Dobro, Smiren'e, Mir, Lyubov' -
Inoj molitvy net.

I nehrist' - tozhe chelovek,
I v tom lyubvi zalog:
Gde Mir, Smiren'e i Lyubov', -
Tam, vedomo, sam Bog.

Perevod V. L. Toporova

25. HOLY THURSDAY

'Twas on a Holy Thursday, their innocent faces clean,
The children walking two and two, in red and blue and green,
Grey-headed beadles walk'd before, with wands as white as snow,
Till into the high dome of Paul's they like Thames' waters flow.

O what a multitude they seem'd, these flowers of London town!
Seated in companies they sit with radiance all their own.
The hum of multitudes was there, but multitudes of lambs,
Thousands of little boys and girls raising their innocent hands.

Now like a mighty wind they raise to Heaven the voice of song,
Or like harmonious thunderings the seats of Heaven among.
Beneath them sit the aged men, wise guardians of the poor;
Then cherish pity, lest you drive an angel from your door.

25. SVYATOJ CHETVERG

Oni prohodyat po dva v ryad - sama Nevinnost' s nimi!
Oni idut, laskaya vzglyad odezhkami cvetnymi.
Sedye starcy vperedi, ch'ya kozha - zhestche pemzy.
Tolpa vlivaetsya v sobor, kak budto vody Temzy.

Kakie rossypi cvetov - zelenyj, sinij, krasnyj!
Otkuda v Anglii oni - v tumannoj i nenastnoj?
Uslyshish': galkami galdyat, prismotrish'sya: yagnyata;
Obryad svershaetsya svyatoj, i sami deti svyaty.

Vot vihrem pen'e podnyalos' i v nebo poletelo.
Grom chistoglasnyj oglasil cerkovnye pridely.
I starcy, mudry i shchedry, dushoj vzmyvayut k bogu.
Dayan'e - blago; ne goni prositelya s poroga.

Perevod V. L. Toporova

26. NIGHT

The sun descending in the west,
The evening star does shine;
The birds are silent in their nest,
And I must seek for mine.
The moon, like a flower,
In heaven's high bower,
With silent delight
Sits and smiles on the night.

Farewell, green fields and happy groves,
Where flocks have took delight.
Where lambs have nibbled, silent moves
The feet of angels bright;
Unseen they pour blessing,
And joy without ceasing,
On each bud and blossom,
And each sleeping bosom.

They look in every thoughtless nest,
Where birds are cover'd warm;
They visit caves of every beast,
To keep them all from harm.
If they see any weeping
That should have been sleeping,
They pour sleep on their head,
And sit down by their bed.

When wolves and tigers howl for prey,
They pitying stand and weep;
Seeking to drive their thirst away,
And keep them from the sheep.
But if they rush dreadful,
The angels, most heedful,
Receive each mild spirit,
New worlds to inherit.

And there the lion's ruddy eyes
Shall flow with tears of gold,
And pitying the tender cries,
And walking round the fold,
Saying 'Wrath, by His meekness,
And, by His health, sickness
Is driven away
From our immortal day.

'And now beside thee, bleating lamb,
I can lie down and sleep;
Or think on Him who bore thy name,
Graze after thee and weep.
For, wash'd in life's river
My bright mane for ever
Shall shine like the gold
As I guard o'er the fold.'

26. NOCHX

Zahodit solnce, i zvezda
Siyaet v vyshine.
Ne slyshno pesen iz gnezda.
Pora usnut' i mne.
Luna cvetkom chudesnym
V svoem sadu nebesnom
Glyadit na mir, odetyj v t'mu,
I ulybaetsya emu.

Proshchajte, roshchi i polya,
Nevinnyh stad priyut.
Sejchas, travy ne shevelya,
Tam angely idut
I l'yut blagosloven'e
Na kazhdoe rasten'e,
Na pochku, spyashchuyu poka,
I chashu kazhdogo cvetka.

Oni hranyat pokoj gnezda,
Gde spyat ptency vesnoj,
I ohranyayut ot vreda
Zverej v glushi lesnoj.
I esli po doroge
Uslyshat shum trevogi,
Pechal'nyj vzdoh il' tyazhkij ston,
Oni nesut stradal'cam son.

A esli volk il' moshchnyj lev
Vstrechaetsya v puti,
Oni speshat unyat' ih gnev
Il' zhertvu ih spasti.
No esli zver' k mol'bam ih gluh,
Nevinnoj zhertvy krotkij duh
Unosyat angely s soboj
V drugoe vremya, v mir drugoj.

I tam iz krasnyh l'vinyh glaz
Prol'yutsya kapli slez,
I budet ohranyat' on vas,
Stada ovec i koz,
I skazhet: "Gnev - lyubov'yu,
A nemoshchi - zdorov'em
Rasseyany, kak ten',
V bessmertnyj etot den'.

Teper', yagnenok, ya mogu
S toboyu ryadom lech',
Pastis' s toboyu na lugu
I tvoj pokoj berech'.
ZHivoj vodoj omylsya ya,
I griva pyshnaya moya,
CHto vsem zhivym vnushala strah,
Siyaet zolotom v luchah".

Perevod S. YA. Marshaka

27. SPRING

Sound the flute!
Now it's mute.
Birds delight
Day and night;
Nightingale
In the dale,
Lark in sky,
Merrily,
Merrily, merrily, to welcome in the year.

Little boy,
Full of joy;
Little girl,
Sweet and small;
Cock does crow,
So do you;
Merry voice,
Infant noise,
Merrily, merrily, to welcome in the year.

Little lamb,
Here I am;
Come and lick
My white neck;
Let me pull
Your soft wool;
Let me kiss
Your soft face:
Merrily, merrily, we welcome in the year.

27. VESNA

CHu, svirel'!
Smolkla trel'...
Solovej -
Mezh vetvej.
ZHavoronok v nebe.
Vsyudu ptichij shchebet.
Veselo, veselo
Vstrechaem my vesnu!

Rady vse na svete.
Raduyutsya deti.
Petuh - na naseste.
S nim poem my vmeste.
Veselo, veselo
Vstrechaem my vesnu!

Milyj moj yagnenok,
Golosok tvoj tonok.
Ty ko mne, druzhok, pril'ni,
YAzychkom menya lizni.
Daj pogladit', potrepat'
SHerstki shelkovuyu pryad'.
Daj-ka poceluyu
Mordochku smeshnuyu.
Veselo, veselo
Vstrechaem my vesnu!

Perevod S. YA. Marshaka

28. NURSE'S SONG

When the voices of children are heard on the green,
And laughing is heard on the hill,
My heart is at rest within my breast,
And everything else is still.

'Then come home, my children, the sun is gone down,
And the dews of night arise;
Come, come, leave off play, and let us away
Till the morning appears in the skies.'

'No, no, let us play, for it is yet day,
And we cannot go to sleep;
Besides, in the sky the little birds fly,
And the hills are all cover'd with sheep.'

'Well, well, go and play till the light fades away,

And then go home to bed.'
The little ones leaped and shouted and laugh'ed
And all the hills echoed.

28. NYANYUSHKINA PESNYA

Kogda detvora rezvitsya s utra,
Na holmy podnimayas' begom,
Spokojno mne v moej tishine,
I vse spokojno krugom.

"Domoj, detvora, teper' nam pora.
Na zakate rosa holodna.
Pora, detvora! Domoj do utra!
Gulyat' nam nel'zya dotemna".

"Net, eshche ne pora! I v razgare igra,
I solnce eshche ne zashlo.
V nebe mnozhestvo ptah, i stada na holmah.
I po-prezhnemu v mire svetlo!"

"Horosho, detvora, pravda, spat' vam pora,
Ne pomerk eshche radostnyj svet!"
Ot holma do holma kriki, smeh, kuter'ma,
Tak chto eho smeetsya v otvet.

Perevod V. B. Mikushevicha

29. INFANT JOY

'I have no name:
I am but two days old.'
What shall I call thee?
'I happy am,
Joy is my name.'
Sweet joy befall thee!

Pretty Joy!
Sweet Joy, but two days old.
Sweet Joy I call thee
Thou dost smile,
I sing the while,
Sweet joy befall thee!

29. DITYA-RADOSTX

- Mne tol'ko dva dnya.
Net u menya
Poka eshche imeni.
- Kak zhe tebya nazovu?
- Raduyus' ya, chto zhivu.
Radost'yu - tak i zovi menya!

Radost' moya -
Dvuh tol'ko dnej, -
Radost' dana mne sud'boyu.

Glyadya na radost' moyu,
YA poyu:
Radost' da budet s toboyu!

Perevod S. YA. Marshaka

30. A DREAM

Once a dream did weave a shade
O'er my Angel-guarded bed,
That an emmet lost its way
Where on grass methought I lay.

Troubled, 'wilder'd, and forlorn,
Dark, benighted, travel-worn,
Over many a tangled spray,
AH heart-broke I heard her say:

'O, my children! do they cry?
Do they hear their father sigh?
Now they look abroad to see:
Now return and weep for me.'

Pitying, I dropp'd a tear;
But I saw a glow-worm near,
Who replied: 'What wailing wight
Calls the watchman of the night?

'I am set to light the ground,
While the beetle goes his round:
Follow now the beetle's hum;
Little wanderer, hie thee home.'

30. SON

V izgolov'e Angel vstal,
A vo sne ya uvidal,
CHto lezhu na travke ya
I glyazhu na murav'ya.

A neschastnyj muravej,
Kak v lesu, bredet v trave,
ZHalok, mal i odinok.
Vot chto, placha, on izrek:

"Deti! ishchete l' otca,
Oklikaya bez konca?
Ah! ostav'te poisk svoj.
Siroty, pora domoj!.."

YA zaplakal: vot bednyak.
Vdrug, smotryu, speshit svetlyak,
Molvya: "Hvatit! eto my!
Kto trevozhit Strazha t'my?

YA Svetlyak, so mnoyu ZHuk,
YA esm' svet, a on est' zvuk,
Pospeshi na zvuk i svet -
Ohranim tebya ot bed!"

Perevod V. L. Toporova

31. ON ANOTHER'S SORROW

Can I see another's woe,
And not be in sorrow too?
Can I see another's grief,
And not seek for kind relief?

Can I see a falling tear,
And not feel my sorrow's share?
Can a father see his child
Weep, nor be with sorrow fill'd?

Can a mother sit and hear
An infant groan, an infant fear?
No, no! never can it be!
Never, never can it be!

And can He who smiles on all
Hear the wren with sorrows small,
Hear the small bird's grief and care,
Hear the woes that infants bear,

And not sit beside the nest,
Pouring pity in their breast;
And not sit the cradle near,
Weeping tear on infant's tear;

And not sit both night and day,
Wiping all our tears away?
O, no! never can it be!
Never, never can it be!

He doth give His joy to all;
He becomes an infant small;
He becomes a man of woe;
He doth feel the sorrow too.

Think not thou canst sigh a sigh,
And thy Maker is not by;
Think not thou canst weep a tear,
Arid thy Maker is not near.

O! He gives to us His joy
That our grief He may destroy;
Till our grief is fled and gone
He doth sit by us and moan.

31. O SKORBI BLIZHNEGO

Razve blizhnih vam ne zhal',
Esli ih gnetet pechal'?
Znaya blizhnego muchen'ya,
Kto ne ishchet oblegchen'ya?

Mozhno l', vidya slez ruch'i,
Ne pribavit' k nim svoi?
I kogo iz vas ne tronet,
Esli syn vash tyazhko stonet?

I kakaya mozhet mat'
Vmeste s kroshkoj ne stradat'?
Net, net, nikogda,
Ni za chto i nikogda!

Kak zhe tot, kto vsem otec,
Vidit skorb' tvoyu, ptenec?
Kak vsevidyashchij i chutkij
Mozhet slyshat' ston malyutki

I ne byt' vblizi gnezda,
Gde trevoga i nuzhda,
I ne byt' u toj krovatki,
Gde rebenok v lihoradke?

Ne sidet' s nim den' i noch'.
Ne davaya iznemoch'?
Net, net, nikogda,
Ni za chto i nikogda!

On daet otradu nam,
On mladencem byl i sam,
Sam izvedal on pechal',
I emu stradal'cev zhal'.

Razve slabyj detskij ston
S vysoty ne slyshit on?
Razve kazhdyj vzdoh lyudskoj
Ne vstrechaet on s toskoj?

On stremitsya nam pomoch'.
Nashi skorbi gonit proch',
A poka ih ne progonit,
On i sam ot skorbi stonet.

Perevod S. YA. Marshaka

SONGS OF EXPERIENCE

32. INTRODUCTION

Hear the voice of the Bard!
Who present, past, and future, sees;
Whose ears have heard
The Holy Word
That walk'd among the ancient trees,

Calling the lapsed soul,
And weeping in the evening dew;
That might control
The starry pole,
And fallen, fallen light renew!

'O Earth, O Earth, return!
Arise from out the dewy grass;
Night is worn,
And the morn
Rises from the slumberous mass.

'Turn away no more;
Why wilt thou turn away.
Die starry floor,
The wat'ry shore,
Is giv'n thee till the break of day.'

PESNI POZNANIYA

32. VSTUPLENIE

Slushajte golos Pevca!
Pesnya ego razbudit
Vashi serdca
Slovom Tvorca -
Slovo bylo, i est', i budet.

Zabludshie dushi Ono zovet,
Vopiya nad rosoj vechernej,
A chern nebosvod -
Vnov' zvezdy zazhzhet,
Mir vyrvet iz t'my dochernej!

"Vernis', o Zemlya Svetla,
Mrak otryahaya rosnyj!
Noch' dryahla,
Rassvetnaya mgla
Brezzhit v tryasine kosnoj.

Ne ischezaj nikogda!
CHto tebe zdes' nejmetsya?
V nebe zvezda,
V more voda -
Malo l' chego najdetsya".

Perevod V. L. Toporova

33. EARTH'S ANSWER

Earth rais'd up her head
From the darkness dread and drear.
Her light fled,
Stony dread!
And her locks cover'd with grey despair.

'Prison'd on wat'ry shore,
Starry Jealousy does keep my den:
Cold and hoar,
Weeping o'er,
I hear the Father of the Ancient Men.

'Selfish Father of Men!
Cruel, jealous, selfish Fear!
Can delight,
Chain'd in night,
The virgins of youth and morning bear?

'Does spring hide its joy
When buds and blossoms grow?
Does the sower
Sow by night,
Or the ploughman in darkness plough?

'Break this heavy chain
That does freeze my bones around.
Selfish! vain!
Eternal bane!
That free Love with bondage bound.'

33. OTVET ZEMLI

No tyazhelo vo mrak
Smotrit Zemlya slepaya
Svet issyak!
Kamen' i prah!
V gore sklonilas' glava sedaya.

"More menya sdavilo.
Zavist' zvezd izvela,
Kak mogila,
Mne telo izryla
YArost' Otca Mirovogo Zla.

Nizkij sebyalyubec Tvorec!
Zlobnyj zavistnik Strah!
Utru obeshchannaya,
Obescheshchena,
Stonet na dybe Nevinnost' v cepyah!

Veshnemu vetru nel'zya ne veyat',
Pochkam - ne nabuhat'.
Mozhet li seyatel'
Noch'yu seyat',
Pahar' - vo t'me pahat'?

Holod zvezdnyh okov ledyanoj
Kosti moi pronzil.
Strashnyj! zloj!
Lyubuyas' soboj,
Radost' i rabstvo ty slil".

Perevod V. L. Toporova

34. THE CLOD AND THE PEBBLE

'Love seeketh not itself to please,
Nor for itself hath any care,
But for another gives its ease,
And builds a Heaven in Hell's despair.'

So sung a little Clod of Clay,
Trodden with the cattle's feet,
But a Pebble of the brook
Warbled out these metres meet:

'Love seeketh only Self to please,
To bind another to its delight,
Joys in another's loss of ease,
And builds a Hell in Heaven's despite.'

34. KOM ZEMLI I KAMENX

- Ne sebyalyubica Lyubov':
Gotova preterpet' bedu,
Prolit' slezu, poroyu krov'...
S lyubov'yu schast'e - i v adu! -

Tak pel bespechnyj Kom Zemli.
Vdrug - Loshad'. I kopytom - trah!
I Kamen', pritayas' v pyli,
Peredraznil v takih stihah:

- Net, sebyalyubica Lyubov':
Gotovit vsem bedu svoyu -
Te slezy l'yut, poroyu - krov':
S lyubov'yu - gore i v rayu!

Perevod V. L. Toporova

35. HOLY THURSDAY

Is this a holy thing to see
In a rich and fruitful land,
Babes reduc'd to misery,
Fed with cold and usurious hand?

Is that trembling cry a song?
Can it be a song of joy?
And so many children poor?
It is a land of poverty!

And their sun does never shine,
And their fields are bleak and bare,
And their ways are fill'd with thorns:
It is eternal winter there.

For where'er the sun does shine,
And where'er the rain does fall,
Babe can never hunger there,
Nor poverty the mind appal.

35. SVYATOJ CHETVERG

Svyatost' - eto ne pro vas.
Vasha milostynya - sram.
Vzglyad golodnyh detskih glaz
Prigovor vynosit vam.

Ili plach zvenit, kak pesn'?
Ili plachut ne vser'ez?
Ili bednost', kak bolezn', -
Prohodyashchaya ot slez?

CHto za nishchaya strana!
Kruglyj god stoit zima,
Celyj den' - nochnaya t'ma,
Niva toshchaya cherna.

Ibo solncem i dozhdem
Tot lish' kraj odaren, gde
Detyam golod neznakom
I - net nuzhdy v nizkoj mzde.

Perevod V. L. Toporova

36. THE LITTLE GIRL LOST

In futurity
I prophetic see
That the earth from sleep
(Grave the sentence deep)

Shall arise and seek
For her Maker meek;
And the desert wild
Become a garden mild.

In the southern clime,
Where the summer's prime
Never fades away,
Lovely Lyca lay.

Seven summers old
Lovely Lyca told;
She had wander'd long
Hearing wild birds' song.

'Sweet sleep, come to me
Underneath this tree.
Do father, mother, weep?
Where can Lyca sleep?

'Lost in desert wild
Is your little child.
How can Lyca sleep
If her mother weep?

'If her heart does ache
Then let Lyca wake;
If my mother sleep,
Lyca shall not weep.

'Frowning, frowning night,
O'er this desert bright,
Let thy moon arise
While I close my eyes.'

Sleeping Lyca lay
While the beasts of prey,
Come from caverns deep,
View'd the maid asleep.

The kingly lion stood,
And the virgin view'd,
Then he gamboll'd round
O'er the hallow'd ground.

Leopards, tigers, play
Round her as she lay,
While the lion old
Bow'd his mane of gold

And her bosom lick,
And upon her neck
From his eyes of flame
Ruby tears there came;

While the lioness
Loos'd her slender dress,
And naked they convey'd
To caves the sleeping maid.

36. ZABLUDSHAYA DOCHX

Dnes' provizhu ya:
Son stryahnet zemlya
(V glubine dushi
|to zapishi),

CHtoby nakonec
Najden byl Tvorec
I v pustyne sad
Posle vseh utrat.

V dal'nej toj strane,
Gde net konca vesne,
Devochka lezhit
Let semi na vid.

Lika dolgo shla.
Pticam net chisla.
Golosa v glushi
Divno horoshi.

"Slyshu v tishine:
Plachut obo mne
I otec i mat'.
Kak mne zadremat'?

Nastupila noch'.
V pustyne vasha doch'.
Razve mozhno spat',
Esli plachet mat'?

Like ne do sna,
Esli mat' grustna.
Esli dremlet mat',
Mozhno mne pospat'.

Sumrachnaya noch'!
Like spat' nevmoch'.
Glyadya na lunu,
YA glaza somknu".

K nej prihodit son,
I so vseh storon
Sobralos' nad nej
Mnozhestvo zverej.

Staryj plyashet lev,
Liku razglyadev,
Les likuet ves':
Mesto svyato zdes'.

I vokrug nee
Krotkoe zver'e,
Tak chto lev-starik
Pered nej ponik.

On lizal ee,
On lobzal ee.
Alaya sleza
Zveryu zhzhet glaza.

V umilen'e lev.
Devochku razdev,
L'vica v temnyj grot
Spyashchuyu beret.

Perevod V. B. Mikushevicha

37. THE LITTLE GIRL FOUND

All the night in woe
Lyca's parents go
Over valleys deep,
While the deserts weep.

Tired and woe-begone,
Hoarse with making moan,
Arm in arm seven days
They trac'd the desert ways.

Seven nights they sleep
Among shadows deep,
And dream they see their child
Starv'd in desert wild.

Pale, thro' pathless ways
The fancied image strays
Famish'd, weeping, weak.
With hollow piteous shriek.

Rising from unrest,
The trembling woman prest
With feet of weary woe:
She could no further go.

In his arms he bore
Her, arm'd with sorrow sore;
Till before their way
A couching lion lay.

Turning back was vain:
Soon his heavy mane
Bore them to the ground.
Then he stalk'd around,

Smelling to his prey;
But their fears allay
When he licks their hands,
And silent by them stands.

They look upon his eyes
Fill'd with deep surprise;
And wondering behold
A spirit arm'd in gold.

On his head a crown;
On his shoulders down
Flow'd his golden hair.
Gone was all their care.

'Follow me,' he said;
'Weep not for the maid;
In my palace deep
Lyca lies asleep.'

Then they followed
Where the vision led,
And saw their sleeping child
Among tigers wild.

To this day they dwell
In a lonely dell;
Nor fear the wolfish howl
Nor the lions' growl.

37. OBRETENNAYA DOCHX

I otec i mat'
Vyshli doch' iskat'.
V dolah ni dushi.
Rydaniya v glushi.

Ishchut naugad,
Plachut i krichat.
Sem' pechal'nyh dnej
Oni v razluke s nej.

Sem' nochej podryad
Vo t'me pustynnoj spyat.
V teh mestah gluhih
Son morochit ih.

Budto slabyj krik
V dushu k nim pronik.
Lika golodna,
Izmuchena, bledna.

Istomilas' mat'
I ne v silah vstat'.
Muzh pomog zhene
V bezlyudnoj toj strane.

Nemoshchnuyu nes,
Oslabev ot slez,
SHel edva-edva.
Vdrug on vidit l'va.

Grivoj lev tryaset.
Slabyh kto spaset?
Pered groznym l'vom
Padayut nichkom.

Zver' obnyuhal ih
I, vzdohnuv, pritih.
Net, ne rasterzal, -
Ruki oblizal.

Podnyali glaza.
Minula groza.
Duh glazam predstal,
Zolotom blistal.

V zolotoj brone,
Slovno ves' v ogne.
Volosy do plech.
Carstvennaya rech':

- Sledujte za mnoj
V moj chertog zemnoj.
Lika vasha v nem
Spit glubokim snom.

V zapovednyj grot
Videnie vedet.
Spat' sredi zverej
Devochke teplej.

Tam zhivut oni
Do sih por odni,
Ne strashas' volkov
I svirepyh l'vov.

Perevod V. B. Mikushevicha

38. THE CHIMNEY SWEEPER

A little black thing among the snow,
Crying ' 'weep! 'weep!' in notes of woe!
'Where are thy father and mother, say?' -
'They are both gone up to the Church to pray.

'Because I was happy upon the heath,
And smil'd among the winter's snow,
They clothed me in the clothes of death,
And taught me to sing the notes of woe.

'And because I am happy and dance and sing,
They think they have done me no injury,
And are gone to praise God and His Priest and King,
Who make up a Heaven of our misery.'

38. MALENXKIJ TRUBOCHIST

Malysh chumazyj, - v metel', v moroz, -
Na grebne kryshi oslep ot slez.
- Kuda ushli vy, otec i mat'?
- Molit'sya bogu, spasen'ya zhdat'.

- Ne unyval ya iyul'skim dnem,
Ne goreval ya v metel', v moroz.
Mne sshili savan vy, mat' s otcom,
Na grebne kryshi, v yudoli slez.

Ne unyvayu - plyashu, poyu, -
A vy i rady: rabota vprok.
Ves' den' na nebe - da ne v rayu.
V rayu - svyashchennik, korol' i bog.

Perevod V. L. Toporova

39. NURSE'S SONG

When the voices of children are heard on the green
And whisp'rings are in the dale,
The days of my youth rise fresh in my mind,
My face turns green and pale.

Then come home, my children, the sun is gone down,
And the dews of night arise;
Your spring and your day are wasted in play,
And your winter and night in disguise.

39. NYANYUSHKINA PESNYA

Kogda detvora rezvitsya s utra
I slyshitsya shepot v teni,
Kak bol'no mne vspominat' v tishine
Moi minuvshie dni!

Pora vozvrashchat'sya domoj, detvora!
Na zakate rosa holodna.
Zatyanulas' igra, i uznat' vam pora,
Kak zima ledyanaya temna.

Perevod V. B. Mikushevicha

40. THE SICK ROSE

O Rose, thou art sick!
The invisible worm,
That flies in the night,
In the howling storm,

Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy;
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.

40. BOLXNAYA ROZA

O roza, ty bol'na!
Vo mrake nochi burnoj
Razvedal cherv' tajnik
Lyubvi tvoej purpurnoj.

I on tuda pronik,
Nezrimyj, nenasytnyj,
I zhizn' tvoyu sgubil
Svoej lyubov'yu skrytnoj.

Perevod V. A. Potapovoj

41. THE FLY

Little Fly,
Thy summer's play
My thoughtless hand
Has brush'd away.

Am not I
A fly like thee?
Or art not thou
A man like me?

For I dance,
And drink, and sing,
Till some blind hand
Shall brush my wing.

If thought is life
And strength and breath,
And the want
Of thought is death;

Then am I
A happy fly,
If I live
Or if I die.

41. MOTYLEK

ZHal' motyl'ka!
Moya ruka
Nashla ego
V rayu cvetka.

Moj kratok vek.
Tvoj kratok srok.
Ty chelovek.
YA motylek.

Porhayu, znaya:
Sgrebet, smetet
Ruka slepaya
I moj polet.

No esli myslit'
I znachit - byt',
A konchiv myslit',
Konchaem zhit', -

To zhit' zhelayu
Moj kratkij srok, -
Ves' vek porhaya, -
Kak motylek.

Perevod V. L. Toporova

42. THE ANGEL

I dreamt a dream! what can it mean?
And that I was a maiden Queen,
Guarded by an Angel mild:
Witless woe was ne'er beguil'd!

And I wept both night and day,
And he wip'd my tears away,
And I wept both day and night,
And hid from him my heart's delight.

So he took his wings and fled;
Then the morn blush'd rosy red;
I dried my tears, and arm'd my fears
With ten thousand shields and spears.

Soon my Angel came again:
I was arm'd, he came in vain;
For the time of youth was fled,
And grey hairs were on my head.

42. ANGEL

Mne snilsya son - prestrannyj son!
Bezmuzhnej ya vzoshla na tron,
Lish' krotkij angel byl so mnoj -
Bespomoshchnyj zastupnik moj.

I den' i noch' moj krik zvuchal,
A on mne slezy utiral;
O chem - i noch' i den' - moj krik,
YA skryla, angel ne postig.

On uletel v rassvetnyj chas,
I tyshchi kopij i kiras
YA vernym strazham razdala,
A plakat' - bol'she ne mogla.

Vernulsya vskore angel moj -
Strah ne puskaet v moj pokoj, -
I ne uvidit nikogda,
CHto golova moya seda.

Perevod V. L. Toporova

43. THE TYGER

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder, and what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? and what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

43. TIGR

Tigr, o tigr! krovavyj spoloh,
Bystryj blesk v polnochnyh dolah,
Ustrashitel'naya stat',
Kto posmel tebya sozdat'?

V preispodnej il' v edeme
Nekto v carskoj diademe
Ogn' v ochah tvoih zazheg?
Kak on vyterpel ozhog?

Kto kachnul rukoyu vlastnoj
Serdca mayatnik uzhasnyj
I, uslyshav groznyj stuk,
Ne ubral smyatennyh ruk?

Kto hrebet krepil i prochil?
V kuzne kto tebya vorochal?
V ch'ih kleshchah tvoj mozg pylal?
CH'eyu zloboj zakipal?

A kogda ty v noch' umchalsya,
Neuzheli ulybalsya
Tvoj sozdatel' - vozlyubya
I yagnenka, i - tebya?

Tigr, o tigr! krovavyj spoloh,
Bystryj blesk v polnochnyh dolah,
Ustrashitel'naya stat', -
Kto velel tebe vosstat'?

Perevod V. L. Toporova

44. MY PRETTY ROSE-TREE

A flower was offer'd to me,
Such a flower as May never bore;
But I said 'I've a pretty Rose-tree,'
And I passed the sweet flower o'er.

Then I went to my pretty Rose-tree,
To tend her by day and by night,
But my Rose turn'd away with jealousy,
And her thorns were my only delight.

44. MOJ ROZOVYJ KUST

YA uvidel cvetok. On, manya,
Kak v nevidannom mae, rascvel.
"Est' rozovyj kust u menya", -
YA podumal i mimo proshel.

Den' i noch', ne vedaya sna,
YA leleyal by rozu moyu.
No revnivo zamknulas' ona -
Lish' kolyuchki ee poznayu.

Perevod V. L. Toporova

x x x

45. Ah, Sun-flower! weary of time,
Who countest the steps of the sun;
Seeking after that sweet golden clime,
Where the traveller's journey is done;

Where the Youth pined away with desire,
And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow,
Arise from their graves, and aspire
Where my Sun-flower wishes to go.

x x x

45. Ah! podsolnuh! chto za zhrebij
Merit' solnca shag dnevnoj
I grustit' o znojnom nebe
Nad blazhennoyu stranoj,

Gde, bezhav ot l'da i zloby,
Otrok s devoyu, chisty,
Zryat, pustye kinuv groby,
Kraj, kotorym bredish' ty.

Perevod V. L. Toporova

46. THE LILY

The modest Rose puts forth a thorn,
The humble Sheep a threat'ning horn;
While the Lily white shall in love delight,
Nor a thorn, nor a threat, stain her beauty bright.

46. LILEYA

Terniem kolet Roza, stroga.
Ovechka, grozya, podymaet roga.
A Lileya, bela, dlya lyubvi rascvela,
Ne ugrozoj, ne tern'em - krasotoyu vzyala.

Perevod A. V. Parina

47. THE GARDEN OF LOVE

I went to the Garden of Love,
And saw what I never had seen:
A Chapel was built in the midst,
Where I used to play on the green.

And the gates of this Chapel were shut,
And 'Thou shalt not' writ over the door;
So I turn'd to the Garden of Love
That so many sweet flowers bore;

And I saw it was filled with graves,
And tomb-stones where flowers should be;
And priests in black gowns were walking their rounds,
And binding with briars my joys and desires.

47. SAD LYUBVI

YA otpravilsya v Sad Lyubvi.
YA i ran'she byval tam ne raz.
No, pridya, ya ego ne uznal:
Tam chasovnya stoyala sejchas.

Dver' v chasovnyu byla zaperta.
"Bog nakazhet" - prochel ya nad nej.
YA prochel, oglyanulsya vokrug:
Ne uznal ni derev, ni allej.

Tam, gde bylo prostorno cvetam,
Tesno zhalis' mogily teper',
I svyashchenniki v chernom shli shagom dozornym
I puty pechali na lyubov' nalagali.

Perevod V. L. Toporova

48. THE LITTLE VAGABOND

Dear mother, dear mother, the Church is cold,
But the Ale-house is healthy and pleasant and warm;
Besides I can tell where I am used well,
Such usage in Heaven will never do well.

But if at the Church they would give us some ale,
And a pleasant fire our souls to regale,
We'd sing and we'd pray all the livelong day,
Nor ever once wish from the Church to stray.

Then the Parson might preach, and drink, and sing,
And we'd be as happy as birds in the spring;
And modest Dame Lurch, who is always at church,
Would not have bandy children, nor fasting, nor birch.

And God, like a father, rejoicing to see
His children as pleasant and happy as He,
Would have no more quarrel with the Devil or the barrel,
But kiss him, and give him both drink and apparel.

48. MALENXKIJ BRODYAZHKA

Ah, mamen'ka, v cerkvi i holod i mrak.
Kuda veselej pridorozhnyj kabak.
K tomu zhe ty znaesh' povadku moyu -
Takomu brodyazhke ne mesto v rayu.

Vot ezheli v cerkvi dadut nam vinca
Da plamenem zharkim sogreyut serdca,
YA budu molit'sya ves' den' i vsyu noch'.
Nikto nas iz cerkvi ne vygonit proch'.

I stanet nash pastyr' sluzhit' veselej.
My schastlivy budem, kak pticy polej.
I strogaya tetka, chto v cerkvi ves' vek,
Ne stanet porot' maloletnih kalek.

I bog budet schastliv, kak dobryj otec,
Uvidev dovol'nyh detej nakonec.
Naverno, prostit on bochonok i cherta
I d'yavolu vydast kamzol i botforty.

Perevod S. YA. Marshaka

49. LONDON

I wander thro' each charter'd street,
Near where the charter'd Thames does flow,
And mark in every face I meet
Marks of weakness, marks of woe.

In every cry of every Man,
In every Infant's cry of fear,
In every voice, in every ban,
The mind-forg'd manacles I hear.

How the chimney-sweeper's cry
Every black'ning church appals;
And the hapless soldiers sigh

Runs in blood down palace walls.

But most thro' midnight streets I hear
How the youthful harlot's curse
Blasts the new-born infant's tear,
And blights with plagues the marriage hearse.

49. LONDON

Po vol'nym ulicam brozhu,
U vol'noj izdavna reki.
Na vseh ya licah nahozhu
Pechat' bessil'ya i toski.

Muzhskaya bran', i zhenskij ston,
I plach ispugannyh detej
V moih ushah zvuchat, kak zvon
Zakonom sozdannyh cepej.

Zdes' trubochistov yunyh kriki
Pugayut sumrachnyj sobor,
I krov' soldata-goremyki
Techet na korolevskij dvor.

A ot proklyatij i ugroz
Devchonki v zakoulkah mrachnyh
CHerneyut kapli detskih slez
I katafalki novobrachnyh.

Perevod S. YA. Marshaka

50. THE HUMAN ABSTRACT

Pity would be no more
If we did not make somebody poor;
And Mercy no more could be
If all were as happy as we.

And mutual fear brings peace,
Till the selfish loves increase:
Then Cruelty knits a snare,
And spreads his baits with care.

He sits down with holy fears,
And waters the ground with tears;
Then Humility takes its root
Underneath his foot.

Soon spreads the dismal shade
Of Mystery over his head;
And the caterpillar and fly
Feed on the Mystery.

And it bears the fruit of Deceit,
Ruddy and sweet to eat;
And the raven his nest has made
In its thickest shade.

The Gods of the earth and sea
Sought thro' Nature to find this tree;
But their search was all in vain:
There grows one in the Human brain.

50. CHELOVECHESKAYA ABSTRAKCIYA

Byla by zhalost' na zemle edva li,
Ne dovodi my blizhnih do sumy.
I miloserd'ya lyudi by ne znali,
Bud' i drugie schastlivy, kak my.

Pokoj i mir hranit vzaimnyj strah.
I sebyalyub'e vlastvuet na svete.
I vot zhestokost', skrytaya vpot'mah,
Na perekrestkah rasstavlyaet seti.

Svyatogo straha yakoby polna,
Slezami grud' zemli poit ona.
I skoro pod ee zloveshchej sen'yu
Rostki puskaet krotkoe smiren'e.

Ego pokrov zelenyj rasproster
Nad vsej zemlej misticheskij shater.
I tajnyj cherv', mertvyashchij vse zhivoe,
Pitaetsya tainstvennoj listvoyu.

Ono prinosit lyudyam kazhdyj god
Obmana sochnyj i rumyanyj plod.
I v gushche list'ev, temnoj i tletvornoj,
Nevidimo gnezditsya voron chernyj.

Vse nashi bogi neba i zemli
Iskali eto derevo ot veka.
- No otyskat' donyne ne mogli:
Ono rastet v mozgu u cheloveka.

Perevod S. YA. Marshaka

51. INFANT SORROW

My mother groan'd, my father wept,
Into the dangerous world I leapt;
Helpless, naked, piping loud,
Like a fiend hid in a cloud.

Straggling in my father's hands,
Striving against my swaddling-bands,
Bound and weary, I thought best
To sulk upon my mother's breast.

51. DITYA-GORE

Mat' v slezah. Otec vzbeshen.
Strashnyj mir so vseh storon.
Zatayus', nelep i nag,
Slovno d'yavol v pelenah.

To v rukah otcovskih hvatkih
YA zab'yus' v besovskih shvatkah,
To ugryumyj vzor upru
V mir, chto mne ne po nutru.

Perevod V. L. Toporova

52. A POISON TREE

I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And I water'd it in fears,
Night and morning with my tears;
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright;
And my foe behold it shine,
And he knew that it was mine,

And into my garden stole
When the night had veil'd the pole:
In the morning glad I see
My foe outstretch'd beneath the tree.

52. DREVO YADA

V yarost' drug menya privel -
Gnev izlil ya, gnev proshel.
Vrag obidu mne nanes -
YA molchal, no gnev moj ros.

YA tail ego v tishi
V glubine svoej dushi,
To slezami polival,
To ulybkoj sogreval.

Ros on noch'yu, ros on dnem.
Zrelo yablochko na nem,
YAda sladkogo polno.
Znal moj nedrug, ch'e ono.

Temnoj noch'yu v tishine
On prokralsya v sad ko mne
I ostalsya nedvizhim,
YAdom skovannyj moim.

Perevod S. YA. Marshaka

53. A LITTLE BOY LOST

'Nought loves another as itself,
Nor venerates another so,
Nor is it possible to Thought
A greater than itself to know:

'And, Father, how can I love you
Or any of my brothers more?.
I love you like the little bird
That picks up crumbs around the door.'

The Priest sat by and heard the child,
In trembling zeal he seiz'd his hair:
He led him by his little coat,
And all admir'd the priestly care.

And standing on the altar high,
'Lo! what a fiend is here,' said he,
'One who sets reason up for judge
Of our most holy Mystery.'

The weeping child could not be heard,
The weeping parents wept in vain;
They stripp'd him to his little shirt,
And bound him in an iron chain;

And burn'd him in a holy place,
Where many had been burn'd before:
The weeping parents wept in vain.
Are such things done on Albion's shore?

53. ZABLUDIVSHIJSYA MALXCHIK

"Nel'zya lyubit' i uvazhat'
Drugih, kak sobstvennoe ya,
Ili chuzhuyu mysl' priznat'
Gorazdo bol'shej, chem svoya.

YA ne mogu lyubit' sil'nej
Ni mat', ni brat'ev, ni otca.
YA ih lyublyu, kak vorobej,
CHto lovit kroshki u kryl'ca".

Uslyshav eto, duhovnik
Ditya za volosy shvatil
I povolok za vorotnik.
A vse hvalili etot pyl.

Potom, vzobravshis' na amvon,
Skazal svyashchennik: "Vot zlodej!
Umom ponyat' pytalsya on
To, chto sokryto ot lyudej!"

I ne byl slyshen detskij plach,
Naprasno umolyala mat',
Kogda ditya razdel palach
I nachal cep' na nem kovat'.

Byl na kostre - drugim na strah -
Prestupnik malen'kij sozhzhen...
Ne na tvoih li beregah
Vse eto bylo, Al'bion?

Perevod S. YA. Marshaka

54. A LITTLE GIRL LOST

Children of the future age,
Reading this indignant page,
Know that in a former time,
Love, sweet Love, was thought a crime!

In the Age of Gold,
Free from winter's cold,
Youth and maiden bright
To the holy light,
Naked in the sunny beams delight.

Once a youthful pair,
Fill'd with softest care,
Met in garden bright
Where the holy light
Had just remov'd the curtains of the night.

There, in rising day,
On the grass they play;
Parents were afar,
Strangers came not near,
And the maiden soon forgot her fear.

Tired with kisses sweet,
They agree to meet
When the silent sleep
Waves o'er heaven's deep,
And the weary tired wanderers weep.

To her father white
Came the maiden bright;
But his loving look,
Like the holy book,
All her tender limbs with terror shook.

'Ona! pale and weak!
To thy father speak:
O! the trembling fear,
O! the dismal care,
That shakes the blossoms of my hoary hair!'

54. ZABLUDSHAYA DEVOCHKA

Deti budushchih vekov!
Iz razgnevannyh stihov
Vy uznaete o tom,
CHto Lyubov' byla grehom.

V veke zolotom,
Svetom zalitom, -
Vechnaya vesna
I, kak sneg yasna,
YUnyh tel nagaya belizna.

On, ona - yuny,
Nezhnyh dum polny.
Horosho dvoim
Utrom zolotym,
Utrom, vechnym svetom zalitym.

V utrennej tishi
V kushchah ni dushi:
Ne glyadit otec,
Ne speshit gonec, -
Una vnemlet trepetu serdec.

Vosstayut iz trav,
Radostno ustav;
Novoj vstrechi zhdut
V chas, kak vse usnut,
V chas, kogda lish' stranniki bredut.

I, kak sneg svetla,
V dom k otcu voshla.
Bel otec kak led,
Poly svyatyh zabot,
On vzglyanul - i strah ee tryaset.

"Doch', kak ty bledna!
Una, ty bol'na?
O, potoki slez!
Gibel'nyj vopros
Rvet, kak vihr', cvety sedyh volos!"

Perevod V. L. Toporova

55. TO TIRZAH

Whate'er is born of mortal birth
Must be consumed with the earth,
To rise from generation free:
Then what have I to do with thee?

The sexes sprung from shame and pride,
Blow'd in the morn; in evening died;
But Mercy chang'd death into sleep;
The sexes rose to work and weep.

Thou, Mother of my mortal part,
With cruelty didst mould my heart,
And with false self-deceiving tears
Didst bind my nostrils, eyes, and ears;

Didst close my tongue in senseless clay,
And me to mortal life betray:
The death of Jesus set me free:
Then what have I to do with thee?

55. K TIRZE

Rozhdennyj Mater'yu Zemnoj
Opyat' smeshaetsya s Zemlej;
Stav prahom, stanet Perst' ravna -
Tak chto zhe mne v tebe, ZHena?

Vosstav iz Spesi i Styda,
Dva Pola pali v Nikuda;
No Smert' do Sna nizvedena -
Dva Pola vstali posle sna.

Mat' Smertnoj Uchasti Moej!
Daritel'nica Vseh Skorbej!
Zamazala tvoya sleza
Mne Nozdri, Ushi i Glaza.

Mne kosnym sdelala YAzyk.
Na smert' ya iz Tebya voznik!
Dusha Golgofoj spasena -
Tak chto zhe mne v tebe, ZHena?

Perevod V. L. Toporova

56. THE SCHOOLBOY

I love to rise in a summer morn
When the birds sing on every tree;
The distant huntsman winds his horn,
And the skylark sings with me.
O! what sweet company.

But to go to school in a summer morn,
O! it drives all joy away;
Under a cruel eye outworn,
The little ones spend the day

In sighing and dismay.

Ah! then at times I drooping sit,
And spend many an anxious hour,
Nor in my book can I take delight,
Nor sit in learning's bower,
Worn thro' with the dreary shower.

How can the bird that is born for joy
Sit in a cage and sing?
How can a child, when fears annoy,
But droop his tender wing,
And forget his youthful spring?

O! father and mother, if buds are nipp'd
And blossoms blown away,
And if the tender plants are stripp'd
Of their joy in the springing day,
By sorrow and care's dismay,

How shall the summer arise in joy,
Or the summer fruits appear?
Or how shall we gather what griefs destroy,
Or bless the mellowing year,
When the blasts of winter appear?

56. SHKOLXNIK

Lyublyu ya letnij chas rassveta.
SHCHebechut pticy v tishine.
Trubit v rozhok ohotnik gde-to.
I s zhavoronkom v vyshine
Pereklikat'sya lyubo mne.

No dnem sidet' za knizhkoj v shkole -
Kakaya radost' dlya rebyat?
Pod vzorom starshih, kak v nevole,
S utra usazhennye v ryad,
Bednyagi shkol'niki sidyat.

S travoj i pticami v razluke
Za chasom chas ya provozhu.
Uteh ni v chem ne nahozhu
Pod vethim kupolom nauki,
Gde kaplet dozhdik mertvoj skuki.

Poet li drozd, popavshij v seti,
Zabyv polety v vyshinu?
Kak mogut radovat'sya deti,
Vstrechaya vzaperti vesnu?
I niknut kryl'ya ih v plenu.

Otec i mat'! Kol' vetvi sada
Nenastnym dnem obnazheny
I shelestyashchego naryada
CHut' raspustivshejsya vesny
Dyhan'em buri lisheny, -

Pridut li dni tepla i sveta,
Taya v listve rumyanyj plod?
Kakuyu radost' dast nam leto?
Blagoslovim li zrelyj god.
Kogda zima opyat' dohnet?

Perevod S. YA. Marshaka

57. THE VOICE OF THE ANCIENT BARD

Youth of delight, come hither,
And see the opening morn,
Image of truth new-born.
Doubt is fled, and clouds of reason,
Dark disputes and artful teasing.
Folly is an endless maze,
Tangled roots perplex her ways.
How many have fallen there!
They stumble all night over bones of the dead,
And feel they know not what but care,
And wish to lead others, when they should be led.

57. GOLOS DREVNEGO BARDA

Pridite, molodye!
Uzhe zarya zazhglas',
I pravda rodilas'.
Skrylis' teni vekovye,
Mudrstvovaniya pustye.
Labirintom vyros bred.
Ot kornej prohodu net.
Mnogie spotknulis' tam,
Bluzhdaya po kostyam vo mrake do zari.
Pletutsya s gorem popolam,
Sebya vozhdyami mnyat, a im samim nuzhny
Povodyri.

Perevod V. B. Mikushevicha

FROM "THE ROSSETTI MANUSCRIPT"
(1789-1793)

x x x

58. Never seek to tell thy love,
Love that never told can be;
For the gentle wind does move
Silently, invisibly.

I told my love, I told my love,
I told her all my heart;
Trembling, cold, in ghastly tears,
Ah! she doth depart.

Soon as she was gone from me,
A traveller came by,
Silently, invisibly:
He took her with a sigh.

IZ "MANUSKRIPTA ROSSETTI"
(1789-1793)

x x x

58. Slovom vyskazat' nel'zya
Vsyu lyubov' k lyubimoj.
Veter dvizhetsya, skol'zya,
Tihij i nezrimyj.

YA skazal, ya vse skazal,
CHto v dushe tailos'.
Ah, lyubov' moya v slezah,
V strahe udalilas'.

A mgnovenie spustya
Putnik, shedshij mimo,
Tiho, vkradchivo, shutya
Zavladel lyubimoj.

Perevod S. YA. Marshaka

x x x

59. I saw a Chapel all of gold
That none did dare to enter in,
And many weeping stood without,
Weeping, mourning, worshipping.

I saw a Serpent rise between
The white pillars of the door,
And he forc'd and forc'd and forc'd;
Down the golden hinges tore,

And along the pavement sweet,
Set with pearls and rubies bright,
All his shining length he drew,
Till upon the altar white

Vomiting his poison out
On the Bread and on the Wine.
So I turn'd into a sty,
And laid me down among the swine.

x x x

59. Predstal mne Zlatoglavyj Hram -
I zapoveden byl Porog,
I tolpy orobelyh tam
Molilis' i valilis' s nog.

No vot u Vrat, mezh dvuh kolonn
Belejshih, pokazalsya Zmij -
Popolz, popolz, vpolzaya, On
Tuda, gde pravit' prizvan Syj.

Zlatye Stvory minovav,
Po perlovicam polovic
Vpolz, oslepitel'no krovav,
V Svyatyh Svyatuyu - i zavis

Nad mirom, i, razinuv Zev,
Istorg na Plot' i Krov' svoj YAd.
Togda ya vorotilsya v hlev
I zhit' reshil, gde svin'i spyat.

Perevod V. L. Toporova

x x x

60. I asked a thief to steal me a peach.
He turned up his eyes.
I ask'd a lithe lady to lie her down:
Holy and meek, she cries.

As soon as I went
An Angel came:
He wink'd at the thief,
And smil'd at the dame;

And without one word said
Had a peach from the tree,
And still as a maid
Enjoy'd the lady.

x x x

60. Vora prosil ya persik ukrast'.
Mne byl molchalivyj otkaz.
Strojnuyu damu prosil ya vozlech' -
No bryznuli slezy iz glaz.

Tut angel voru
Morgnul, a gibkoj
Ledi poklon
Otvesil s ulybkoj,

I ovladel,
Mezhdu shutkoj i delom,
Damoj podatlivoj,
Persikom spelym.

Perevod V. A. Potapovoj

x x x

61. I heard an Angel singing
When the day was springing:
'Mercy, Pity, Peace
Is the world's release.'

Thus he sang all day
Over the new-mown hay,
Till the sun went down,
And haycocks looked brown.

I heard a Devil curse
Over the heath and the furze:
'Mercy could be no more
If there was nobody poor,

'And Pity no more could be,
If all were as happy as we.'
At his curse the sun went down,
And the heavens gave a frown.

[Down pour'd the heavy rain
Over the new reap'd grain;
And Misery's increase
Is Mercy, Pity, Peace.]

x x x

61. YA slyshal angela pen'e,
A den' stoyal - zaglyaden'e:
"ZHalost', Soglas'e, Blagost'
Prevozmogut lyubuyu tyagost'!"

On pel, ispolnyaya svoj dolg,
Nad skoshennym senom - i smolk
Posle zakata, kogda
Buroj kazalas' skirda.

Nad drokom i vereskom, brat'ya,
YA d'yavola slyshal zaklyat'ya:
"Tolk o Blagosti vreden,
Kol' skoro nikto ne beden.

Kto schastliv, kak nashe soslov'e,
Tem ZHalost' - odno pustoslov'e!"
Ot zaklyat'ya solnce zashlo,
Nebes pomrachnelo chelo,

I liven' hlynul s neba
Na kopny szhatogo hleba.
Prishla nishcheta v odnochas'e,
S nej - Blagost', ZHalost', Soglas'e.

Perevod V. A. Potapovoj

62. A CRADLE SONG

Sleep! sleep! beauty bright,
Dreaming o'er the joys of night;
Sleep! sleep! in thy sleep
Little sorrows sit and weep.

Sweet Babe, in thy face
Soft desires I can trace,
Secret joys and secret smiles,
Little pretty infant wiles.

As thy softest limbs I feel,
Smiles as of the morning steal
O'er thy cheek, and o'er thy breast
Where thy little heart does rest.

O! the cunning wiles that creep
In thy little heart asleep.
When thy little heart does wake
Then the dreadful lightnings break,

From thy cheek and from thy eye,
O'er the youthful harvests nigh.
Infant wiles and infant smiles
Heaven and Earth of peace beguiles.

62. KOLYBELXNAYA

Son! son! povedi,
Gde svet vperedi!
Tam svet - v glubine,
I - gore na dne.

Spi, shozhij licom
S zabludshim otcom.
Spi, greshen, lukav.
Spi, syne, ustav.

Spi, nezhnyj i zloj.
Spi vmeste s Zemlej.
Son v mire bol'shom.
Son v serdce tvoem.

Uzh serdce polno
Vsego, chto temno.
Tak strashnyj rassvet
Roditsya na svet.

On bryznet iz glaz
V polozhennyj chas. -
Lukav i krovav. -
I - Nebo poprav.

Perevod V. L. Toporova

x x x

63. I fear'd the fury of my wind
Would blight all blossoms fair and true;
And my sun it shin'd and shin'd,
And my wind it never blew.

But a blossom fair or true
Was not found on any tree;
For all blossoms grew and grew
Fruitless, false, tho' fair to see.

x x x

63. Strashilsya ya: moj vihr' ub'et
Prekrasnyj i nevinnyj cvet.
No solnce s neba l'et i l'et
Potok luchej, a vetra net.

Kogda nastal cveten'ya chas,
Lish' pustocvet gustoj-gustoj
Vse ros da ros i teshil glaz
Besplodnoj, lzhivoj krasotoj.

Perevod V. A. Potapovoj

64. INFANT SORROW

My mother groan'd, my father wept;
Into the dangerous world I leapt,
Helpless, naked, piping loud,
Like a fiend hid in a cloud.

Struggling in my father's hands,
Striving against my swaddling-bands,
Bound and weary, I thought best
To sulk upon my mother's breast,

iii

When I saw that rage was vain,
And to sulk would nothing gain,
Turning many a trick and wile
I began to soothe and smile,

And I sooth'd day after day,
Till upon the ground I stray;
And I smil'd night after night,
Seeking only for delight,

And I saw before me shine
Clusters of the wand'ring vine;
And, beyond, a Myrtle-tree
Stretch'd its blossoms out to me.

But a Priest with holy look,
In his hands a holy book,
Pronounced curses on his head
Who the fruits or blossoms shed

vii

I beheld the Priest by night;
He embrac'd my Myrtle bright:
I beheld the Priest by day,
Where beneath my vines he lay.

viii

Like a serpent in the day
Underneath my vines he lay:
Like a serpent in the night
He embrac'd my Myrtle bright.

So I smote him, and his gore
Stain'd the roots my Myrtle bore;
But the time of youth is fled,
And grey hairs are on my head.

64. DITYA-GORE

Mat' v slezah. Otec vzbeshen.
Strashnyj mir so vseh storon.
Zatayus', nelep i nag,
Slovno d'yavol v pelenah.

To v rukah otcovskih hvatkih
YA zab'yus' v besovskih shvatkah,
To ugryumo vzor upru
V mir, chto mne ne po nutru.

No ponyav, chto grud' - suha,
YA zatih: toska - tiha.
No ponyav: toska bessil'na,
Ulybat'sya stal umil'no.

YA, zatihshi v zhalkoj zybke,
Razdaval svoi ulybki;
Sprygnul i poshel potom,
Naslazhdeniem vlekom.

I uvidel ya otradnye
Kushchi, grozd'ya vinogradnye,
Mne derev'ya i kusty
Sypali svoi cvety...

I togda otec moj skuchnyj,
Pyatiknizh'ya chtec poslushnyj,
Proklyal syna i svyazal,
K drevu mirta prikoval.

Perevod V. L. Toporova

x x x

65. Thou hast a lap full of seed,
And this is a fine country.
Why dost thou not cast thy seed,
And live in it merrily?

Shall I cast it on the sand
And turn it into fruitful land?
For on no other ground
Can I sow my seed,
Without tearing up
Some stinking weed.

x x x

65.- Zerna u tebya v podole,
Blagodaten etot kraj.
CHto zh ty ne zaseesh' pole
I ne snimesh' urozhaj?

- YA zaroyu ih v pesok besplodnyj.
Tam sozdam ya kraj svoj plodorodnyj.
Na drugoj zemle nel'zya
Seyat' mne, dokole
Ot zlovonnyh sornyakov
Ne ochishchu pole!

Perevod V. A. Potapovoj

66. IN A MIRTLE SHADE

Why should I be bound to thee,
O my lovely mirtle tree?
Love, free love, cannot be bound
To any tree that grows on ground.

O, how sick & weary I
Underneath my mirtle lie,
Like to dung upon the ground
Underneath my mirtle bound.

Oft my mirtle sign'd in vain
To behold my heavy chain;
Oft my father saw us sigh,
And laugh'd at our simplicity.

So I smote him & his gore
Stain'd the roots my mirtle bore.
But the time of youth is fled,
And grey hairs are on my head.

66. POD MIRTOVYM DREVOM

Drevo mirta, otchego ya
Svyazan uzami s toboyu?
Kak lyubvi - samoj svobode -
Na odnom cvesti ugod'e?

Gnet blazhenstvu ne soyuznik.
Ploho nam s toboj, souznik.
Kak navoz, lezhu v pyli
Na tvoem klochke zemli.

Drevo plakalo: protretsya
Cep', ya plakal: ne porvetsya.
A roditel' hohotal:
Vse pro nas i cep' on znal.

YA ubil otca, i korni,
Krov'yu politye, cherny.
Vyterpevshi stol'ko let -
Sam teper' i star i sed.

Perevod V. A. Potapovoj

67. TO NOBODADDY

Why art thou silent and invisible,
Father of Jealousy?
Why dost thou hide thyself in clouds
From every searching eye?

Why darkness and obscurity
In all thy words and laws,
That none dare eat the fruit but from
The wily Serpent's jaws?
Or is it because secrecy gains females' loud applause?

67. OTCU, NE PORODIVSHEMU SYNA

Zachem bezmolven ty, zachem
Nezrim, Revnivyj Otche?
Zachem tumannoj pelenoj
Pytaesh' nashi ochi?

Zachem ty gnevnoj t'moj ob®yal
Slova svoi svyatye,
I nest' dlya nas inyh plodov,
CHem te, chto v zeve Zmiya?

Odna l' povinna v etom
Strast' zhenskaya k sekretam?

Perevod V. L. Toporova

68. THE WILD FLOWER'S SONG

As I wander'd the forest,
The green leaves among,
I heard a Wild Flower
Singing a song.

'I slept in the earth
In the silent night,
I murmur'd my fears
And I felt delight.

'In the morning I went,
As rosy as morn,
To seek for new joy;
But I met with scorn.'

68. PESNYA DIKOGO CVETKA

Mezh list'ev zelenyh
Rannej vesnoj
Pel svoyu pesnyu
Cvetik lesnoj:

- Kak sladko ya spal
V temnote, v tishine,
O smutnyh trevogah
SHeptal v polusne.

Raskrylsya ya, svetel,
Pred samoyu zor'koj,
No svet menya vstretil
Obidoyu gor'koj.

Perevod S. YA. Marshaka

x x x

69. O lapwing! thou fliest around the heath,
Nor seest the net that is spread beneath.
Why dost thou not fly among the corn fields?
They cannot spread nets where a harvest yields.

x x x

69. O chibis! Ty vidish' vnizu pustopol'e.
Teneta razveshany tam na privol'e.
Ty mog by nad speyushchej nivoj nosit'sya:
Setej ne raskinut, gde hleb kolositsya!

Perevod V. A. Potapovoj

70. SOFT SNOW

I walked abroad on a snowy day:
I ask'd the soft Snow with me to play:
She play'd and she melted in all her prime;
And the Winter call'd it a dreadful crime.

70. MYAGKIJ SNEG

Brodil ya odnazhdy po zimnim tropinkam.
- So mnoj poigrajte! - skazal ya snezhinkam.
Igrali - i tayali... Ih poveden'yu
Zima uzhasalas', kak grehopaden'yu.

Perevod V. A. Potapovoj

71. MERLIN'S PROPHECY

The harvest shall flourish in wintry weather
When two Virginities meet together:
The king and the priest must be tied in a tether
Before two Virgins can meet together.

71. PROROCHESTVO MERLINA

Derev'ya zimoj zacvetut, vzojdut iz-pod snega posevy,
Kogda povstrechayutsya dve celomudrennyh devy.
No sperva korolya i popa strenozh'te verevkoj edinoj,
CHtoby vstretilas' deva nevinnaya s devoj nevinnoj.

Perevod V. A. Potapovoj

72. DAY

The sun arises in the East,
Cloth'd in robes of blood and gold;
Swords and spears and wrath increas'd
All around his bosom roll'd,
Crown'd with warlike fires and raging desires.

72. DENX

Voshodit solnce na vostoke.
Krov', zlato - vot ego naryad!
Vokrug vskipaet gnev zhestokij.
Mechi i kop'ya tam goryat.
Venec ego i znaki carskoj vlasti -
Ogni vojny, voinstvennye strasti.

Perevod V. A. Potapovoj

x x x

73. Why should I care for the men of Thames,
Or the cheating waves of charter'd streams;
Or shrink at the little blasts of fear
That the hireling blows into my ear?

Tho' born on the cheating banks of Thames,
Tho' his waters bathed my infant limbs,
The Ohio shall wash his stains from me:
I was born a slave, but I go to be free G

73. TEMZA I OGAJO

CHem obyazan ya vam, - esli s Temzy vy rodom, -
I kovarnym, otmechennym Hartiej, vodam?
Razve dolzhen teryat' ya prisutstvie duha
Ot vsego, chto vduvaet naushnik mne v uho?

Beregov etih lzhivyh ya byl urozhencem
I v beschestnyh volnah iskupalsya mladencem,
Smoj, Ogajo, s menya etu mutnuyu vodu!
YA rodilsya rabom, no poznayu svobodu.

Perevod V. A. Potapovoj

x x x

74. Abstinence sows sand all over
The ruddy limbs and flaming hair,
But Desire gratified
Plants fruits of life and beauty there.

x x x

74. Plamen' volos i rumyanuyu plot'
Peskom Vozderzhan'e zanosit.
Utolennyh zhelanij cvetushchaya vetv'
Na sypuchem peske plodonosit.

Perevod V. A. Potapovoj

x x x

75. If you trap the moment before it's ripe,
The tears of repentence you'll certainly wipe;
But if once you let the ripe moment go
You can never wipe off the tears of woe.

x x x

75. Shvativ za vihor prezhde vremeni sluchaj,
Zaplachesh' slezami raskayan'ya.
No, mig promorgav podhodyashchij, - ne muchaj
Sebya: net prichin dlya otchayan'ya.

Perevod V. A. Potapovoj

x x x

76. He who bends to himself a Joy
Doth the winged life destroy;
But he who kisses the Joy as it flies
Lives in Eternity's sunrise.

76. LETUCHAYA RADOSTX

Kto uderzhit radost' siloyu,
ZHizn' pogubit legkokryluyu.

Na letu celuj ee -
Utro vechnosti tvoe!

Perevod S. YA. Marshaka

77. RICHES

The countless gold of a merry heart,
The rubies and pearls of a loving eye,
The indolent never can bring to the mart,
Nor the secret hoard up in his treasury.

77. BOGATSTVO

Veselyh umov zolotye krupinki,
Rubiny i zhemchug serdec
Bezdel'nik ne sbudet s prilavka na rynke,
Ne spryachet v podvaly skupec.

Perevod S. YA Marshaka

78. AN ANSWER TO THE PARSON

Why of the sheep do you not learn peace?
Because I don't want you to shear my fleece.

78. RAZGOVOR DUHOVNOGO OTCA S PRIHOZHANINOM

- Moj syn, smireniyu uchites' u ovec!..
- Boyus', chto strich' menya vy budete, otec!

Perevod S. YA. Marshaka

x x x

79. Soft deceit & idleness
These are beauties sweetest dress.

x x x

79. Lenost' i obman blazhennyj -
Krasoty naryad bescennyj.

Perevod V. A. Potapovoj

x x x

80. "Let the Brothels of Paris be opened
With many an alluring dance
To awake the Pestilence thro' the city,"
Said the beautiful Queen of France.

The King awoke on his couch of gold,
As soon as he heard these tidings told:
"Arise & come, both fife & drum,
And the Famine shall eat both crust & crumb."

Then he swore a great & solemn Oath:
"To kill the people I am loth,
But if they rebel, they must go to hell:
They shall have a Priest & a passing bell."

Then old Nobodaddy aloft

Farted & belch'd & cough'd,

And said, "I love hanging & drawing & quartering
Every bit as well as war & slaughtering.
Damn praying & singing,
Unless they will bring in
The blood of ten thousand by fighting or swinging."

The Queen of France just touched this Globe,
And the Pestilence darted from her robe;
But our good Queen quite grows to the ground,
And a great many suckers grow all around.

Fayette beside King Lewis stood;
He saw him sign his hand;
And soon he saw the famine rage

About the fruitful land.

Fayette beheld the Queen to smile
And wink her lovely eye;
And soon he saw the pestilence
From street to street to fly.

Fayette beheld the King & Queen
In tears & iron bound;
But mute Fayette wept tear for tear,
And guarded them around.

Fayette, Fayette, thou'rt bought & sold,
And sold is thy happy morrow;
Thou gavest the tears of Pity away
In exchange for the tears of sorrow.

Who will exchange his own fire side
For the steps of another's door?
Who will exchange his wheaten loaf
For the links of a dungeon floor?

O, who would smile on the wintry seas,
& Pity the stormy roar?
Or who will exchange his new born child
For the dog at the wintry door?

x x x

80. "Dveri nastezh', parizhskie bordeli!
Pust' zaraza po gorodu letit,
S golyt'boyu obvenchana sud'boyu", -
Koroleva Francii velit.

Korol' so zlatogo lozha sletel,
To uslyhav, chego znat' ne hotel:
"Vstavaj, narod, truba zovet,
Ne to vse do kroshki Golod sozhret!"

I vot Korol' dal velikij obet:
"Priyazni v krovavyh kaznyah net,
No buntovshchikam ya voli ne dam -
Na plahu polyagut ko vsem chertyam!"

I vot Ne Porodivshij Syna otec
S®el, rygnul i raskashlyalsya pod konec:
"Obozhayu vojny, povesheniya, chetvertovaniya,
Smakuyu kazhdyj kusok stradaniya.
Nabili oskominu blagodarstvennye zavyvaniya,
Predpochitayu vyslushivat' ponosheniya
I vykushivat' mnogotysyachnye zhertvoprinosheniya!"

SHar Zemnoj Antuanetta vzyala, -
Zaraza iz plat'ya ee plyla.
K zemle klonilas' nasha dobraya Koroleva -
Lizoblyudami otyagoshchennoe drevo.

Uvidel vernyj Lafajet
ZHest vlastnyj Korolya -
I golod Franciyu ob®yal,
I vymerli polya.

Uslyshal vernyj Lafajet
Antuanetty smeh -
Zaraza vspyhnula v strane,
Zatronuv vsya i vseh.

Uvidel vernyj Lafajet
V cepyah siyu CHetu -
I s tihim plachem stal ne Palach im,
A Storozh na postu.

Ty byl menyaloj, Lafajet,
No baryshi propali:
Ty sostradaniya slezu
Promenyal na slezy pechali.

Kto promenyaet svoj ochag
Na chernyj chuzhoj porog?
Kto promenyaet pshenichnyj hleb
Na tyuremnyj zamok?

Kto zh pozhaleet uragan
I livnevyj potok?
Kto zh promenyaet svoe ditya
Na psa, chto v puti promok?

Perevod V. L. Toporova

(1800-1803)

x x x

81. My Spectre around me night and day
Like a wild beast guards my way;
My Emanation far within
Weeps incessantly for my sin.

'A fathomless and boundless deep,
There we wander, there we weep;
On the hungry craving wind
My Spectre follows thee behind.

iii

'He scents thy footsteps in the snow,
Wheresoever thou dost go,
Thro' the wintry hail and rain.
When wilt thou return again?

'Dost thou not in pride and scorn
Fill with tempests all my morn,
And with jealousies and fears
Fill my pleasant nights with tears?

'Seven of my sweet loves thy knife
Has bereaved of their life.
Their marble tombs I built with tears,
And with cold and shuddering fears.

'Seven more loves weep night and day
Round the tombs where my loves lay,
And seven more loves attend each night
Around my couch with torches bright.

vii

'And seven more loves in my bed
Crown with wine my mournful head,
Pitying and forgiving all
Thy transgressions great and small.

viii

'When wilt thou return and view
My loves, and them to life renew?
When wilt thou return and live?
When wilt thou pity as I forgive?'

['O'er my sins thou sit and moan:
Hast thou no sins of thy own?
O'er my sins thou sit and weep,
And lull thy own sins fast asleep.]

['What transgressions I commit
Are for thy transgressions fit.
They thy harlots, thou their slave;
And my bed becomes their grave.]

'Never, never, I return:
Still for victory I burn.
Living, thee alone I'll have;
And when dead I'll be thy grave.

'Thro' the Heaven and Earth and Hell
Thou shalt never, never quell:
I will fly and thou pursue:
Night and morn the flight renew.'

['Poor, pale, pitiable form
That I follow in a storm;
Iron tears and groans of lead
Bind around my aching head.]

'Till I turn from Female love
And root up the Infernal Grove,
I shall never worthy be
To step into Eternity.

xii

'And, to end thy cruel mocks,
Annihilate thee on the rocks,
And another form create
To be subservient to my fate.

xiii

'Let us agree to give up love,
And root up the Infernal Grove;
Then shall we return and see
The worlds of happy Eternity.

xiv

'And throughout all Eternity
I forgive you, you forgive me.
As our dear Redeemer said:
"This the Wine, and this the Bread."'

(1800-1803)

81. SPEKTR I |MANACIYA

Moj Spektr oprich' menya kruzhit,
Kak hishchnik, zhertvu storozhit,
A |manaciya moya,
Rydaya, brosila menya.

"Vo mrake bezdny bezyshodnoj,
Svershaya greh nepervorodnyj,
Bluzhdaem i rydaem my -
Tebya moj Spektr zhdet v carstve t'my.

Tvoj sled - kuda ty ni poshla by,
CHerez ushchel'ya i uhaby, -
Otyshchet on, skvoz' grad i sneg.
Kogda zh vernesh'sya ty navek?

Ne ta li ty, chto gnev s prezren'em
Vozdvigla nad moim smiren'em,
Ne ta li, chto sozhgla slezmi
Moi igralishcha s lyud'mi?

Ne ty li sem' moih lyubovej
Pohoronila v more krovi?
Ne ty l' velish', chtob ya zabyl
Sem' prisnopamyatnyh mogil?

Eshche sem' raz lyubil ya, znaya,
CHto zhdet lyubov' zemlya syraya,
I sem' drugih v polnochnom sne
Skol'znuli s fakelom ko mne.

I sem' s velikoyu dushoyu,
Naivozlyublennejshih mnoyu,
Lozoj uvili mne chelo,
Ne stavya Zlo tvoe vo zlo.

Kogda zh vernesh'sya ty, chtob vseh
Ih voskresit', izbyv svoj greh?
Kogda zh vernesh'sya ty, menya -
Kak ya proshchayu - ne kaznya?"

("Moi grehi tebe meshayut,
A sobstvennye - ne smushchayut?
K moim - prezren'e bespredel'noe,
Svoim - poesh' ty kolybel'nuyu".)

("CHto za greh, chto mnoj svershen,
Toboyu ne predvoshishchen?
SHlyuh ty shlesh' mne na podmenu -
Znaesh' sobstvennuyu cenu".)

"Ne vernus' ya, ibo penej
Dolzhen byt' triumf - ne mene!
Kol' tebya perezhivu -
Budet povod k torzhestvu!

Nebo, Zemlyu i Geennu
Ne ob®yat' tebe, smyatennyj.
Polechu kuda smelej
Provozvestnicej tvoej!"

("Bednyj, zhalkij, bespomoshchnyj
Sputnik moj vo t'me polnochnoj,
Za tebya ya, kak v okovah,
Vsya v slezah svoih svincovyh".)

"Tshchetno k vechnosti vzyvayu
YA, poka ne polomayu
Adskij les suhoj hvoi, -
Puty zhenskie tvoi.

YA raspnu tebya na skalah,
CHtob ne zret' v tvoih oskalah
Zla, ni zhalosti k sebe,
Ni prezreniya k sud'be.

Ili ya sozdam drugoe
Nechto, shodnoe s toboyu,
Adskij les suhoj hvoi -
Il' vstupi na put' Lyubvi.

I, otrinuv besserdechnost',
Obretem v soglas'e Vechnost' -
Ved' Spasitelem dana
Mera Hleba i Vina".

Perevod V. L. Toporova

x x x

82. When Klopstock England defied,
Uprose William Blake in his pride;
For old Nobodaddy aloft
...and belch'd and cough'd;
Then swore a great oath that made Heaven quake,
And call'd aloud to English Blake.
Blake was giving his body ease,
At Lambeth beneath the poplar trees.
From his seat then started he
And turn'd him round three times three.
The moon at that sight blush'd scarlet red,
The stars threw down their cups and fled,
And all the devils that were in hell,
Answered with a ninefold yell.
Klopstock felt the intripled turn,
And all his bowels began to churn,
And his bowels turn'd round three times three,
And lock'd in his soul with a ninefold key;...
Then again old Nobodaddy swore
He ne'er had seen such a thing before,
Since Noah was shut in the ark,
Since Eve first chose her hellfire spark,
Since 'twas the fashion to go naked,
Since the old Anything was created...

x x x

82. Klopshtok Angliyu hulil kak hotel,
No tut kak raz Vil'yam Blejk podospel;
Ibo Ne Porodivshij Syna otec
...rygnul i raskashlyalsya pod konec;
Svyashchennaya zatrepetala semejka
Ot zaklyat'ya, razbudivshego Britanskogo Blejka.
Vil'yam Blejk vossedal orlom
V okrestnostyah Londona, pod topol'kom.
Ne usidev na nasizhennom meste -
Kucha ostalas' na etom meste, -
Trizhdy on obernulsya na meste,
CHto bylo nachalom svyashchennoj mesti.
Krov'yu nalilas' pri vide etogo Luna,
Zvezdy povalilis'; kak hvativ vina,
I devyatikratnoj ploshchadnoyu bran'yu
Otozvalos' chertej Kromeshnoe Sobran'e.
Klopshtok, v otvet na troekratnyj povorot,
Trizhdy s vizgom shvatilsya za zhivot,
Trizhdy v ego zhivote perevernulis' vse kishki,
I devyat' raz podryad dusha ego vstala na dybki...
Togda Ne Porodivshij Syna otec
Poklyalsya, chto ne vstrechalsya emu podobnyj igrec
S teh por, kak Noj smasteril svoj kovcheg,
S teh por, kak Eva vkusila zapretnyh neg,
S teh por, kak on t'mu otdelil ot sveta,
S teh por, kak sodeyat' zamyslil eto...
Voschuvstvovav tak, on menya prosil,
CHtob muku Klopshtokovu ya smyagchil...
Tako Blejk pobedil, oblegchayas',
A uzh v stihah pobedit, ruchayus'!

Perevod V. L. Toporova

x x x

83. Mock on, mock on, Voltaire, Rousseau:
Mock on, mock on; tis all in vain!
You throw the sand against the wind,
And the wind blows it back again.

And every sand becomes a gem
Reflected in the beams divine;
Blown back they blind the mocking eye,
But still in Israel's paths they shine.

The Atoms of Democritus
And Newton's Particles of Light
Are sands upon the Red Sea shore,
Where Israel's tents do shine so bright.

x x x

83. ZHivej, Vol'ter! Smelej, Russo!
Bushuj, bumazhnaya groza!
Vernetsya po vetru pesok,
CHto nam shvyryaete v glaza.

Peschinka kazhdaya - almaz,
Kogda v nej bleshchet luch nebes...
Nasmeshniki! dlya vashih glaz
Nest' v nashej Biblii chudes!

Pridumal atom Demokrit,
N'yuton raz®yal na chasti svet...
Peschanyj smerch Nauki spit,
Kogda my slushaem Zavet.

Perevod V. L. Toporova

x x x

84. When a man has married a wife, he finds out whether
Her knees and elbows are only glued together.

x x x

84. Poka ne zhenimsya, skazat' my ne sumeem,
Ne skleeny li u zheny koleni kleem.

Perevod S. YA. Marshaka

85. ON THE VIRGINITY OF THE VIRGIN MARY AND JOHANNA SOUTHCOTT

Whate'er is done to her she cannot know,
And if you'll ask her she will swear it so.
Whether 'tis good or evil none's to blame:
No one can take the pride, no one the shame.

85. O DEVSTVENNOSTI DEVY MARII I DZHOANNY SAUSKOTT

Sodeyali s neyu dobro ili zlo?
Ne znaet sama; bezmyatezhno chelo.
I nekomu eto postavit' v ukor:
Nich'ya tut zasluga, nichej tut pozor.

Perevod V. A. Potapovoj

86. MORNING

To find the Western path,
Right thro' the Gates of Wrath
I urge my way;
Sweet Mercy leads me on
With soft repentant moan:
I see the break of day.

The war of swords and spears,
Melted by dewy tears,
Exhales on high;
The Sun is freed from fears,
And with soft grateful tears
Ascends the sky.

86.

Ishcha tropinki na Zakat,
Prostranstvom tesnym Gnevnyh Vrat
YA bodro prohozhu.
I zhalost' krotkaya menya
Vedet, v raskayan'e stenya.
YA problesk dnya slezhu.

Mechej i kopij gasnet boj
Rassvetnoj ranneyu poroj,
Zalit slezami, kak rosoj.
I solnce, v radostnyh slezah,
Preodolev svoj tyazhkij strah,
Siyaet yarko v nebesah.

Perevod S. YA. Marshaka

x x x

87. 'Now Art has lost its mental charms
France shall subdue the world in arms.'
So spoke an Angel at my birth;
Then said 'Descend thou upon earth;
Renew the Arts on Britain's shore,
And France shall fall down and adore.
With works of art their armies meet
And War shall sink beneath thy feet.
But if thy nation Arts refuse,
And if they scorn the immortal Muse,
France shall the arts of peace restore
And save thee from the ungrateful shore.'

Spirit who lov'st Britannia's Isle
Round which the fiends of commerce smile -

x x x

87. Utratilo iskusstvo svoj
Plenitel'nyj duhovnyj stroj,
Teper' im zapravlyaet Gall, -
Tak dobryj angel mne skazal. -
No ty, prodolzhil on, rozhden
Vernut' iskusstvo v Al'bion.
Pojdut iskusstva rat' na rat' -
I gall'skomu - ne ustoyat'.
No esli Francii otdash'
Pobedu - to iskusstv shabash
Ohvatit celyj materik,
I tam sochtut, chto ty velik...

Moj duh, nadezhda Al'biona,
Zaulybalsya chut' smushchenno...

Perevod V. L. Toporova

(1808-1811)

88. TO F [LAXMAN]

I mock thee not, though I by thee am mocked;
Thou call'st me madman, but I call thee blockhead.

(1808-1811)

88. MOEMU HULITELYU

Pust' obo mne ty raspuskaesh' lozh',
YA nad toboyu ne glumlyus' tajkom.
Pust' sumasshedshim ty menya zovesh',
Tebya zovu ya tol'ko durakom.

Perevod S. YA. Marshaka

x x x

89. Here lies John Trot, the friend of all mankind:
He has not left one enemy behind.
Friends were quite hard to find, old authors say;
But now they stand in everybody's way.

x x x

89. Ni odnogo vraga vseobshchij drug, Dzhon Trot,
Ostavit' ne sumel u Vechnosti Vorot.
"Drug - redkost'!" - myslili tak drevnie v trevoge.
Teper' druz'ya stoyat vsem poperek dorogi.

Perevod V. A. Potapovoj

x x x

90. I was buried near this dyke,
That my friends may weep as much as they like.

90. |PITAFIYA

YA pogreben u gorodskoj kanavy vodostochnoj,
CHtob slezy lit' mogli druz'ya i dnem i ezhenoshchno.

Perevod S. YA. Marshaka

x x x

91. My title as a genius thus is prov'd:
Not prais'd by Hayley, nor by Flaxman lov'd.

x x x

91. Teper' poprobujte skazat', chto ya ne genialen:
Fleksmanom ya ne lyubim, Hejli - ne zahvalen.

Perevod V. A. Potapovoj

x x x

92. Grown old in Love from Seven till Seven times Seven
I oft have wish'd for Hell, for Ease from Heaven.

x x x

92. Vsyu zhizn' lyubov'yu plamennoj sgoraya,
Mechtal ya v ad popast', chtob otdohnut' ot raya.

Perevod S. YA. Marshaka

x x x

93. All pictures that's panted with sense and with thought
Are panted by madmen, as sure as a groat;
For the greater the fool is the pencil more blest,
As when they are drunk they always pant best.
They never can Raphael it, Fuseli it, nor Blake it;
If they can't see an outline, pray how can they make it?
When men will draw outlines begin you to jaw them;
Madmen see outlines and therefore they draw them.

x x x

93. CHuvstva i mysli v kartine nashedshij
Smeknet, chto ee napisal sumasshedshij.
CHem bol'she durak - tem ostree nait'e.
Blazhen karandash, esli duren' - v podpit'e.
Kto kontur ne vidit - ne mozhet ego risovat',
Ni rafaelit', ni fyuzelit', ni blejkovat'.
Za konturnyj metod vy rady hudozhnika s®est',
No kontury vidit bezumec i pishet kak est'.

Perevod V. A. Potapovoj

x x x

94. Why was Cupid a boy,
And why a boy was he?
He should have been a girl,
For aught that I can see.

For he shoots with his bow,
And the girl shoots with her eye,
And they both are merry and glad,
And laugh when we do cry.

And to make Cupid a boy
Was the Cupid girl's mocking plan;
For a boy can't interpret the thing
Till he is become a man.

And then he's so pierc'd with cares,
And wounded with arrowy smarts,
That the whole business of his life
Is to pick out the heads of the darts.

'Twas the Greeks' love of war
Turn'd Love into a boy,
And woman into a statue of stone -
And away fled every joy.

94. KUPIDON

Zachem ty sozdan, Kupidon
S mal'chisheskoyu stat'yu?
Tebe by devochkoyu byt',
Po moemu ponyat'yu!

Ty porazhaesh' cel' streloj,
A devochka - glazami,
I oba schastlivy, kogda
Zal'emsya my slezami.

V zatee - mal'chikom tebya
Sozdat', uznal ya zhenshchin ruku:
Lish' vozmuzhav, postignesh' ty
Glumlen'ya slozhnuyu nauku.

No do teh por - neschetnyh strel
V tebya vop'yutsya zhal'ca,
A ih vydergivat' iz ran
Vsyu zhizn' - udel stradal'ca.

Lyubvi pridav muzhskuyu stat',
Iz kamnya zhenskij pol vayat'
Vojnolyubivyj vzdumal grek -
I radost' uneslo navek.

Perevod V. A. Potapovoj

x x x

95. I asked my dear friend Orator Prig:
'What's the first part of oratory?' He said: 'A great wig.'
'And what is the second?' Then, dancing a jig
And bowing profoundly, he said: 'A great wig.'
'And what is the third?' Then he snored like a pig,
And, puffing his cheeks out, replied: 'A great wig.'
So if a great panter with questions you push,
'What's the first part of panting?' he'll say 'A pant-brush.'
'And what is the second?' with most modest blush,
He'll smile like a cherub, and say: 'A pant-brush.'
'And what is the third?' he'll bow like a rush,
With a leer in his eye, he'll reply: 'A pant-brush.'
Perhaps this is all a panter can want:
But, look yonder-that house is this house of Rembrandt!

x x x

95. - CHto oratoru nuzhno? Horoshij yazyk?
- Net, - otvetil orator. - Horoshij parik!
- A eshche? - Ne smutilsya pochtennyj starik
I otvetil: - Opyat' zhe horoshij parik.
- A eshche? - On zadumalsya tol'ko na mig
I voskliknul: - Konechno, horoshij parik!

- CHto, maestro, vazhnee vsego v portretiste?
On otvetil: - Osobye kachestva kisti.
- A eshche? - On, palitru staratel'no chistya,
Povtoril: - Razumeetsya, kachestvo kisti.
- A eshche? - Stanovyas' ponemnogu rechistej,
On voskliknul: - Vysokoe kachestvo kisti!

Perevod S. YA. Marshaka

x x x

96. Having given great offence by writing in prose,
I'll write in verse as soft as Bartoloze.
Some blush at what others can see no crime in;
But nobody sees any harm in riming.
Dryden, in rime, cries 'Milton only plann'd':
Every fool shook his bells throughout the land.
Tom Cooke cut Hogarth down with his clean graving:
Thousands of connoisseurs with joy ran raving.
Thus, Hayley on his toilette seeing the soap,
Cries, 'Homer is very much improv'd by Pope.'
Some say I've given great provision to my foes,
And that now I lead my false friends by the nose.
Flaxman and Stothard, smelling a.sweet savour,
Cry 'Blakified drawing spoils painter and engraver';
While I, looking up to my umbrella,
Resolv'd to be a very contrary fellow,
Cry, looking quite from skumference to centre:
'No one can finish so high as the original Inventor.'
Thus poor Schiavonetti died of the Cromek-
A thing that's tied around the Examiner's neck!
This is my sweet apology to my friends,
That I may put them in mind of their latter ends.
If men will act like a maid smiling over a churn,
They ought not, when it comes to another's turn,
To grow sour at what a friend may utter,
Knowing and feeling that we all have need of butter.
False friends, fie! fie! Our friendship you shan't sever;
In spite we will be greater friends than ever.

96. BLEJK V ZASHCHITU SVOEGO KATALOGA

Poskol'ku ot prozy moej ostalis' u mnogih zanozy,
Gravyur Bartolocci nezhnej, stihi napishu vmesto prozy.
Inoj bez prichin zalivaetsya kraskoj styda.
Odnako nikto v rifmopletstve ne vidit vreda.
"Mil'tonom sozdan lish' plan!" - Drajden
v stihah vosklicaet,
I vsyakij durackij kolpak bubencami ob etom bryacaet.
Hogarta Kuk obkornal chisten'kim gravirovan'icem.
S revom begut znatoki, voshishchayas' ego darovan'icem.
Hejli, na mylo vziraya, hvatil cherez meru:
"Pop, - zakrichal on, - pridal sovershenstva Gomeru!"
Za nos fal'shivyh druzej vozhu, govoryat, ya neploho
I opolchit'sya uspel, ot vragov ozhidaya podvoha.
Fleksman so Stothardom pryanost' uchuyali nyuhom:
"Beda, kol' graver i hudozhnik proniknutsya
blejkovskim duhom!"
No ya, nepokladistyj malyj, na sobstvennyj zont
Bespechno smotryu snizu vverh i gotov na afront.
V tochku, gde shodyatsya spicy, ustaviv glyadelki,
Krichu ya: "Lish' avtor sposoben dostich'
blagorodstva otdelki!"
ZHertva kromekov, - neschastnyj pogib Sk'yavonetti:
Petlya na sheyu - my skazhem ob etom predmete!
Proshu u druzej izvinen'ya - zachem naobum
YA mysl' o gryadushchej konchine privel im na um?
Kak devushka, nad maslobojkoj stan sklonivshaya gibkij,
Mutovku drugim ustupaya, s lica ne stirajte ulybki,
Ne skisajte ot slova druga, esli ono ne hvalebno,
Ne zabyvajte, chto maslo lyubomu iz nas potrebno!
Lozhnym druz'yam v dosadu, naperekor ih fal'shi,
Istinnoj druzhby uzy krepnut' budut i dal'she!

Perevod V. A. Potapovoj

x x x

97. Some people admire the work of a fool,
For it's sure to keep your judgement cool;
It does not reproach you with want of wit;
It is not like a lawyer serving a writ.

x x x

97. Tvoren'e duraka po vkusu mnogim lyudyam.
O nem navernyaka my bez volnen'ya sudim.
Nas v tuposti ono ne upreknet; v otmestku,
Kak stryapchij, - ne prishlet sudebnuyu povestku.

Perevod V. A. Potapovoj

x x x

98. Since all the riches of this world
May be gifts from the Devil and earthly kings,
I should suspect that I worshipp'd the Devil
If I thank'd my God for worldly things.

98. O BLAGODARNOSTI

Ot d'yavola i ot carej zemnyh
My poluchaem znatnost' i bogatstvo.
I nebesa blagodarit' za nih,
Po moemu suzhden'yu, - svyatotatstvo.

Perevod S. YA. Marshaka

x x x

99. I rose up at the dawn of day -
'Get thee away! get thee away!
Pray'st thou for riches? Away! away!
This is the Throne of Mammon grey.'

Said I: This, sure, is very odd;
I took it to be the Throne of God.
For everything besides I have:
It is only for riches that I can crave.

I have mental joy, and mental health,
And mental friends, and mental wealth;
I've a wife I love, and that loves me;
I've all but riches bodily.

I am in God's presence night and day,
And He never turns His face away;
The accuser of sins by my side doth stand,
And he holds my money-bag in his hand.

For my worldly things God makes him pay,
And he'd pay for more if to him I would pray;
And so you may do the worst you can do;
Be assur'd, Mr. Devil, I won't pray to you.

Then if for riches I must not pray,
God knows, I little of prayers need say;
So, as a church is known by its steeple,
If I pray it must be for other people.

He says, if I do not worship him for a God,
I shall eat coarser food, and go worse shod;
So, as I don't value such things as these,
You must do, Mr. Devil, just as God please.

x x x

99. YA vstal, kogda redela noch'.
- Podi ty proch'! Podi ty proch'!
O chem ty molish'sya, poklony
Kladya pred kapishchem Mamony?

YA byl nemalo udivlen -
YA dumal, - eto bozhij tron.
Vsego hvataet mne, no malo
V karmane zvonkogo metalla.

Est' u menya bogatstvo dum,
Vostorgi duha, zdravyj um,
ZHena lyubimaya so mnoyu.
No beden ya kaznoj zemnoyu.

YA pered bogom den' i noch'.
S menya on glaz ne svodit proch'.
No d'yavol tozhe neotluchen:
Moj koshelek emu poruchen.

On moj nevol'nyj kaznachej.
YA el by pishchu bogachej,
Kogda by stal emu molit'sya.
YA ne hochu, a d'yavol zlitsya.

Itak, ne byt' mne bogachom.
K chemu zh molit'sya i o chem?
ZHelanij u menya nemnogo,
I za drugih molyu ya boga.

Puskaj daet mne zlobnyj chert
Odezhdy, pishchi hudshij sort, -
Mne i v nuzhde zhivetsya slavno...
I vse zhe, chert, sluzhi ispravno!

Perevod S. YA. Marshaka

THE PICKERING MANUSCRIPT
(1800-1803)

100. THE SMILE

There is a smile of love,
And there is a smile of deceit,
And there is a smile of smiles
In which these two smiles meet.

And there is a frown of hate,
And there is a frown of disdain,
And there is a frown of frowns
Which you strive to forget in vain,

For it sticks in the heart's deep core
And it sticks in the deep backbone -
And no smile that ever was smil'd,
But only one smile alone,

That betwixt the cradle and grave
It only once smil'd can be;
And, when it once is smil'd,
There's an end to all misery.

MANUSKRIPT PIKERINGA
(1800-1803)

100. ULYBKA

Est' Ulybka Lyubvi,
Est' Ulybka pritvornoj Lichiny,
Est' Ulybka Ulybok -
V nej obe Ulybki ediny.

Est' Uhmylka Vrazhdy,
Est' Uhmylka Prezren'ya,
Est' Uhmylka Uhmylok,
Ot kotoroj ne znayut zabven'ya,

Ibo v strup'yah dusha ot nee
I nutro v neschislimyh uvech'yah;
No edinoj Velikoj Ulybke
Suzhdeno na ustah chelovech'ih

Edinozhdy vspyhnut' v puti
Ot Kolybeli do Groba;
No dostatochno ej rascvesti --
I vpadaet v nichtozhestvo Zloba.

Perevod A. V. Parina

101. THE GOLDEN NET

Three Virgins at the break of day: -
'Whither, young man, whither away?
Alas for woe! alas for woe!'
They cry, and tears for ever flow.
The one was cloth'd in flames of fire,
The other cloth'd in iron wire,
The other cloth'd in tears and sighs
Dazzling bright before my eyes.
They bore a Net of golden twine
To hang upon the branches fine.
Pitying I wept to see the woe
That Love and Beauty undergo,
To be consum'd in burning fires
And in ungratified desires,
And in tears cloth'd night and day
Melted all my soul away.
When they saw my tears, a smile
That did Heaven itself beguile,
Bore the Golden Net aloft,
As on downy pinions soft,
Over the Morning of my day.
Underneath the net I stray,
Now entreating Burning Fire
Now entreating Iron Wire,
Now entreating Tears and Sighs -
O! when will the morning rise?

101. ZLATAYA SETX

Tri devy v predrassvetnyj chas:
"Kuda ty, yunosha, ot nas?
O gore, gore!" Iz ochej
U kazhdoj hlynul slez ruchej.
Odna - ognem odela stan,
Drugoj - naryad zheleznyj dan.
Na tret'ej - polnoe siyan'ya,
Iz slez i vzdohov odeyan'e.
I set' iz pryazhi zolotoj
Nesut, rydaya, v les gustoj.
Zaplakav s nimi, ya uzrel
Lyubvi i Krasoty udel:
Oni dvojnym ognem palimy.
ZHelan'ya ih neutolimy.
Do slez ya zhazhdal im pomoch', -
Odetym v slezy den' i noch'.
Tut vyzval ya u nih ulybku,
CHto nebesa vvela b v oshibku, -
Ulybku, chto zlatuyu set'
Zastavila, kak puh, vzletet'
I zahlestnut' nachalo dnej
Moih, chtob ya bluzhdal pod nej.
Vzyvayu k YAromu Ognyu,
Molyu ZHeleznuyu Bronyu,
Slezam i Vzdoham govoryu:
- Kogda uvizhu ya zaryu?

Perevod V. L. Potapovoj

102. THE MENTAL TRAVELLER

I travell'd thro' a land of men,
A land of men and women too;
And heard and saw such dreadful things
As cold earth-wanderers never knew.

For there the Babe is born in joy
That was begotten in dire woe;
Just as we reap in joy the fruit
Which we in bitter tears did sow.

And if the Babe is born a boy
He's given to a Woman Old,
Who nails him down upon a rock,
Catches his shrieks in cups of gold.

She binds iron thorns around his head,
She pierces both his hands and feet,
She cuts his heart out at his side,
To make it feel both cold and heat.

Her fingers number every nerve,
Just as a miser counts his gold;
She lives upon his shrieks and cries,
And she grows young as he grows old.

Till he becomes a bleeding Youth,
And she becomes a Virgin bright;
Then he rends up his manacles,
And binds her down for his delight.

He plants himself in all her nerves,
Just as a husbandman his mould;
And she becomes his dwelling-place
And garden fruitful seventyfold.

An aged Shadow, soon he fades,
Wandering round an earthly cot,
Full filled all with gems and gold
Which he by industry had got.

And these are the gems of the human soul,
The rubies and pearls of a love-sick eye,
The countless gold of the aching heart,
The martyr's groan and the lover's sigh.

They are his meat, they are his drink;
He feeds the beggar and the poor
And the wayfaring traveller:
For ever open is his door.

His grief is their eternal joy;
They make the roofs and walls to ring;
Till from the fire on the hearth
A little Female Babe does spring.

And she is all of solid fire
And gems and gold, that none his hand
Dares stretch to touch her baby form,
Or wrap her in his swaddling-band.

But she comes to the man she loves,
If young or old, or rich or poor;
They soon drive out the Aged Host,
A beggar at another's door.

He wanders weeping far away,
Until some other take him in;
Oft blind and age-bent, sore distrest,
Until he can a Maiden win.

And to allay his freezing age,
The poor man takes her in his arms;
The cottage fades before his sight,
The garden and its lovely charms.

The guests are scatter'd thro' the land,
For the eye altering alters all;
The senses roll themselves in fear,
And the flat earth becomes a ball;

The stars, sun, moon, all shrink away,
A desert vast without a bound,
And nothing left to eat or drink,
And a dark desert all around.

The honey of her infant lips,
The bread and wine of her sweet smile,
The wild game of her roving eye,
Does him to infancy beguile;

For as he eats and drinks he grows
Younger and younger every day;
And on the desert wild they both
Wander in terror and dismay.

Like the wild stag she flees away,
Her fear plants many a thicket wild;
While he pursues her night and day,
By various arts of love beguil'd;

By various arts of love and hate,
Till the wide desert planted o'er
With labyrinths of wayward love,
Where roam the lion, wolf, and boar.

Till he becomes a wayward Babe,
And she a weeping Woman Old.
Then many a lover wanders here;
The sun and stars are nearer roll'd;

The trees bring forth sweet ecstasy
To all who in the desert roam;
Till many a city there is built,
And many a pleasant shepherd's home.

But when they find the Frowning Babe,
Terror strikes thro' the region wide:
They cry 'The Babe! the Babe is born!'
And flee away on every side.

For who dare touch the Frowning Form,
His arm is wither'd to its root;
Lions, boars, wolves, all howling flee,
And every tree does shed its fruit.

And none can touch that Frowning Form,
Except it be a Woman Old;
She nails him down upon the rock,
And all is done as I have told.

102. STRANSTVIE

YA stranstvoval v Strane Lyudej,
YA byl v Strane Muzhej i ZHen -
I lyutyj strah zastyl v glazah,
V ushah ostalsya s teh vremen.

Tam tyazhkij trud - Zachat' Ditya,
Zabava Prazdnaya - Rozhat';
Tak nam legko sbirat' plody,
No tyazhko seyat' i sazhat'.

Ditya zhe, esli eto Syn,
Staruhe Dryahloj otdayut,
I ta, raspyav ego gvozdem,
Sbiraet krik v zlatoj sosud.

YAzvit ternovnikom CHelo,
Pronzaet Nogu i Ladon',
I Serdce, grud' emu raz®yav,
Kidaet v prorub' i v ogon'.

"Tut bol'no? - ishchet. - Tut? a tut?"
V nahodke kazhdoj - torzhestvo.
Rastet on v mukah, a ona
Lish' molodeet ottogo.

I vot on - stroen i krovav.
I deva s uzhasom v glazah.
I, puty sbrosiv, on ee
Beret - vsyu v putah i v slezah.

"Tut bol'no? - ishchet. - Tut? a tut?"
Vedet, kak plugom, borozdu;
On obitaet v nej teper',
Kak v neskonchaemom sadu.

No vyanet vskorosti i on,
V svoem zhilishche, kak slepoj,
Kradyas' mezh Bleshchushchih Bogatstv,
CHto zahvatil za Den' Zemnoj.

Ego bogatstva - zhemchug slez,
Rubiny vospalennyh glaz,
I zlato raskalennyh dum,
I strast', i pros'ba, i prikaz.

On - eto el, on - eto pil;
Teper' on kormit i poit
I perehozhih, i bol'nyh -
Otnyne dom ego otkryt.

K nemu prihodyat - poglazet',
On stal posmeshishchem dlya vseh;
Mladenec-Deva iz ognya
Dolzhna vosstat', chtob smolknul smeh.

I vosstaet iz ochaga -
Zlataya, ognennaya stat', -
Ne podymaetsya ruka
Dotronut'sya i spelenat'.

A Deva ishchet ne ego -
Bogat il' beden, yun il' star
Ee izbrannik, - no emu
Dom starca prepodnosit v dar.

Ograblennyj, uhodit von.
Ishcha strannopriimnyj dom,
Gde vyjdet Deva iz ognya
I slyubitsya so starikom.

Sedoj, sogbennyj i slepoj,
Beret on Ognennuyu Dshcher' -
I vot rassypalsya dvorec.
I sad osypalsya teper'.

Vse perehozhie - bezhat',
Drozha v smyaten'e, kak listva,
I sharom ploskaya Zemlya
Krutitsya v vihre estestva.

SHarahayutsya zvezdy proch',
Zabivshis' v shcheli pustoty,
Ne stalo pishchi i pit'ya,
Odni pustyni stol' pusty.

No est' Nevinnye Usta,
Oni - Vino, i Hleb, i Med;
Est' Pticy Glaz na vertelah -
I, voskresaya, est i p'et.

On znaet, chto rastet nazad,
Rastet v mladencheskie dni;
V pustyne straha i styda
Vdvoem skitayutsya oni.

Ona, kak lan', nesetsya proch' -
I, gde promchalas', vyros les,
Ee smyaten'em porozhden;
A on - za nej, vo t'mu dreves,

Vo t'mu dreves, vo t'mu Lyubvi
I Nenavisti, - on za nej;
I vse izvilistej lesa,
Neprohodimej i temnej.

I vsya pustynya zarosla
Stolpami mertvennyh derev,
I v Debryah Begstva i Lyubvi
Uzh ryshchut Volk, i Vepr', i Lev.

I on dobilsya svoego!
Mladenec on, ona - dryahla;
Vernulis' lyudi v te kraya,
A v nebo - zvezdy bez chisla.

Derev'ya prinesli plody,
Manya i pishchej i pit'em;
Uzhe vozvodyat goroda
I stroyat hizhiny krugom.

No lish' Uzhasnoe Ditya
Uvidyat zhiteli strany,
Kak s gromkim voplem: "Rodilos'!"
Sbegut iz etoj storony.

Ved' vedomo: lish' prikosnis'
K Uzhasnoj Ploti - i umresh';
Volk, Vepr' i Lev begut, drozha,
Derev'ya ogolila drozh'.

Ved' vedomo: na etu Plot'
Upravy lyudyam ne syskat',
Poka Staruha ne pridet...
I vse, kak skazano, - opyat'.

Perevod V. L. Toporova

103. THE LAND OF DREAMS

Awake, awake, my little boy!
Thou wast thy mother's only joy;
Why dost thou weep in thy gentle sleep?
Awake! thy father does thee keep.

'O, what land is the Land of Dreams?
What are its mountains, and what are its streams?
O father! I saw my mother there,
Among the lilies by waters fair.

'Among the lambs, clothed in white,
She walk'd with her Thomas in sweet delight.
I wept for joy, like a dove I mourn;
O! when shall I again return?'

Dear child, I also by pleasant streams
Have wander'd all night in the Land of Dreams;
But tho' calm and warm the waters wide, -
I could not get to the other side.

'Father, O father! what do we here
In this land of unbelief and fear?
The Land of Dreams is better far,
Above the light of the morning star.'

103. YUDOLX GREZ

- Prosnis', moj mal'chik, moj malysh!
Zachem ty plachesh' i krichish'?
Ne bojsya, milyj! Pogodi -
Otec prizhmet tebya k grudi.

- Ah! ya bluzhdal v YUdoli Grez.
YA videl reku i utes.
I mat' - vsyu v liliyah - zhivoj
YA tam uvidel nad vodoj.

Sredi yagnyat, belym-bela,
Ona so mnoj po travam shla.
Ot schast'ya plakal ya togda.
No kak vernut'sya mne tuda?

- Synok, ya byl v YUdoli Grez,
YA videl reku i utes,
No tak bezbrezhen byl potok,
CHto pereplyt' ego ne mog.

- Otec, otec! chego zh my zhdem!
YUdol' Otchayan'ya krugom!
V YUdoli Grez, blazhennyh Grez,
My pozabudem gorech' slez!

Perevod V. L. Toporova

104. MARY

Sweet Mary, the first time she ever was there,
Came into the ball-room among the fair;
The young men and maidens around her throng,
And these are the words upon every tongue:

'An Angel is here from the heavenly climes,
Or again does return the golden times;
Her eyes outshine every brilliant ray,
She opens her lips-'tis the Month of May.'

Mary moves in soft beauty and conscious delight,
To augment with sweet smiles all the joys of the night,
Nor once blushes t6 own to the rest of the fair
That sweet Love and Beauty are wortriy our care.

In the morning the villagers rose with delight,
And repeated with pleasure the joys of the night,
And Mary arose among friends to be free, k
But no friend from henceforward thou, Mary, shalt see.

Some said she was proud, some call'd her a whore,
And some, when she passed by, shut to the door;
A damp cold came o'er her, her blushes all fled;
Her lilies and roses are blighted and shed.

'O, why was I born with a different face?
Why was I not born like this envious race?
Why did Heaven adorn me with bountiful hand,
And then set me down in an envious land?

'To be weak as a lamb and smooth as a dove,
And not to raise envy, is call'd Christian love;
But if you raise envy your merit's to blame
For planting such spite in the weak and the tame.

'I will humble my beauty, I will not dress fine,
I will keep from the ball, and my eyes shall not shine;
And if any girl's lover forsakes her for me
I'll refuse him my hand, and from envy be free.'

She went out in morning attir'd plain and neat;
'Proud Mary's gone mad,' said the child in the street;
She went out in morning in plain neat attire,
And came home in evening bespatter'd with mire.

She trembled and wept, sitting on the bedside,
She forgot it was night, and she trembled and cried;
She forgot it was night, she forgot it was morn,
Her soft memory imprinted with faces of scorn;

With faces of scorn and with eyes of disdain,
Like foul fiends inhabiting Mary's mild brain;
She remembers no face like the Human Divine;
All faces have envy, sweet Mary, but thine;

And thine is a face of sweet love in despair,
And thine is a face of mild sorrow and care,
And thine is a face of wild terror and fear
That shall never be quiet till laid on its bier.

104. M|RI

Prekrasnaya Meri vpervye prishla
Na prazdnik mezh pervyh krasavic sela.
Nashla ona mnogo druzej i podrug,
I vot chto o nej govorili vokrug:

"Neuzheli k nam angel spustilsya s nebes
Ili vek zolotoj v nashe vremya voskres?
Svet nebesnyh luchej zatmevaet ona.
Priotkroet usta - nastupaet vesna".

Meri dvizhetsya tiho v siyan'e svoej
Krasoty, ot kotoroj i vsem veselej.
I, stydlivo krasneya, sama soznaet,
CHto prekrasnoe stoit lyubvi i zabot.

Utrom lyudi prosnulis' i vspomnili noch',
I vesel'e prodlit' oni byli ne proch'.
Meri tak zhe bespechno na prazdnik prishla,
No druzej ona bol'she v tolpe ne nashla.

Kto skazal, chto prekrasnaya Meri gorda,
Kto dobavil, chto Meri ne znaet styda.
Budto veter syroj naletel i unes
Lepestki raspustivshihsya lilij i roz.

"O, zachem ya krasivoj na svet rozhdena?
Pochemu ne pohozha na vseh ya odna?
Pochemu, odariv menya shchedroj rukoj,
Nebesa menya predali zlobe lyudskoj?

- Bud' smirenna, kak agnec, kak golub', chista, -
Takovo, mne tverdili, uchen'e Hrista.
Esli zh zavist' rozhdaesh' ty v dushah u vseh
Krasotoyu svoej - na tebe etot greh!

YA ne budu krasivoj, smenyu svoj naryad,
Moj rumyanec pobleknet, pomerknet moj vzglyad.
Esli zh kto predpochtet menya miloj svoej,
YA otvergnu lyubov' i poshlyu ego k nej".

Meri skromno odelas' i vyshla chut' svet.
"Sumasshedshaya!" - kriknul mal'chishka vosled.
Meri skromnyj, no chistyj nadela naryad,
A vernulas' zabryzgana gryaz'yu do pyat.

Vsya drozha, opustilas' ona na krovat',
I vsyu noch' ne mogla ona slezy unyat',
Pozabyla pro noch', ne zametila dnya,
V chutkoj pamyati zlobnye vzglyady hranya.

Lica, polnye yarosti, zloby slepoj,
Pered nej pronosilis', kak d'yavolov roj.
Ty ne videla, Meri, lucha dobroty.
Temnoj zloby ne znala odna tol'ko ty.

Ty zhe - obraz lyubvi, iznemogshej v slezah,
Nezhnyj obraz rebenka, uznavshego strah,
Obraz tihoj pechali, toski rokovoj,
CHto provodyat tebya do doski grobovoj.

Perevod S. YA. Marshaka

105. THE CRYSTAL CABINET

The Maiden caught me in the wild,
Where I was dancing merrily;
She put me into her Cabinet,
And lock'd me up with a golden key,

This Cabinet is form'd of gold
And pearl and crystal shining bright,
And within it opens into a world
And a little lovely moony night.

Another England there I saw,
Another London with its Tower,
Another Thames and other hills,
And another pleasant Surrey bower.

Another Maiden like herself,
Translucent, lovely, shining clear,
Threefold each in the other clos'd -
O, what a pleasant trembling fear!

O, what a smile! a threefold smile
Fill'd me, that like a flame I burn'd;
I bent to kiss the lovely Maid,
And found a threefold kiss return'd.

I strove to seize the inmost form
With ardour fierce and hands of flame,
But burst the Crystal Cabinet,
And like a weeping Babe became-

A weeping Babe upon the wild,
And weeping Woman pale reclin'd,
And in the outward air again
I fill'd with woes the passing wind.

105. HRUSTALXNAYA SHKATULKA

Plyasal ya na pustom prostore,
Kazalos', plyaska vesela;
No Deva YUnaya pojmala -
V svoyu shkatulku zaperla.

Byla hrustal'nogo shkatulka,
Byla zhemchuzhnoj, zolotoj;
Nezdeshnij mir v nej otkryvalsya
S nezdeshnej Noch'yu i Lunoj.

Nezdeshnej Angliya predstala:
Nezdeshnej Temzy berega,
Nezdeshnij Tauer i London,
Nezdeshni milye luga.

I Deva deyalas' nezdeshnej,
Skvozya skvoz' samoe sebya.
YA videl: v nej byla drugaya!
V toj - tret'ya, videl ya, lyubya!

YA trepetal... O, Tri Ulybki!
Plamen'ev pylkih tri volny!
YA celoval ih, i lobzan'ya
Trikraty mne vozvrashcheny!

YA k tret'ej, k tajnoj, k sokrovennoj
Dlan' plamesushchuyu proster -
I szheg hrustal'nuyu shkatulku,
Mladencem pal v pustoj prostor.

I ZHenshchina zagolosila,
I ya, Mladenec, golosil,
I veter proletal po svetu,
I veter kriki raznosil.

Perevod V. L. Toporova

106. THE GREY MONK

'I die, I die!' the Mother said,
'My children die for lack of bread.
What more has the merciless tyrant said?'
The Monk sat down on the stony bed.

The blood red ran from the Grey Monk's side,
His hands and feet were wounded wide,
His body bent, his arms and knees
Like to the roots of ancient trees.

His eye was dry; no tear could flow:
A hollow groan first spoke his woe.
He trembled and shudder'd upon the bed;
At length with a feeble cry he said:

'When God commanded this hand to write
In the studious hours of deep midnight,
He told me the writing I wrote should prove
The bane of all that on Earth I love.

'My brother starv'd between two walls,
His children's cry my soul appalls;
I mock'd at the wrack and griding chain,
My bent body mocks their torturing pain.

'Thy father drew his sword in the North,
With his thousands strong he marched forth;
Thy brother has arm'd himself in steel,
To avenge the wrongs thy children feel.

'But vain the sword and vain the bow,
They never can War's overthrow.
The hermit's prayer and the widow's tear
Alone can free the world from fear.

'For a tear is an intellectual thing,
And a sigh is the sword of an Angel King,
And the bitter groan of the martyr's woe
Is an arrow from the Almighty's bow.

'The hand of Vengeance found the bed
To which the purple tyrant fled;
The iron hand crush'd the tyrant's head,
And became a tyrant in his stead.'

106. SERYJ MONAH

Mat' prichitaet: - Nam konec!
Zamuchen v kreposti otec.
Ni kroshki v dome... Deti, spat'! -
Monah saditsya na krovat'.

Na lbu ego krovavyj shram.
Krov' luzhej natekla k nogam.
Kak molniej spalennyj dub,
On poluzhiv i polutrup.

No ni slezy v ego ochah...
Vzdohnuvshi gorestno, monah
Sobralsya iz poslednih sil
I s zhalkim krikom vozglasil:

- Kogda Gospod' moej ruke
Velel pisat' o zloj toske,
On rek: byt' etomu pis'mu
Proklyat'em rodu tvoemu.

Byl brat moj v krepost' zatochen.
Neschastnyh sirot slysha ston,
YA - sam isterzan i v cepyah, -
Smeyas', prevozmogal svoj strah.

Otec tvoj rat' svoyu sozval,
Ej put' na Sever ukazal;
Tvoj brat s druzhinoyu svoej
Otmstil za plach tvoih detej.

No tshchetna hitrost', hrupok mech,
Bojcov otvazhnyh gubit sech',
A torzhestvuet tol'ko tot,
Kto molitsya i slezy l'et.

Pust' vdov i muchenikov plach
S izdevkoj slushaet palach,
No voinstvo nevinnyh slez
Vedet v srazhenie Hristos!

Ruka Vozmezdiya najdet
Togo, kto v Purpure cvetet,
No mstitel', pust' on spravedliv,
Ubijcej stanet, otomstiv.

Perevod V. L. Toporova

107. AUGURIES OF INNOCENCE

To see a World in a grain of sand,
And a Heaven in a wild flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand,
And Eternity in an hour.
A robin redbreast in a cage
Puts all Heaven in a rage.
A dove-house fill'd with doves and pigeons
Shudders Hell thro' all its regions.
A dog starv'd at his master's gate
Predicts the ruin of the State.
A horse misus'd upon the road
Calls to Heaven for human blood.
Each outcry of the hunted hare
A fibre from the brain does tear.
A skylark wounded in the wing,
A cherubim does cease to sing.
The game-cock dipt and arm'd for fight
Does the rising sun affright.
Every wolfs and lion's howl
Raises from Hell a Human soul.
The wild deer, wandering here and there,
Keeps the Human soul from care.
The lamb misus'd breeds public strife,
And yet forgives the butcher's knife.
The bat that flits at close of eve
Has left the brain that won't believe.
The owl that calls upon the night
Speaks the unbeliever's fright.
He who shall hurt the little wren
Shall never be belov'd by men.
He who the ox to wrath has mov'd
Shall never be by woman lov'd.
The wanton boy that kills the fly
Shall feel the spider's enmity.
He who torments the chafer's sprite
Weaves a bower in endless night.
The caterpillar on the leaf
Repeats to thee thy mother's grief.
Kill not the moth nor butterfly,
For the Last Judgement draweth nigh.
He who shall train the horse to war
Shall never pass the polar bar.
The beggar's dog and widow's cat,
Feed them, and thou wilt grow fat.
The gnat that sings his summer's song
Poison gets from Slander's tongue.
The poison of the snake and newt
Is the sweat of Envy's foot.
The poison of the honey-bee
Is the artist's jealousy.
The prince's robes and beggar's rags
Are toadstools on the miser's bags.
A truth that's told with bad intent
Beats all the lies you can invent.
It is right it should be so;
Man was made for joy and woe;
And when this we rightly know,
Thro' the world we safely go.
Joy and woe are woven fine,
A clothing for the soul divine;
Under every grief and pine
Runs a joy with silken twine.
The babe is more than swaddling-bands;
Throughout all these human lands
Tools were made, and born were hands,
Every farmer understands. -
Every tear from every eye
Becomes a babe in Eternity;
This is caught by Females bright,
And return'd to its own delight.
The bleat, the bark, bellow, and roar
Are waves that beat on Heaven's shore.
The babe that weeps the rod beneath
Writes revenge in realms of death.
The beggar's rags, fluttering in air,
Does to rags the heavens tear.
The soldier, arm'd with sword and gun,
Palsied strikes the summer's sun.
The poor man's farthing is worth more
Than all the gold on Afric's shore.
One mite wrung from the labourer's hands
Shall buy and sell the miser's lands
Or, if protected from on high,
Does that whole nation sell and buy.
He who mocks the infant's faith
Shall be mock'd in Age and Death.
He who shall teach the child to doubt
The rotting grave shall ne'er get out.
He who respects the infant's faith
Triumphs over Hell and Death.
The child's toys and the old man's reasons
Are the fruits of the two seasons.
The questioner, who sits so sly,
Shall never know how to reply.
He who replies to words of Doubt
Doth put the light of knowledge out.
The strongest poison ever known
Came from Caesar's laurel crown.
Nought can deform the human race
Like to the armour's iron brace.
When gold and gems adorn the plough
To peaceful arts shall Envy bow.
A riddle, or the cricket's cry,
Is to Doubt a fit reply.
The emmet's inch and eagle's mile
Make lame Philosophy to smile.
He who doubts from what he sees
Will ne'er believe, do what you please.
If the Sun and Moon should doubt,
They'd immediately go out.
To be in a passion you good may do,
But no good if a passion is in you.
The whore and gambler, by the state
Licensed, build that nation's fate.
The harlot's cry from street to street
Shall weave Old England's winding-sheet
The winner's shout, the loser's curse,
Dance before dead England's hearse.
Every night and every morn
Some to misery are born.
Every morn and every night
Some are born to sweet delight.
Some are born to sweet delight,
Some are born to endless night.
We are led to believe a lie
When we see not thro' the eye,
Which was born in a night, to perish in a night,
When the Soul slept in beams of light.
God appears, and God is Light,
To those poor souls who dwell in Night;
But does a Human Form display
To those who dwell in realms of Day.

107. IZRECHENIYA NEVINNOSTI

Nebo sinee - v cvetke,
V gorstke praha - beskonechnost';
Celyj mir derzhat' v ruke,
V kazhdom mige videt' vechnost'.

Esli pticu v kletku pryachut,
Nebesa nad neyu plachut.
Golubyatnya s golubyami
Gasit d'yavolovo plamya.
Pes golodnyj okoleet -
Angliya ne uceleet.
Kon', ishlestannyj plet'mi, -
Signal k rasprave nad lyud'mi.
Krik zatravlennogo zajca
V chelovechij mozg vonzaetsya.
ZHavoronka podob'esh' -
Dobryh angelov spugnesh'.
Petushinyj boj nachnetsya -
Solnce v nebesah kachnetsya.
Volchij voj i l'vinyj rev
Budyat spyashchih mertvecov.
Lan', kradushchayasya v kushchah,
Ohranyaet son zhivushchih.
Trus-myasnik i hrabryj voin -
Bliznecy so skotoboen.
Netopyr' roditsya seryj
Iz dushi, lishennoj very.
CHto bezbozhnik, chto sova -
Net im sna, dusha mertva.
Tot, kto pticu b'et vpustuyu,
Zasluzhit nenavist' lyudskuyu.
Tot, kto holostit svoj skot,
Tshchetno zhenskoj laski zhdet.
Esli mal'chik shlepnet moshku -
Pauch'ej on pojdet dorozhkoj.
Tot, kto muchaet zhuka,
Budet muchit'sya veka.
V gusenice razumej
Gore materi tvoej.
Kol' pogibnet strekoza -
Gryanet bozhiya groza.
Kto konya k srazhen'yam shkolit,
Sej greh voveki ne zamolit.
Pokormi kota i psa -
Tebya prokormyat nebesa.
YAd komarov, zhuzhzhashchih letom, -
Brat men'shoj inym navetam.
Zavist' vechno vsya v potu,
|tot pot - u zmej vo rtu.
Po chasti yada prevzoshel
Lyuboj poet medvyanyh pchel.
I chervoncy, i polushki
U skupca v rukah - gnilushki.
Pravdu podluyu skazhi -
Vyjdet gazhe podloj lzhi.
Vot chto nuzhno znat' vsegda:
Slitny radost' i beda.
Znaj ob etom - i togda
Ne spotknesh'sya nikogda.
Radost' i beda - odno
Plat'e, hitro spleteno:
Pod nevzrachnoe ryadno
Poddeto tonkoe sukno.
ZHizn' rebenka povazhnej
Im isporchennyh veshchej:
Stukni po stolu. Ot stuku
Stanet zhal' ne stol, a ruku.
Slezy, prolitye nami,
Stanut nashimi synami -
Synov'ya otyshchut mat',
CHtob smeyat'sya i sverkat'.
Bleyan'e, mychan'e, rzhan'e -
Volny v rajskom okeane.
Mal'chugan, nakazan rozgoj, -
Rayu tvoemu ugroza.
Plat'e nishchego ubogo,
No ne luchshe i u boga.
Voin s sablej i ruzh'em
Solnce delaet rzhav'em.
Grosh podenshchika cennee,
CHem sokrovishcha Gvinei.
Grosh bednyage ne ustupish' -
Kraj skupcov prodash' i kupish',
A kol' vlast'yu nadelen -
Prodash' i kupish' Al'bion.
Otuchit' ditya ot very -
Zasluzhit' potoki sery.
Nauchit' ditya somnen'yam -
Rasprostit'sya s Voskresen'em.
Tot, kto veru v detyah chtit,
Muki ada posramit.
Igry malyh, mysli staryh -
Urozhaj v zemnyh ambarah.
Tot, kto hitro voproshaet,
Kak otvetit', sam ne znaet.
Recham somnen'ya ne otvetstvuj,
A ne to pogasish' svet svoj.
Lavry Cezarya taili
YAd, ubijstvennyj po sile.
Gde chelovek byvaet huzhe,
CHem sredi svoih oruzhii?
Plug ceni dorozhe zlata -
I ne budesh' vedat' zla ty.
Tochnejshij - i navernyaka -
Otvet somnen'yu - skrip sverchka.
Orel - stremglav, murash - polzkom,
A mudrost' - sidnem, no verhom.
CHut' filosof usomnitsya -
Stukni. On reshit, chto mnitsya.
Solnce, znaj ono somnen'ya,
Grelo b d'yavola v geenne.
Strast'yu horosho pylat',
Ploho - hvorostom ej stat'.
Vzyatku dav, igrok i blyad'
Stranoyu stali zapravlyat'.
Zazyvan'yami bludnicy
Savan Anglii kroitsya.
Vyigral il' proigralsya -
Grob strany zasypat' vzyalsya.
Temnoj noch'yu i chut' svet
Lyudi yavyatsya na svet.
Lyudi yavyatsya na svet,
A vokrug - nochnaya t'ma.
I odnih - zhdet Schast'ya svet,
A drugih - Neschast'ya t'ma.
Esli b my glyadeli glazom,
To vo lzhi pogryaz by razum.
Glaz vo t'mu glyadit, glaz vo t'mu skol'zit,
A dusha mezh tem v blikah sveta spit.
Tem, kto stranstvuet v nochi,
Svetyat Gospoda luchi.
K tem, kto v stranah dnya zhivet,
Bogochelovek gryadet.

Perevod V. L. Toporova

108. LONG JOHN BROWN AND LITTLE MARY BELL

Little Mary Bell had a Fairy in a nut,
Long John Brown had the Devil in his gut;
Long John Brown lov'd little Mary Bell,
And the Fairy drew the Devil into the nutshell.

Her Fairy skipp'd out and her Fairy skipp'd in;

He laugh'd at the Devil, saying 'Love is a sin.'
The Devil he raged, and the Devil he was wroth,
And the Devil enter'd into the young man's broth.

He was soon in the gut of the loving young swain,
For John ate and drank to drive away love's pain;

But all he could do he grew thinner and thinner,
Tho' he ate and drank as much as ten men for his dinner.

Some said he had a wolf in his stomach day and night,
Some said he had the Devil, and they guess'd right;
The Fairy skipp'd about in his glory, joy and pride,
And he laugh'd at the Devil till poor John Brown died.

Then the Fairy skipp'd out of the old nutshell,
And woe and alack for pretty Mary Bell!
For the Devil crept in when the Fairy skipp'd out,
And there goes Miss Bell with her fusty old nut.

108. DLINNYJ DZHON BRAUN I MALYUTKA M|RI B|LL

Byla v orehe feya u kroshki Meri Bell,
A u verzily Dzhona v pechenkah chert sidel.
Lyubil malyutku Meri verzila bol'she vseh,
I zamanila feya d'yavola v oreh.

Vot vyprygnula feya i spryatalas' v oreh.
Smeyas', ona skazala: "Lyubov' - velikij greh!"
Obidelsya na feyu v nee vlyublennyj bes,
I vot k verzile Dzhonu v pohlebku on zalez.

Popal k nemu v pechenki i nachal portit' krov',
Verzila est za semeryh, chtoby prognat' lyubov',
No taet on, kak svechka, hudeet s kazhdym dnem
S teh por, kak poselilsya golodnyj d'yavol v nem.

- Dolzhno byt', - lyudi govoryat, - v nego zabralsya volk!
Drugie d'yavola vinyat, i v etom est' svoj tolk.
A feya plyashet i poet - tak d'yavol ej smeshon.
I doplyasalas' do togo, chto umer dlinnyj Dzhon.

Togda plyasun'ya-feya pokinula oreh.
S teh por malyutka Meri ne vedaet uteh.
Ee pustym orehom sam d'yavol zavladel.
I vot s protuhshej skorlupoj ostalas' Meri Bell.

Perevod S. YA. Marshaka

109. WILLIAM BOND

I wonder whether the girls are mad,
And I wonder whether they mean to kill,
And I wonder if William Bond will die,
For assuredly he is very ill.

He went to church in a May morning,
Attended by Fairies, one, two, and three;
But the Angels of Providence drove them away,
And he return'd home in misery.

He went not out to the field nor fold,
He went not out to the village nor town,
But he came home in a black, black cloud,
And took to his bed, and there lay down.

And an Angel of Providence at his feet,
And an Angel of Providence at his head,
And in the midst a black, black cloud,
And in the midst the sick man on his bed.

And on his right hand was Mary Green,
And on his left hand was his sister Jane,
And their tears fell thro' the black, black cloud
To drive away the sick man's pain.

'O William, if thou dost another love,
Dost another love better than poor Mary,
Go and take that other to be thy wife,
And Mary Green shall her servant be.'

'Yes, Mary, I do another love,
Another I love far better than thee,
And another I will have for my wife;
Then what have I to do with thee?

'For thou art melancholy pale,
And on thy head is the cold moon's shine,
But she is ruddy and bright as day,
And the sunbeams dazzle from her eyne.'

Mary trembled and Mary chill'd,
And Mary fell down on the right-hand floor,
That William Bond and his sister Jane
Scare could recover Mary more.

When Mary woke and found her laid
On the right hand of her William dear,
On the right hand of his loved bed,
And saw her William Bond so near,

The Fairies that fled from William Bond
Danced around her shining head;
They danced over the pillow white,
And the Angels of Providence left the bed.

I thought Love lived in the hot sunshine,
But O he lives in the moony light!
I thought to find Love in the heat of day,
But sweet Love is the comforter of night.

Seek Love in the pity of others' woe,
In the gentle relief of another's care,
In the darkness of night and the winter's snow,
In the naked and outcast, seek Love there!

109. VILXYAM BOND

YA porazhayus' bezum'yu Dev,
YA porazhayus' ih zhazhde krovi,
I ya porazhayus': Villi Bond zhiv,
Hotya poshatnulos' ego zdorov'e!

On v cerkov' majskim utrom poshel;
Odna, dve, tri - zamel'kali Fei,
No Angely Providen'ya spugnuli Fej,
I Villi domoj povernul, mrachneya.

Ne poshel on pasti ovec,
Ne poshel on pahat' zemlicu -
CHernee tuchi prishel domoj,
CHernee tuchi v postel' lozhitsya.

Angel Providen'ya vstal v nogah,
Angel Providen'ya stereg izgolov'e,
A posredine - tuchi chernej -
Mrachnyj Muzhlan pomirat' nagotove.

Odesnuyu vstala Meri Grin,
Oshuyuyu vstala ego sestra,
No plach nepritvornyj nad tuchej chernoj
Ne podnyal stradal'ca s ego odra.

"O Vil'yam, ezheli ty razlyubil,
Ezheli polyubil druguyu, -
Podi i v zheny ee voz'mi,
I k vam sluzhankoj togda pojdu ya!"

"Vot v etom, Meri, ty prava.
Ty zanimaesh' chuzhoe mesto.
Druguyu v ZHeny ya voz'mu,
Tak chto zhe mne v tebe, Nevesta?

Ty pugliva, i ty bledna,
Lunnyj hlad na chele vitaet,
A ona - goryacha, smela,
Plamya solnca v ochah blistaet!"

Meri vnemlet, i Meri zrit,
Meri padaet, gde stoyala;
Bezdyhannuyu s polovic
Perenosyat pod odeyalo.

No edva ochnulas' ona -
Obnaruzhila, torzhestvuya,
CHto polozhena na krovat'
Ot zhelannogo odesnuyu.

Fei, spugnutye s utra,
Vorotilis' i zaplyasali
Na podushkah vokrug nee.
Angely Providen'ya propali.

Lyubov', ya dumal, - zhar i svet.
A vyshlo - polut'ma i trepet.
Lyubov', ya dumal, - Solnca Smeh.
A vyshlo - tihij lunnyj lepet.

Ishchite v gorestyah Lyubov',
V slezah, v uchastii, v zabote,
Vo t'me, v snegah, sredi nagih
I siryh. Tam ee najdete!

Perevod V. L. Toporova

THE BOOK OF THEL

THEL'S MOTTO

Does the Eagle know what is in the pit
Or wilt thou go ask the Mole?
Can Wisdom be put in a silver rod,
Or Love in a golden bowl?

The daughters of [the] Seraphim led round their sunny flocks -
All but the youngest: she in paleness sought the secret air,
To fade away like morning beauty from her mortal day:
Down by the river of Adona her soft voice is heard,
And thus her gentle lamentation falls like morning dew: -

'O life of this our spring! why fades the lotus of the water?
Why fade these children of the spring, born but to smile and fall?
Ah! Thel is like a wat'ry bow, and like a parting cloud;
Like a reflection in a glass; like shadows in the water;
Like dreams of infants, like a smile upon an infant's face;
Like the dove's voice; like transient day; like music in the air.
Ah! gentle may I lay me down, and gentle rest my head,
And gentle sleep the sleep of death, and gentle hear the voice
Of Him that walketh in the garden in the evening time.'

The Lily of the Valley, breathing in the humble grass,
Answered the lovely maid and said: I am a wat'ry weed,
And I am very small, and love to dwell in lowly vales;
So weak, the gilded butterfly scarce perches on my head.
Yet I am visited from heaven, and He that smiles on all
Walks in the valley, and each morn over me spreads His hand,
Saying, "Rejoice, thou humble grass, thou new-born lily-flower,
Thou gentle maid of silent valleys and of modest brooks;
For thou shalt be clothed in light, and fed with morning manna,
Till summer's heat melts thee beside the fountains and the springs,
To flourish in eternal vales." Then why should Thel complain?
Why should the mistress of the vales of Har utter a sigh?'

She ceas'd, and smil'd in tears, then sat down in her silver shrine.

Thel answer'd: 'O thou little Virgin of the peaceful valley,
Giving to those that cannot crave, the voiceless, the o'ertired;
Thy breath doth nourish the innocent lamb, he smells thy milky garments,
He crops thy flowers while thou sittest smiling in his face,
Wiping his mild and meeking mouth from all contagious taints.
Thy wine doth purify the golden honey; thy perfume,
Which thou dost scatter on every little'blade of grass that springs,
Revives the milked cow, and tames the fire-breathing steed.
But Thel is like a faint cloud kindled at the rising sun:
I vanish from my pearly throne, and who shall find my place?'

'Queen of the vales,' the Lily answer'd, 'ask the tender Cloud,
And it shall tell thee why it glitters in the morning sky.
And why it scatters its bright beauty thro' the humid air.
Descend, O little Cloud, and hover before the eyes of Thel.'

The Cloud descended, and the Lily bowed her modest head,
And went to mind her numerous charge among the verdant grass.

'O little Cloud,' the Virgin said, T charge thee tell to me
Why thou complainest not, when in one hour thou fade away:
Then we shall seek thee, but not find. Ah! Thel is like to thee:
I pass away: yet I complain, and no one hears my voice.'
The Cloud then show'd his golden head and his bright form emerg'd,
Hovering and glittering on the air before the face of Thel.

'O Virgin, know'st thou not our steeds drink of the golden springs
Where Luvah doth renew his horses? Look'st thou on my youth,
And fearest thou, because I vanish and am seen no more,
Nothing remains? O Maid, I tell thee, when I pass away,
It is to tenfold life, to love, to peace, and raptures holy:
Unseen descending, weigh my light wings upon balmy flowers,
And court the fair-eyed dew, to take me to her shining tent:
The weeping virgin, trembling, kneels before the risen sun,
Till we arise link'd in a golden band and never part,
But walk united, bearing food to all out tender flowers.'

'Dost thou, O little Cloud? I fear that I am not like thee,
For I walk thro' the vales of Har, and smell the sweetest flowers,
But I feed not the little flowers; I hear the warbling birds,
But I feed not the warbling birds; they fly and seek their food:
But Thel delights in these no more, because I fade away;
And all shall say, "Without a use this shining woman liv'd,
Or did she only live to be at death the food of worms?" '

The Cloud reclin'd upon his airy throne, and answer'd thus: -

'Then if thou art the food of worms, O Virgin of the skies,
How great thy use, how great thy blessing! Everything that lives
Lives not alone nor for itself. Fear not, and I will call
The weak Worm from its lowly bed, and thou shalt hear its voice.
Come forth, Worm of the silent valley, to thy pensive Queen.'
The helpless Worm arose, and sat upon the Lily's leaf,
And the bright Cloud sail'd on, to find his partner in the vale.

III

Then Thel astonish'd view'd the Worm upon its dewy bed.

'Art thou a Worm? Image of weakness, art thou but a Worm?
I see thee like an infant wrapped in the Lily's leaf.
Ah! weep not, little voice, thou canst not speak, but thou canst weep.
Is this a Worm? I see thee lay helpless and naked, weeping,
And none to answer, none to cherish thee with mother's smiles.'

The Clod of Clay heard the Worm's voice and rais'd her pitying head:
She bow'd over the weeping infant, and her life exhal'd
In milky fondness: then on Thel she fix'd her humble eyes.

'O Beauty of the vales of Har! we live not for ourselves.
Thou seest me, the meanest thing, and so I am indeed.
My bosom of itself is cold, and of itself is dark;
But He, that loves the lowly, pours His oil upon my head,
And kisses me, and binds His nuptial bands around my breast,
And says: "Thou mother of my children, I have loved thee,
And I have given thee a crown that none can take away."
But how this is, sweet Maid, I know not, and I cannot know;
I ponder, and I cannot ponder; yet I live and love.'

The Daughter of Beauty wip'd her pitying tears with her white veil,
And said: 'Alas! I knew not this, and therefore did I weep.
That God would love a worm I knew, and punish the evil foot
That wilful bruis'd its helpless form; but that He cherish'd it
With milk and oil I never knew, and therefore did I weep;
And I complain'd in the mild air, because I fade away,
And lay me down in thy cold bed, and leave my shining lot.'

'Queen of the vales,' the matron Clay answer'd, 'I heard thy sighs,
And all thy moans flew o'er my roof, but I have call'd them down.
Wilt thou, O Queen, enter my house? "Tis given thee to enter
And to return: fear nothing, enter with thy virgin feet.'

The eternal gates' terrific Porter lifted the northern bar:
Thel enter'd in and saw the secrets of the Jand unknown.
She saw the couches of the dead, and where the fibrous roots
Of every heart on earth infixes deep its restless twists:
A land of sorrows and of tears where never smile was seen.

She wander'd in the land of clouds thro' valleys dark, list'ning
Dolours and lamentations; waiting oft beside a dewy grave
She stood in silence, list'ning to the voices of the ground,
Till to her own grave-plot she came, and there she sat down,
And heard this voice of sorrow breathed from the hollow pit.

'Why cannot the Ear be closed to its own destruction?
Or the glist'ning Eye to the poison of a smile?
Why are Eyelids stor'd with arrows ready drawn,
Where a thousand fighting men in ambusji lie,
Or an Eye of gifts and graces show'rhig fruits and coined gold?
Why a Tongue impress'd with honey from every wind?
Why an Ear, a whirlpool fierce to draw creations in?
Why a Nostril wide inhaling terror, trembling, and affrigfit?
Why a tender curb upon the youthful, burning boy?
Why a little curtain of flesh on the bed of our desire?'

The Virgin started from her seat, apd with a shriek
Fled back unhinder'd till she came into the vales of Har.

THE END.

KNIGA T|LX

x x x

Izvestno l' orlu, chto taitsya v zemle?
Il' krot vam skazhet o tom?
Kak mudrost' v serebryanom spryatat' zhezle,
A lyubov' - v kovshe zolotom?

V doline dshcheri Serafimov pasli svoih ovec.
No Tel', ih mladshaya sestra, bluzhdala odinoko,
Gotova s pervym dunoven'em ischeznut' navsegda.
Vdol' po techeniyu Adony nesetsya skorbnyj ropot,
I l'yutsya tihie stenan'ya, kak padet rosa.

- O ty, begushchaya voda! Zachem tvoj lotos vyanet?
Tvoih detej pechalen zhrebij: mgnovennyj smeh i smert'.
Ah, Tel', - kak raduga vesny, kak oblako v lazuri,
Kak obraz v zerkale, kak teni, chto brodyat po vode,
Kak mimoletnyj detskij son, kak rezvyj smeh rebenka,
Kak golos golubya lesnogo, kak muzyka vdali.
Skorej by golovu sklonit', zabyt'sya bezmyatezhno,
I tiho spat' poslednim snom, i slyshat' tihij golos
Togo, kto po sadu prohodit vecherneyu poroj.

Nevinnyj landysh, chut' zametnyj sredi smirennyh trav,
Prekrasnoj devushke otvetil: - YA - tonkij stebelek,
ZHivu ya v nizmennyh dolinah; i tak ya slab i mal,
CHto motylek prisest' boitsya, porhaya, na menya.
No nebo blagostno ko mne, i tot, kto vseh leleet,
Ko mne prihodit v rannij chas i, oseniv ladon'yu,
Mne shepchet: "Radujsya, cvetok, o liliya-malyutka,
O deva chistaya dolin i ruchejkov ukromnyh.
ZHivi, odevshis' v tkan' luchej, pitajsya bozh'ej mannoj,
Poka u zvonkogo klyucha ot znoya ne uvyanesh',
CHtob rascvesti v dolinah vechnyh!" Na chto zhe ropshchet Tel'?
O chem vzdyhaet bezuteshno krasa doliny Gar?

Cvetok umolk i pritailsya v rosistom altare.

Tel' otvechala: - O malyutka, o liliya dolin,
Ty otdaesh' sebya ustalym, bespomoshchnym, nemym,
Ty nezhish' krotkogo yagnenka: molochnyj tvoj naryad
S vostorgom lizhet on i shchiplet dushistye cvety,
Mezh tem kak ty s ulybkoj nezhnoj glyadish' emu v glaza,
Smetaya s mordochki nevinnoj prilipshij vrednyj sor.
Tvoj sok prohladnyj ochishchaet gustoj yantarnyj med.
Dysha tvoim blagouhan'em, okrestnaya trava
ZHivit kormilicu-korovu, smiryaet pyl konya.
No Tel' - kak oblako, sluchajno zazhzhennoe zarej.
Ono pokinet tron zhemchuzhnyj, i kto ego najdet?

- Carica yunaya dolin! - promolvil skromnyj landysh, -
Ty mozhesh' oblako sprosit', plyvushchee nad nami,
Zachem na utrennej zare gorit ono i bleshchet,
Ogni i kraski rassypaya po vlazhnoj sineve.
Sleti k nam, oblako, pomedli pered glazami Tel'!

Spustilos' oblako, a landysh, golovku nakloniv,
Opyat' ushel k svoim besschetnym zabotam i delam.

- Skazhi mne, oblako, - sprosila zadumchivaya Tel', -
Kak ty ne ropshchesh', ne toskuesh', zhivya odin lish' chas?
No chas projdet, i bol'she v nebe tebya my ne najdem.
I Tel' - kak ty. No Tel' toskuet, i net otveta ej!
Glavu zlatuyu obnaruzhiv i vyplyv na prostor,
Sverknulo oblako, vitaya nad golovoyu Tel'.

- Ty znaesh', vlagu zolotuyu prohladnyh rodnikov
P'yut nashi koni tam, gde Luva menyaet loshadej.
Ty smotrish' s grust'yu i trevogoj na molodost' moyu,
Skorbya o tom, chto ya rastayu, ischeznu bez sleda.
No znaj, o devushka: rastayav, ya tol'ko perejdu
K desyatikratnoj novoj zhizni, k pokoyu i lyubvi.
K zemle spuskayas' nevidimkoj, ya chashechek cvetov
Kasayus' kryl'yami i feyu puglivuyu - rosu
Molyu prinyat' menya v prozrachnyj, siyayushchij shater.
Rydaet trepetnaya deva, koleni prekloniv
Pered svetilom voshodyashchim. No skoro my vstaem
Soedinennoj, nerazluchnoj, likuyushchej chetoj,
CHtob vmeste stranstvovat' i pishchu nesti cvetam polej.

- Neuzhto, oblachko? YA vizhu, razlichen nash udel:
Dyshu ya tozhe aromatom cvetov doliny Gar,
No ne kormlyu cvetov dushistyh. YA slyshu shchebet ptic,
No ne pitayu malyh ptashek. Oni svoj korm v polyah
Nahodyat sami. YA ischeznu, i skazhut obo mne:
Bez pol'zy vek svoj prozhila siyayushchaya deva,
Ili zhila, chtob stat' dobychej prozhorlivyh chervej?..

S prestola oblako sklonilos' i otvechalo Tel':

- Kol' suzhdeno tebe, o deva, stat' pishchej dlya chervej,
Kak veliko tvoe znachen'e, kak chuden tvoj udel.
Vse to, chto dyshit v etom mire, zhivet ne dlya sebya.
Ne bojsya, esli iz mogily chervya ya pozovu.
YAvis' k zadumchivoj carice, smirennyj syn Zemli!

Mogil'nyj cherv' pripolz mgnovenno i leg na vlazhnyj list,
I skrylos' oblako v pogone za sputnicej svoej.

III

Bessil'nyj cherv' lezhal, svernuvshis', na malen'kom listke.
- Ah, kto ty, slaboe sozdan'e? Ty - cherv'? I tol'ko cherv'?

Peredo mnoj lezhit mladenec, zavernutyj v listok.
Ne plach', o slabyj golosok! Ty govorit' ne mozhesh'
I tol'ko plachesh' bez konca. Nikto tebya ne slyshit,
Nikto lyubov'yu ne sogreet ozyabshee ditya!..

No glyba vlazhnaya zemli malyutku uslyhala,
Sklonilas' laskovo nad nim i vse zhivye soki,
Kak mat' mladencu, otdala. I, nakormiv pitomca,
Smirennyj vzglyad spokojnyh glaz na devu ustremila.

- Krasa dolin! My vse na svete zhivem ne dlya sebya.
Menya ty vidish'? YA nichtozhna, nichtozhnej v mire vseh,
YA lishena tepla i sveta, temna i holodna.
No tot, kto lyubit vseh smirennyh, l'et na menya elej,
Menya celuet, i odezhdy mne brachnye daet,
I govorit: "Tebya izbral ya, o mat' moih detej,
I dal tebe venec netlennyj, lyubvi moej zalog!"
No chto, o deva, eto znachit, ponyat' ya ne mogu.
YA tol'ko znayu, chto dano mne zhit' i, zhivya, lyubit'.

Tel' osushila legkoj tkan'yu potoki svetlyh slez
I tiho molvila: - Otnyne ne stanu ya roptat'.
YA znala: drug vsego zhivogo ne mozhet ne zhalet'
CHervya nichtozhnogo i strogo nakazhet za nego
Togo, kto s umyslom razdavit bespomoshchnuyu tvar'.
No ya ne znala, chto eleem i chistym molokom
CHervya on kormit, i naprasno roptala na nego,
Strashas' sojti v syruyu zemlyu, pokinut' svetlyj mir.

- Poslushaj, devushka, - skazala privetlivo zemlya, -
Davno tvoi ya slyshu vzdohi, vse zhaloby tvoi
Neslis' nad krovleyu moeyu, - ya privlekla ih vniz.
Ty hochesh' dom moj posetit'? Tebe dano spustit'sya

I vyjti vnov' na svet dnevnoj. Pereshagni bez straha
Svoeyu devstvennoj nogoyu zapretnyj moj porog!

Ugryumyj storozh vechnyh vrat zasov zheleznyj podnyal,
I Tel', sojdya, uznala tajny nevidannoj strany,
Uzrela lozha mertvecov, podzemnye glubiny,
Gde niti vseh zemnyh serdec gnezdyatsya, izvivayas', -
Stranu pechali, gde ulybka ne svetit nikogda.

Ona brodila v carstve tuch, po sumrachnym dolinam,
Vnimala zhalobam gluhim, i chasto otdyhala
Vblizi nevedomyh mogil, prislushivayas' k stonam
Iz glubiny syroj zemli... Tak, medlenno bluzhdaya,
K svoej mogile podoshla, i tiho tam prisela,
I uslyhala skorbnyj gul pustoj, glubokoj yamy:

- Zachem vsegda otkryto uho dlya rokovyh vestej,
A glaz blestyashchij - dlya ulybki, tayashchej sladkij yad?
Zachem bezzhalostnoe veko polno zhestokih strel,
Skryvaya voinov besschetnyh v zasade, ili glaz,
Struyashchij milosti i laski, chervoncy i plody?
Zachem yazyk medovoj pyl'yu laskayut veterki?
Zachem v krugovorot svoj uho vtyanut' stremitsya mir?
Zachem vdyhayut nozdri uzhas, raskryvshis' i drozha?
Zachem goryashchij otrok svyazan stol' nezhnoyu uzdoj?
Zachem zavesa tonkoj ploti nad logovom strastej?..

Tel' s krikom rinulas' ottuda - i v sumrake, nikem
Ne ostanovlena, dostigla dolin cvetushchih Gar.

Perevod S. YA. Marshaka

THE MARRIAGE OF HEAVEN AND HELL

THE ARGUMENT

Rintrah roars, and shakes his fires
in the burden'd air;
Hungry clouds swag on the deep.

Once meek, and in a perilous path,
The just man kept his course along
The vale of death.
Roses are planted where thorns grow,
And on the barren heath
Sing the honey bees.

Then the perilous path was planted,
And a river and a spring
On every cliff and tomb,
And on the bleached bones
Red clay brought forth;

Till the villain left the paths of ease,
To walk in perilous paths, and drive
The just man into barren climes.

Now the sneaking serpent walks
In mild humility,
And the just man rages in the wilds
Where lions roam.

Rintrah roars, and shakes his fires in the burden'd air;
Hungry clouds swag on the deep.

-----

BRAKOSOCHETANIE RAYA I ADA

SMYSL

Rintra revet i pylaet
v tyazhelom nebe;
ZHadnye tuchi drozhat nad puchinoj.

Krotkij pravednik nekogda
Prohodil po opasnoj doroge
V doline smerti.
Vmesto terniev - rozy,
Na vereske pustoshi
Poyut medonosnye pchely.

Teper' ne projti po opasnoj doroge:
Iz kazhdoj skaly i mogily
Zabili ruchej i reka,
I belye kosti mertvyh
Obagrilis' ot krasnoj gliny;

I zlodej ostavil dorogu pokoya
I po opasnoj doroge
Zagnal cheloveka v pustynyu.

Nyne v nezhnom smiren'e polzaet
Zlaya zmeya.
I yaritsya pravednik v golyh stranah,
Gde brodyat l'vy.

Rintra revet i pylaet v tyazhelom nebe;
ZHadnye tuchi drozhat nad puchinoj.

-----

As a new heaven is begun, and it is now thirty-three years since its
advent, the Eternal Hell revives. And lo! Swedenborg is the Angel sitting at
the tomb: his writings are the linen clothes folded up. Now is the dominion
of Edom, and the return of Adam into Paradise. See Isaiah xxxiv and xxxv
chap.
Without Contraries is no progression. Attraction and Repulsion,
Reason and Energy, Love and Hate, are necessary to Human existence.
From these contraries spring what the religious call Good and Evil.
Good is the passive that obeys Reason. Evil is the active springing from
Energy.
Good is Heaven. Evil is Hell.

-----

THE VOICE OF THE DEVIL

All Bibles or sacred codes have been the causes of the following
Errors: -
1. That Man has two real existing principles, viz. a Body and a Soul.
2. That Energy, call'd Evil, is alone from the Body; and that Reason,
call'd Good, is alone from the Soul.
3. That God will torment Man in Eternity for following his Energies.
But the following Contraries to these are True: -
1. Man has no Body distinct from his Soul; for that call'd Body is a
portion of Soul discern'd by the five Senses, the chief inlets of Soul in
this age.
2. Energy is the only life, and is from the Body; and Reason is the
bound or outward circumference of Energy.
3. Energy is Eternal Delight.

-----

Tridcat' tri goda nazad s nachalom novogo raya vozrodilsya i Vechnyj Ad. I
vzglyani: Svedenborg, slovno Angel, sidit na grobe, i slova ego - na
plashchanice. Nastalo gospodstvo Edoma, i Adam vozvratilsya v raj; smotri knigu
Isaji, glavy XXXIV i XXXV.
Dvizhenie voznikaet iz Protivopolozhnostej. Vlechenie i Otvrashchenie, Mysl'
i Dejstvie, Lyubov' i Nenavist' neobhodimy dlya bytiya CHeloveka.
Protivopolozhnosti sozdayut to, chto veruyushchie nazyvayut Dobrom i Zlom.
Dobro passivno i podchinyaetsya Mysli. Zlo aktivno i proistekaet ot Dejstviya.
Dobro - eto Raj. Zlo - eto Ad.

-----

GOLOS DXYAVOLA

- Vse Svyashchennye knigi - prichina Oshibochnyh Mnenij:

1. CHto chelovek raz®yat na Telo i Dushu.

2. CHto Dejstvie, to est' Zlo, ot Tela; a Mysl', to est' Dobro, ot Dushi.

3. CHto Bog budet vechno kaznit' CHeloveka za Dejstviya. No Istina - v
Protivopolozhnom:

1. Dusha i Telo nerazdelimy, ibo Telo - chastica Dushi i ego pyat' chuvstv
sut' ochi Dushi.

2. ZHizn' - eto Dejstvie i proishodit ot Tela, a Mysl' privyazana k
Dejstviyu i sluzhit emu obolochkoj.
3. Dejstvie - Vechnyj Vostorg.

-----

Those who restrain Desire, do so because theirs is weak enough to be
restrained; and the restrainer or Reason usurps its place and governs the
unwilling.
And being restrained, it by degrees becomes passive, till it is only
the shadow of Desire.
The history of this is written in _Paradise Lost_, and the Governor
or Reason is call'd Messiah.
And the original Archangel, or possessor of the command of the
Heavenly Host, is call'd the Devil or Satan, and his children are call'd Sin
and Death.
But in the Book of Job, Milton's Messiah is called Satan.
For this history has been adopted by both parties.
It indeed appear'd to Reason as if Desire was cast out; but the Devil's
account is, that the Messiah fell, and formed a Heaven of what he stole from
the Abyss.
This is shown in the Gospel, where he prays to the Father to send the
Comforter, or Desire, that Reason may have Ideas to build on; the Jehovah of
the Bible being no other than he who dwells in flaming fire.
Know that after Christ's death, he became Jehovah.
But in Milton, the Father is Destiny, the Son a Ratio of the five
senses, and the Holy-ghost Vacuum!
Note. The reason Milton wrote in fetters when he wrote of Angels and
God, and at liberty when of Devils and Hell, is because he was a true Poet,
and of the Devil's party without knowing it.

-----

Obuzdat' zhelanie mozhno, esli zhelanie slabo: togda mysl' vytesnyaet
zhelanie i pravit protivno chuvstvu.

Podavlennoe zhelanie lishaetsya voli i stanovitsya sobstvennoj ten'yu.
Ob etom nam povestvuet "Utrachennyj Raj" i "Gosudar'", gde Razum nazvan
Messiej.
A pervonachal'nyj Arhangel, strateg nebesnogo voinstva, nazvan D'yavolom
i Satanoj, a deti ego - Grehom i Smert'yu.

Tot, kogo Mil'ton nazval Messiej, v Knige Iova - Satana.
Ibo istoriyu Iova prinyali obe vrazhduyushchie storony.
Mysl' iskrenne preziraet ZHelanie, no D'yavol nas uveryaet, chto pal ne on,
a Messiya, i, pav, ustroil Raj iz togo, chto ukral v Adu.
Smotri Evangelie, gde Messiya molit Otca poslat' emu uteshitelya, to est'
ZHelanie, chtoby Mysl' ego obrela Podtverzhdenie; biblejskij Iegova ne kto
inoj, kak tot, kto zhivet v pylayushchem plameni.
Znaj, chto posle Hristovoj smerti on vnov' stal Iegovoj.
No Mil'ton schitaet Otca - Sud'boj, Syna - Vmestilishchem chuvstv, a Duha
Svyatogo - Pustotoj!
Zamet', chto Mil'ton v temnice pisal o Boge i Angelah, a na svobode - o
D'yavole i Geenne, ibo byl prirozhdennym Poetom i, sam ne znaya togo,
storonnikom D'yavola.

-----

A MEMORABLE FANCY

As I was walking among the fires of Hell, delighted with the enjoyments
of Genius, which to Angels look like torment and insanity, I collected some
of their Proverbs; thinking that as the sayings used in a nation mark its
character, so the Proverbs of Hell show the nature of Infernal wisdom better
than any description of buildings or garments.
When I came home, on the abyss of the five senses, where a flat- sided
steep frowns over the present world, I saw a mighty Devil, folded in black
clouds, hovering on the sides of the rock: with corroding fires he wrote the
following sentence now perceived by the minds of men, and read by them on
earth: -

_How do you know but ev'ry Bird that cuts the airy way,
Is an immense World of Delight, clos'd by your senses five_?

-----

PAMYATNYJ SON

YA shel sredi adskih ognej, i moe Vdohnoven'e kazalos' Angelam mukami ili
bezumiem; a ya sobiral Poslovicy, ibo esli rechen'ya naroda raskryvayut dushu
naroda, to Poslovicy Ada govoryat o mudrosti Preispodnej vernee, chem opisaniya
i rassuzhdeniya puteshestvennika.
Vernuvshis' domoj, nad bezdnoj pyati chuvstv, na hmuroj otvesnoj kruche nad
nyneshnim mirom ya uvidel v tuchah moguchego D'yavola - on ognem vysekal na kamne
to, chto segodnya otkryto lyudskomu umu:

Vam, lyudyam, ne uznat', chto v kazhdoj ptice na letu
Bezmernyj mir vostorga, nedostupnyj vashim chuvstvam!

-----

PROVERBS OF HELL

In seed time learn, in harvest teach, in winter enjoy.
Drive your cart and your plough over the bones of the dead.
The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom.
Prudence is a rich, ugly old maid courted by Incapacity.

He who desires but acts not, breeds pestilence.
The cut worm forgives the plough.
Dip him in the river who loves water.
A fool sees not the same tree that a wise man sees.

He whose face gives no light, shall never become a star.
Eternity is in love with the productions of time.
The busy bee has no time for sorrow.
The hours of folly are measur'd by the clock; but of wisdom, no clock
can measure.
All wholesome food is caught without a net or a trap.
Bring out number, weight, and measure in a year of dearth.
No bird soars too high, if he soars with his own wings.

A dead body revenges not injuries.
The most sublime act is to set another before you.
If the fool would persist in his folly he would become wise.
Folly is the cloak of knavery.
Shame is Pride's cloak.
Prisoners are built with stones of Law, brothels with bricks of
Religion.
The pride of the peacock is the glory of God.
The lust of the goat is the bounty of God.
The wrath of the lion is the wisdom of God.
The nakedness of woman is the work of God.
Excess of sorrow laughs. Excess of joy weeps.
The roaring of lions, the howling of wolves, the raging of the stormy
sea, and the destructive sword are portions of eternity too great for the
eye of man.
The fox condemns the trap, not himself.
Joys impregnate. Sorrows bring forth.
Let man wear the fell of the lion, woman the fleece of the sheep.
The bird a nest, the spider a web, man friendship.
The selfish, smiling fool, and the sullen, frowning fool shall be both
thought wise, that they may be a rod.
What is now proved was once only imagin'd.
The rat, the mouse, the fox, the rabbit watch the roots; the lion, the
tiger, the horse, the elephant watch the fruits.
The cistern contains: the fountain overflows.
One thought fills immensity.
Always be ready to speak your mind, and a base man will avoid you.
Everything possible to be believ'd is an image of truth.
The eagle never lost so much time as when he submitted to learn of the
crow.
The fox provides for himself; but God provides for the lion.
Think in the morning. Act in the noon. Eat in the evening. Sleep in the
night.
He who has suffer'd you to impose on him, knows you.
As the plough follows words, so God rewards prayers.
The tigers of wrath are wiser than the horses of instruction.
Expect poison from the standing water.
You never know what is enough unless you know what is more than enough.
Listen to the fool's reproach! it is a kingly title!
The eyes of fire, the nostrils of air, the mouth of water, the beard
of earth.
The weak in courage is strong in cunning.
The apple tree never asks the beech ftow he shall grow; nor the lion,
the horse, how he shall take his prey.
The thankful receiver bears a plentiful harvest.
If others had not been foolish, we should be so.
The soul of sweet delight can never be defil'd.
When thou seest an eagle, thou seest a portion of Genius; lift up thy
head!
As the caterpillar chooses the fairest leaves to lay her eggs on, so
the priest lays his curse on the fairest joys.
To create a little flower is the labour of ages.
Damn braces. Bless relaxes.
The best wine is the oldest, the best water the newest.

Prayers plough not! Praises reap not!
Joys laugh not! Sorrows weep not!
The head Sublime, the heart Pathos, the genitals Beauty, the hands and
feet Proportion.
As the air to a bird or the sea to a fish, so is contempt to the
contemptible.
The crow wish'd everything was black, the owl that everything was
white.
Exuberance is Beauty.
If the lion was advised by the fox, he would be cunning.
Improvement makes straight roads; but the crooked roads without
improvement are roads of Genius.
Sooner murder an infant in its cradle than nurse unacted desires.
Where man is not, nature is barren.
Truth can never be told so as to be understood, and not be believ'd.
Enough! or Too much.

-----

POSLOVICY ADA

Vo vremya poseva uchis', v zhatvu uchi, zimoj veselis'.
Prokladyvaj put' i vedi borozdu nad kostyami mertvyh.
Doroga izlishestv privodit k dvorcu mudrosti.
Nichtozhestvo ugozhdaet rasslablennomu bogachu po imeni Blagorazumie.
Bezdeyatel'noe zhelanie rozhdaet chumu.
CHerv', rassechennyj plugom, ne dolzhen vinit' plug.
Bros' v reku togo, kto p'et odnu vodu.
V odnom i tom zhe dereve glupec i mudrec najdut ne odno i to zhe.
Kto ne sposoben svetit', ne stanet zvezdoj.
Vechnost' - eto lyubov', zakalennaya vremenem.
Delovitoj pchele nedosug toskovat'.
CHasy izmeryayut vremya bezumiya, no ne mudrosti.

Zdorovuyu pishchu ne lovyat kapkanom ili silkom.
V golod tvoi druz'ya - mera, chislo i ves.
Ptica na sobstvennyh kryl'yah ne vzletit chereschur vysoko.
Mertvyj ne mstit za obidy.
Blagorodnyj stavit soseda vyshe sebya.
Uporstvuya v gluposti, glupec stanovitsya mudrym.
Glupost' - odezhda Lukavstva.
Pozor - odeyanie Gordosti.
Tyur'my stroyat iz kamnej Zakona, Doma Terpimosti - iz kirpichej Religii.
Krasota Pavlina - slava Bozh'ya.
Pohot' kozla - shchedrost' Bozh'ya.
Svirepost' l'va - mudrost' Bozh'ya.
Nagota zhenshchiny - tvoren'e Bozh'e.
Ot izbytka gorya smeyutsya, a ot izbytka radosti plachut.
L'vinyj ryk, volchij voj, yarost' buri i zhalo klinka sut' chasticy
vechnosti, slishkom velikoj dlya glaza lyudskogo.

Lisa v kapkane klyanet ne sebya, no kapkan.
Radost' obremenyaet. Gore razreshaet ot bremeni.
Dlya muzha - l'vinaya shkura, dlya zheny - ovech'e runo.

Ptice - gnezdo, pauku - pautina, cheloveku - druzhba.
Veselyj dobryj durak i hmuryj zlobnyj durak sojdut za umnyh, derzha v
ruke rozgi.
Segodnyashnyaya istina prezhde byla lish' dogadkoj.
Krysa, mysh', lisa i krolik vidyat korni; lev, tigr, loshad' i slon vidyat
plody.
Prud kopit vodu, ruchej rastochaet.
Odnoyu mysl'yu mozhno zapolnit' beskrajnost'.
Govori otkrovenno, i lzhec ot tebya ubezhit.

Vse dostojnoe very est' obraz istiny.
Uchas' u vorony, orel tol'ko gubit vremya.

Lisa kormit sebya, l'va kormit Bog.

Dumaj utrom. Dejstvuj dnem. Esh' vecherom. Spi noch'yu.

Tot, kto tebe podchinilsya, poznal tebya.
Kak plug podchinyaetsya slovu, tak Bog slyshit molitvu.
Tigry gneva mudrej loshadej pouchen'ya.
Znaj, chto v stoyachej vode otrava.
Ne uznaesh' mery, poka ne uznal izbytka.

Vnimat' upreku glupca dostojno carya!
Ochi ognya, nozdri vozduha, guby vody, boroda zemli.

Slabyj muzhestvom silen hitrost'yu.
YAsen' ne uchit yablonyu rostu; loshad' ne uchit l'va ohote.

Blagodarnost' prinosit obil'nuyu zhatvu.
Esli kto-to spassya ot gluposti, znachit, i my mozhem.
Dushevnuyu blagodat' nel'zya zamarat'.
Vidya Orla, vidish' chasticu Geniya: vyshe golovu!

Gusenica oskvernyaet luchshie list'ya, svyashchennik oskvernyaet chistejshie
radosti.
CHtoby sozdat' cvetok, nuzhna rabota vekov.
Proklyatie skovyvaet, Blagoslovenie osvobozhdaet.
Vino - chem starshe, tem luchshe; voda - chem svezhej, tem luchshe.
Molitvy ne seyut! Gimny ne zhnut!
Radosti ne smeyutsya! Pechali ne plachut!
V myslyah Parenie, v serdce Sostradanie, v chreslah Krasota, v nogah i
rukah Sorazmernost'.
Nebo - ptice, more - rybe, prezren'e - prezrennym.

Vorona hotela, chtob mir pochernel, sova - chtob on pobelel.

V Izlishestve - Krasota.
Esli b lisa pouchala l'va, on by sdelalsya hitrym.
CHelovek vypryamlyaet krivye puti; Genij idet krivymi.

Luchshe ubit' ditya v kolybeli, chem sderzhivat' bujnye strasti.
Gde net cheloveka, priroda pustynna.
Lyudi ne primut pravdy, esli pojmut ee, no ne poveryat.

Dovol'no! - to zhe samoe, chto: CHereschur!

-----

The ancient Poets animated all sensible objects with Gods or Geniuses,
calling them by the names and adorning them with the properties of woods,
rivers, mountains, lakes, cities, nations, and whatever their enlarged and
numerous senses could perceive.
And particularly they studied the Genius of each city and country,
placing it under its Mental Deity;
Till a System was formed, which some took advantage of, and enslav'd
the vulgar by attempting to realise or abstract the Mental Deities from
their objects-thus began Priesthood;

Choosing forms of worship from poetic'tales.
And at length they pronounc'd that the Gods had order'd such things.
Thus men forgot that All Deities reside in the Human breast.

-----

Poety drevnosti odushevlyali predmety vokrug sebya, videli v nih Bogov ili
Geniev, zvali ih po imenam i ukrashali ih dostoyaniem gor, lesov, ozer,
gorodov, narodov, ibo mir oni vosprinimali shire i glubzhe, chem my.
Oni pristal'no izuchali geniya kazhdogo goroda i strany i nahodili emu
mesto v svite vymyshlennogo bozhestva.
I voznikla kartina miroporyadka; no korystnye lyudi stremilis'
predstavit' vo ploti vymyshlennye bozhestva, i otreshit' ih ot zrimyh
predmetov, i etim porabotit' doverchivyh i nerazumnyh: tak voznikli
Svyashchennosluzhiteli;
Oni sozdavali obryady iz mifov, sochinennyh poetami.
I nakonec ob®yavili, chto vse na zemle sotvorili Bogi.

I lyudi zabyli, chto Vse bozhestva zhivut v ih grudi.

-----

A MEMORABLE FANCY

The Prophets Isaiah and Ezekiel dined with me, and I asked them how
they dared so roundly to assert that God spoke to them; and whether they did
not think at the time that they would be misunderstood, and so be the cause
of imposition.
Isaiah answer'd: 'I saw no God, nor heard any, in a finite organical
perception; but my senses discover'd the infinite in everything, and as I
was then persuaded, and remain confirm'd, that the voice of honest
indignation is the voice of God, I cared not for consequences, but wrote.'
Then I asked: 'Does a firm persuasion that a thing is so, make it so?'
He replied: 'All Poets believe that it does, and in ages of imagination
this firm persuasion removed mountains; but many are not capable of a firm
persuasion of anything.'
Then Ezekiel said: 'The philosophy of the East taught the first
principles of human perception. Some nations held one principle for the
origin, and some another: we of Israel taught that the Poetic Genius (as you
now call it) was the first principle and all the others merely derivative,
which was the cause of our despising the Priests and Philosophers of other
countries, and prophesying that all Gods would at last be proved to
originate in ours and to be the tributaries of the Poetic Genius. It was
this that our great poet, King David, desired so fervently and invokes so
pathetically, saying by this he conquers enemies and governs kingdoms; and
we so loved our God, that we cursed in his name all the Deities of
surrounding nations, and asserted that they had rebelled. From these
opinions the vulgar came to think that all nations would at last be subject
to the Jews.'
'This,' said he, 'like all firm persuasions, is come to pass; for all
nations believe the Jews' code and worship the Jews' god, and what greater
subjection can be?'
I heard this with some wonder, and must confess my own conviction.
After dinner I ask'd Isaiah to favour the world with his lost works; he said
none of equal value was lost. Ezekiel said the same of his.

I also asked Isaiah what made him go naked and barefoot three years. He
answer'd: 'The same that made our friend Diogenes, the Grecian.'
I then asked Ezekiel why he ate dung, and lay so long on his right
and left side. He answer'd, 'The desire of raising other men into a
perception of the infinite: this the North American tribes practise, and is
he honest who resists his genius or conscience only for the sake of present
ease or gratification?'

-----

PAMYATNYJ SON

Proroki Isajya i Iezekiil' delili so mnoj trapezu, i ya sprosil, kak oni
otvazhilis' utverzhdat', chto Sam Bog govoril s nimi, i ne boyalis', chto neverno
ponyatye slova ih rodyat prinuzhden'e i lozh'.
Isajya otvetil: "YA ne slyhal Boga ushami i ne vidal glazami, no chuvstva
moi nashli beskonechnost' v kazhdom predmete, i ya uveroval, chto golos
pravednogo gneva est' glas Bozhij, i, ne dumaya o posledstviyah, napisal
knigu".
Togda ya sprosil: "Sposobna li vera v svoyu pravotu pretvorit' etu veru v
Istinu?"
Ot otvetil: "Vse poety stoyat na etom, i nekogda vera sdvigala gory, no
ne mnogim dano uverovat'".

Togda Iezekiil' skazal: "Filosofiya Vostoka uchila pervoosnovam
vospriyatiya mira: odni narody izbrali odnu osnovu, drugie druguyu; my, iudei,
uchili, chto pervoosnova - Poeticheskij Genij (ya pol'zuyus' vashimi slovami), a
drugie osnovy vtorichny; poetomu my prezirali inozemnyh Svyashchennikov i
Filosofov i prorochestvovali, chto vse ubedyatsya v pervichnosti nashego Boga,
Poeticheskogo Geniya; etogo zhadno zhazhdal nash velikij poet Car' David, ibo
zhelal pobezhdat' vragov i uderzhivat' carstva Poeziej; my lyubili nashego Boga i
otvergali bogov sopredel'nyh narodov, i nevezhdy reshili, chto my hotim
pokorit' vse narody.

Nasha vera sdelalas' zhizn'yu: narody chtut iudejskie knigi i molyatsya
iudejskomu bogu - kogo zhe nam pokoryat'?"

YA slushal ih s udivleniem i poveril v ih pravotu. Posle trapezy ya
poprosil Isajyu vernut' miru utrachennye knigi: on skazal, chto ni odna vazhnaya
kniga ne utrachena. To zhe skazal Iezekiil'.
Potom ya sprosil Isajyu, chto zastavilo ego tri goda hodit' nagim i bosym.
On otvetil: "To zhe, chto nashego druga greka Diogena".
Togda ya sprosil Iezekiilya, otchego on el navoz i tak dolgo lezhal na
levom i pravom boku? On otvetil: "YA zhelal, chtoby lyudi ponyali smysl
beskonechnosti; to zhe delayut i indejcy Ameriki; da i chesten li tot, kto
protivitsya svoemu geniyu ili sovesti radi miga pokoya i udovol'stviya?"

-----

The ancient tradition that the; world will be consumed in fire at the
end of six thousand years is true^as I have heard from Hell.
For the cherub with his flaming sword is hereby commanded to leave his
guard at tree of life; and when he does, the whole creation will be consumed
and appear infinite and holy, whereas it now appears finite and corrupt.
This will come to pass by an improvement of sensual enjoyment.
But first the notion that man has a body distinct from his soul is to
be expunged; this I shall do by printing in the infernal method, by
corrosives, which in Hell are salutary and medicinal, melting apparent
surfaces away, and displaying the infinite which was hid.

If the doors of perception were cleansed everything would appear to man
as it is, infinite.
For man has closed himself up till he sees all things thro' narrow
chinks of his cavern.

-----

Istinna drevnyaya vera v to, chto mir v konce shesti tysyach let pogibnet v
ogne, - tak mne skazali v Adu.
Ibo kogda Heruvim s plameneyushchim mechom ostavit strazhu u dreva zhizni, vse
tvorenie ispepelitsya i stanet svyatym i vechnym, kak nyne grehovno i tlenno.

Put' zhe k etomu - cherez ochishchenie radostej ploti.

Dlya nachala dokazhem, chto dusha i telo nerazdelimy; i ya budu vytravlivat'
mysli moi na metalle kislotami, koi v Adu spasitel'ny i celebny, ibo oni
raz®edayut poverhnost' predmetov i obnazhayut skrytuyu v nih beskonechnost'.

Esli b vrata poznaniya byli otkryty, lyudyam otkrylas' by beskonechnost'.
No lyudi ukrylis' ot mira i vidyat ego lish' v uzkie shcheli svoih peshcher.

-----

A MEMORABLE FANCY

I was in a Printing-house in Hell, and saw the method in which
knowledge is transmitted from generation to generation.

In the first chamber was a Dragon-Man, clearing away the rubbish from a
cave's mouth; within, a number of Dragons were hollowing the cave.
In the second chamber was a Viper folding round the rock and the cave,
and others adorning it with gold, silver, and precious stones.
In the third chamber was an Eagle with wings and feathers of air: he
caused the inside of the cave to be infinite. Around were numbers of
Eagle-like men who built palaces in the immense cliffs.
In the fourth chamber were Lions of flaming fire, raging around and
melting the metals into living fluids.
In the fifth chamber were Unnamed forms, which cast the metals into the
expanse.
There they were received by Men who occupied the sixth chamber, and
took the forms of books and were arranged in libraries.

-----

PAMYATNYJ SON

V pechatne Ada ya videl, kak znaniya perehodyat ot pokoleniya k pokoleniyu.

V pervoj komnate CHelovek-Drakon vymetal musor s poroga, kuda ego
vynosili drugie Drakony.

Vo vtoroj - vdol' sten vygibalsya Zmej, i ego ukrashali serebrom, zolotom
i kamen'yami.

V tret'ej - Orel s vozdushnymi kryl'yami utverzhdal beskonechnosti Ada, a
vokrug nego Lyudi-Orly vysekali dvorcy v bespredel'nyh skalah.

V chetvertoj - L'vy ognennym zharom dyhaniya prevrashchali metally v tekuchie
zhidkosti.

Iz pyatoj Bezymyannye sushchestva prolivali eti metally v shestuyu.

V shestoj - ih vbirali Lyudi, rasstavlennye po polkam, kak knigi.

-----

The Giants who formed this world into its sensual existence, and now
seem to live in it in chains, are in truth the causes of its life and the
sources of all activity; but the chains are the cunning of weak and tame
minds which have power to resist energy. According to the proverb, the weak
in courage is strong in cunning.

Thus one portion of being is the Prolific, the other the Devouring. To
the Devourer it seems as if the producer was in his chains; but it is not
so, he only takes portions of existence and fancies that the whole.
But the Prolific would cease to be Prolific unless the Devourer, as a
sea, received the excess of his delights.
Some will say: 'Is not God alone the Prolific?' I answer: 'God only
Acts and Is, in existing beings or Men.'
These two classes of men are always upon earth, and they should be
enemies: whoever tries to reconcile them seeks to destroy existence.

Religion is an endeavour to reconcile the two.
_Note_. Jesus Christ did not wish to unite, but to separate them, as in
the Parable of sheep and goats! And He says: 'I came not to send Peace, but
a Sword.'

Messiah or Satan or Tempter was formerly thought to be one of the
Antediluvians who are our Energies.

-----

Sozdavshie mir i nyne kak budto okovannye cepyami mira Giganty sut'
prichiny zhizni i istochniki dejstvij; no cepi - vsego lish' hitrost' slabyh,
pokornyh umov, kotorym dostalo sily soprotivlyat'sya sile; kak glasit
poslovica: slabyj muzhestvom silen hitrost'yu.

Bytie sozdaet Izobilie i Pogloshchenie; Pogloshchenie mnit, chto derzhit v
cepyah Izobilie, no na dele beret nichtozhnuyu dolyu, prinimaya ee za celoe.

No Izobilie istoshchitsya, esli izbytok ego vostorgov ne budet tonut' v
moryah Pogloshcheniya.
Kto-to sprosit: "Razve ne v Boge odnom Izobilie?" YA otvechu: "Bog
sushchestvuet i dejstvuet tol'ko v Lyudyah".
Storonniki Izobiliya i storonniki Pogloshcheniya zhivut na zemle i vechno
vrazhduyut: kto staraetsya ih primirit', ubivaet zhizn'.
Ih staraetsya primirit' Religiya.
Zamet': Iisus Hristos ne soedinyal, no razdelyal, i v Pritche ob agncah i
kozlishchah on govorit: "Ne Mir prishel YA prinesti, no Mech".

Messiya, on zhe Satana, on zhe Iskusitel' - ne dopotopnaya Drevnost', no
nyneshnyaya nasha Sila.

-----

A MEMORABLE FANCY

An Angel came to me and said: 'O pitiable, foolish young man! O
horrible! O dreadful state! Consider the hot, burning dungeon thou art
preparing for thyself to all Eternity, to which thou art going in such
career.'
I said: 'Perhaps you will be willing to show me my eternal lot, and
we will contemplate together upon it, and see whether your lot or mine is
most desirable.'
So he took me thro' a stable, and thro' a church, and down into the
church vault, at the end of which was a mill. Thro' the mill we went, and
came to a cave. Down the winding cavern we groped our tedious way, till a
void boundless as a nether sky appear'd beneath us, and we held by the roots
of trees, and hung over this immensity. But I said: 'If you please, we will
commit ourselves to this void, and see whether Providence is here also. If
you will not, I will.' But he answer'd: 'Do not presume, O young man, but as
we here remain, behold thy lot which will soon appear when the darkness
passes away.'
So I remain'd with him, sitting in the twisted root of an oak. He was
suspended in a fungus, which hung with the head downward into the deep.
By degrees we beheld the infinite Abyss, fiery as the smoke of a
burning city; beneath us, at an immense distance, was the sun, black but
shining; round it were fiery tracks on which revolv'd vast spiders,
crawling after their prey, which flew, or rather swum, in the infinite deep,
in the most terrific shapes of animals sprung from corruption; and the air
was full of them, and seem'd composed of them-these are Devils, and are
called Powers of the Air. I now asked my companion which was my eternal lot?
He said: 'Between the black and white spiders.'
But now, from between the black and white spiders, a cloud and fire
burst and rolled thro' the deep, blackening all beneath; so that the nether
deep grew black as a sea, and rolled with a terrible noise. Beneath us was
nothing now to be seen but a black tempest, till looking East between the
clouds and the waves we saw a cataract of blood mixed with fire, and not
many stones' throw from us appear'd and sunk again the scaly fold of a
monstrous serpent. At last, to the East, distant about three degrees,
appear'd a fiery crest above the waves. Slowly it reared like a ridge of
golden rocks, till we discover'd two globes of crimson fire, from which the
sea fled away in clouds of smoke; and now we saw it was the head of
Leviathan. His forehead was divided into streaks of green and purple like
those on a tiger's forehead. Soon we saw his mouth and red gills hang just
above the raging foam, tinging the black deep with beams of blood, advancing
toward us with all the fury of a Spiritual Existence.

-----

PAMYATNYJ SON

Angel soshel ko mne i skazal: "O zhalkij bezumec! O merzkij! O gibnushchij!
ZHizn'yu svoej ty sebe ugotovil v vechnosti ognennuyu preispodnyuyu".

YA otvetil: "Pokazhi mne moyu sud'bu, i my vmeste reshim, chej zhrebij luchshe,
moj ili tvoj".

On povel menya skvoz' konyushnyu, i cerkov', i sklep, i v konce byla
mel'nica; my proshli iz nee v peshcheru, i tomitel'no dolgo spuskalis'
izvilistym podzemel'em, i vot uvideli pod soboj pustotu, beskrajnyuyu, kak
oprokinutye nebesa, i na kornyah rastenij povisli nad pustotoj; ya skazal:
"Brosimsya v pustotu i posmotrim, est' li v nej providenie, - esli ne hochesh',
ya broshus' odin". On otvetil: "Smiris', yunec, kogda rasstupitsya t'ma, my i
otsyuda uvidim tvoj zhrebij".

I ya ostalsya sidet' na izognutom korne duba, a on derzhalsya za moh,
svisavshij s obryva.

My rassmotreli beskrajnyuyu Bezdnu, yarostnuyu, kak dym goryashchego goroda;
vnizu beskonechno daleko ot nas svetilo chernoe solnce; vokrug chernyh luchej
ego vrashchalis', lovya dobychu, chernye pauki, zloveshchie tvari, rozhdennye tleniem;
oni leteli, ili, vernee, plyli, v bezdonnyh glubinah, i vozduh byl tak
nasyshchen imi, chto kazalos', iz nih sostoit: eto D'yavoly; i zovut ih Silami
vozduha. YA sprosil moego sputnika, v chem zhe moj vechnyj zhrebij. On otvetil:
"Byt' v seredine mezh chernymi i belymi paukami".
No iz serediny mezh chernymi i belymi paukami vyrvalis' tucha i plamya, i
glub' pochernela, kak more, i pokatilas' s uzhasnym revom; chernaya burya vse
skryla ot glaz, lish' na vostoke s neba v more spadal vodopad iz krovi s
ognem, i na rasstoyanii neskol'kih broshennyh kamnej poyavilas' i vnov'
pogruzilas' vo mrak cheshuya chudovishcha; i voznik nad vojnami yarostnyj greben'
drakona, on podnimalsya, kak zolotistyj greben' gory; i dve sfery alogo
plameni razognali tuchi i dym: my uvideli purpurnuyu i zelenuyu golovu
Leviafana, polosatuyu, kak golova tigra; my uvideli ego past' nad klokochushchej
penoj i zhabry, struivshie krov' v chernuyu glubinu; on ustremilsya k nam s
neistovstvom gneva.

-----

My friend the Angel climb'd up from his station into the mill: I
remain'd alone, and then this appearance was no more; but I found myself
sitting on a pleasant bank beside a river, by moonlight, hearing a harper,
who sung to the harp; and his theme was: "The man who never alters his
opinion is like standing water, and breeds reptiles of the mind.'
But I arose and sought for the mill, and there I found my Angel, who,
surprised, asked me how I escaped.
I answer'd: 'All that we saw was owing to your metaphysics; for when
you ran away, I found myself on a bank by moonlight hearing a harper. But
now we have seen my eternal lot, shall I show you yours?' He laugh'd at my
proposal; but I, by force, suddenly caught him in my arms, and flew westerly
thro' the night, till we were elevated above the earth's shadow; then I
flung myself with him directly into the body of the sun. Here I clothed
myself in white, and taking in my hand Swedenborg's volumes, sunk from the
glorious clime, and passed all the planets till we came to Saturn. Here I
stay'd to rest, and then leap'd into the void between Saturn and the fixed
stars.
'Here,' said I, 'is your lot, in this space-if space it may be call'd.'
Soon we saw the stable and the church, and I took him to the altar and
open'd the Bible, and lo! it was a deep pit, into which I descended,
driving the Angel before me. Soon we saw seven houses of brick. One we
enter'd; in it were a number of monkeys, baboons, and all of that species,
chain'd by the middle, grinning and snatching at one another, but withheld
by the shortness of their chains. However, I saw that they sometimes grew
numerous, and then the weak were caught by the strong, and with a grinning
aspect, first coupled with, and then devour'd, by plucking off first one
limb and then another, till the body was left a helpless trunk. This, after
grinning and kissing it with seeming fondness, they devour'd too; and here
and there I saw one savourily picking the flesh off of his own tail. As the
stench terribly annoy'd us both, we went into the mill, and I in my hand
brought the skeleton of a body, which in the mill was Aristotle's Analytics.
So the Angel said: 'Thy phantasy has imposed upon me, and thou
oughtest to be ashamed.'
I answer'd: 'We impose on one another, and it is but lost time to
converse with you whose works are only Analytics.'

-----

Drug moj Angel bezhal na mel'nicu; ya ostalsya odin, i videnie vdrug
ischezlo; ya sidel u priyatnoj reki v lunnom svete i slushal arfu i pesnyu: "Ne
sklonnyj k peremenam um - stoyachaya voda, v voobrazhenii ego - nechistyh gadov
roj".

YA prishel na mel'nicu k Angelu; on udivilsya mne i sprosil, kak ya spassya.
YA otvetil: "Ty pokazal mne plody svoej metafiziki: kogda ty bezhal, ya
ostalsya pri lunnom svete vozle reki i slushal penie. Ty pokazal mne moj
vechnyj zhrebic, a ya pokazhu tebe tvoj". On zasmeyalsya, no ya obhvatil ego, i my
poleteli na zapad skvoz' noch' vyshe teni zemnoj i opustilis' na solnce, i ya
oblachilsya v beloe, i, zahvativ toma Svedenborga, pokinul stranu siyaniya, i
minoval vse planety, i my prileteli k Saturnu: ya otdohnul i rinulsya v bezdnu
mezhdu Saturnom i nepodvizhnymi zvezdami.

YA skazal: "Tvoj zhrebij - v etih predelah, esli zdes' predel". I vnov'
pered nami byla konyushnya i cerkov', i ya podvel Angela k altaryu i raskryl
Bibliyu, i - o, chudo! - eto byl vhod v podzemel'e, i ya pognal po nemu Angela
k semi kirpichnym domam i vvel v odin dom; martyshki i obez'yany v nem,
skalyas', brosalis' drug na druga, naskol'ko puskali ih cepi, sil'nye,
uhvativ slabyh, otgryzali im nogi i ruki, obladali bespomoshchnymi telami i
totchas ih pozhirali; i my ot smrada sbezhali na mel'nicu, i ya prines s soboyu
skelet, kotoryj byl "Analitikoj" Aristotelya.

Angel skazal: "Stydis', ty pokazal mne svoj bred". YA otvetil: "My oba
pokazali drug drugu svoj bred, no ya ne budu popustu sporit' s toboj, ibo
tvoj trud - "Analitika". V Protivoborstve sut' istinnoj Druzhby.

-----

I have always found that Angels have the vanity to speak of themselves
as the Only Wise. This they do with a confident insolence sprouting from
systematic reasoning.
Thus Swedenborg boasts that what he writes is new; tho' it is only
the Contents or Index of already publish'd books.
A man carried a monkey about for a show, and because he was a little
wiser than the monkey, grew vain, and conceiv'd himself as much wiser than
seven men. It is so with Swedenborg: he shows the folly of churches, and
exposes hypocrites, till he imagines that all are religious, and himself the
single one on earth that ever broke a net.
Now hear a plain fact: Swedenborg has not written one new truth. Now
hear another: he has written all the old falsehoods.
And now hear the reason. He conversed with Angels who are all
religious, and conversed not with Devils who all hate religion, for he was
incapable thro' his conceited notions.
Thus Swedenborg's writings are a recapitulation of all superficial
opinions, and an analysis of the more sublime-but no further.
Have now another plain fact. Any man of mechanical talents may, from
the writings of Paracelsus or Jacob Behmen, produce ten thousand volumes of
equal value with Swedenborg's, and from those of Dante or Shakespear an
infinite number.
But when he has done this, let him not say that he knows better than
his master, for he only holds a candle in sunshine.

-----

YA vsegda zamechal, chto Angely pochitayut mudrymi tol'ko sebya; ih
samomnenie - plod postoyannogo umstvovaniya.

I Svedenborg hvastaet tem, chto vse sochinennoe im novo, a na dele ono -
Svod vyzhimok iz starinnyh knig.
CHelovek vodil napokaz obez'yanu, ibo byl nemnogo umnee ee, no on
vozgordilsya i pochel sebya mnogo umnee semeryh mudrecov. Takov Svedenborg: on
pokazal grehovnost' cerkvej i lozh' licemerov i vozomnil, chto on odin na
zemle vyrvalsya iz setej religii.
Vo-pervyh, Svedenborg ne otkryl ni odnoj novoj istiny. Vo-vtoryh, ego
sochineniya - staraya lozh'.
I vot prichina: Svedenborg besedoval s Angelami, kotorye lyubyat religiyu,
no tshcheslavie ne pozvolilo emu besedovat' s D'yavolami, kotorye ee nenavidyat.
Poetomu Svedenborg povtoryaet chuzhie mneniya i issleduet lish' nebesa - no
ne bol'she.
I vsyakij posredstvennyj chelovek sposoben iz knig Paracel'sa i YAkoba
Beme proizvesti desyat' tysyach tomov ravnoj cennosti so Svedenborgom, a iz
knig SHekspira i Dante - beschislennoe ih mnozhestvo.
No, tak postupiv, pust' ne skazhet, chto prevzoshel svoih uchitelej, ibo on
vsego lish' derzhit svechu pri solnechnom svete.

-----

A MEMORABLE FANCY

Once I saw a Devil in a flame of fire, who arose before an Angel that
sat on a cloud, and the Devil utter'd these words: -
'The worship of God is: Honouring his gifts in other men, each
according to his genius, and loving the greatest men best: those who envy or
calumniate great men hate God; for there is no other God.'

The Angel hearing this became almost blue; but mastering himself he
grew yellow, and at last white, pink, and smiling, and then replied: -
'Thou Idolater! is not God One? and is not he visible in Jesus
Christ? and has not Jesus Christ given his sanction to the law of ten
commandments? and are not all other men fools, sinners, and nothings?'

The Devil answer'd: 'Bray a fool in a mortar with wheat, yet shall not
his folly be beaten out of him. If Jesus Christ is the greatest man, you
ought to love Him in the greatest degree. Now hear how He has given His
sanction to the law of ten commandments. Did He not mock at the sabbath, and
so mock the sabbath's God; murder those who were murder'd because of Him;
turn away the law from the woman taken in adultery; steal the labour of
others to support Him; bear false witness when He omitted making a defence
before Pilate; covet when He pray'd for His disciples, and when He bid them
shake off the dust of their feet against such as refused to lodge them? I
tell you, no virtue can exist without breaking these ten commandments. Jesus
was all virtue, and acted from impulse, not from rules.'

When he had so spoken, I beheld the Angel, who stretched out his arms,
embracing the flame of fire, and he was consumed, and arose as Elijah.
_Note_. - This Angel, who is now become a Devil, is my particular
friend. We often read the Bible together in its infernal or diabolical
sense, which the world shall have if they behave well.

I have also The Bible of Hell, which the world shall have whether they
will or no.

-----

PAMYATNYJ SON

Odnazhdy ya videl, kak Angel sidel na oblake i pered nim vosstal D'yavol v
plameni i skazal:
"Poklonyat'sya Bogu - znachit chtit' dary ego v lyudyah, otdavat' kazhdomu
dolzhnoe i bol'she drugih lyubit' velikih lyudej: kto zaviduet i vozvodit hulu
na velikih, tot nenavidit Boga, ibo net vo vselennoj inogo Boga".
Angel sdelalsya sinim, no sovladal s soboj, i sdelalsya zheltym, belym i,
nakonec, rozovym, i s ulybkoj otvetil:
"O tvorec Kumirov! Razve Bog ne Odin? Razve on vo ploti ne yavlyalsya
Iisusom Hristom? Razve Iisus Hristos ne dal nam desyat' zapovedej? Razve
prochie lyudi ne bezumcy, greshniki i nichtozhestva? "
D'yavol otvetil: "Rastolki bezumca v stupe s pshenicej, i bezumie otletit
ot nego. Raz Iisus Hristos byl samym velikim chelovekom, ty dolzhen lyubit' ego
bol'she, chem vseh ostal'nyh chelovekov. Podumaj zhe, kak on dal svoi desyat'
zapovedej. Razve ne nasmehalsya on nad subbotoyu i Bogom subboty? Razve ne
ubival teh, kto ubity vo imya ego? Razve ne otvratil zakon ot bludnicy?
Razve ne kral chuzhoj trud na propitan'e sebe? Razve ne lzhesvidetel'stvoval,
kogda ne stal zashchishchat' sebya pered Pilatom? Razve ne soblaznyalsya, kogda
molilsya ob uchenikah i kogda povelel im otryasti prah ot nog, vyhodya iz doma
togo, kto ne prinyal ih? YA govaryu: dobrodetel' vsegda narushaet zapovedi.
Iisus - dobrodetel' i dejstvoval ot dushi, a ne po zakonam".
I tut ya uvidel, kak Angel proster svoi ruki, i obnyal plamya, i ischez v
nem, i voznessya, kak Iliya.

Zamet': etot Angel stal D'yavolom i nyne moj luchshij drug; my chasto
vmeste chitaem bibliyu i nahodim v nej infernal'nyj, ili d'yavol'skij, smysl, i
mir ego uznaet, esli togo zasluzhit.

I eshche u menya est' Bibliya Ada, i smysl ee mir uznaet, hochet on togo ili
net.

-----

One Law for the Lion and Ox is Oppression.

Tomlenie - obshchij zakon dlya L'va i Vola.

A SONG OF LIBERTY

1. The Eternal Female groan'd! it was heard over all the Earth.

2. Albion's coast is sick, silent; the American meadows faint!

3. Shadows of Prophecy shiver along by the lakes and the rivers; and
mutter across the ocean: France, rend down thy dungeon!

4. Golden Spain, burst the barriers of old Rome!

5. Cast thy keys, O Rome, into the deep down falling, even to eternity
down falling.

6. And weep.

7. In her trembling hand she took the new born terror, howling.

8. On those infinite mountains of light, now barr'd out by the Atlantic
sea, the new born fire stood before the starry king!

9. Flag'd with grey brow'd snows and thunderous visages, the jealous
wings wav'd over the deep.

10. The speary hand burned aloft, unbuckled was the shield; forth went
the hand of jealousy among the flaming hair, and hurl'd the new born wonder
thro' the starry night.

11. The fire, the fire is falling!

12. Look up! look up! O citizen of London, enlarge thy countenance! O
Jew, leave counting gold! return to thy oil and wine. O African! black
African! (go, winged thought, widen his forehead.)

13. The fiery limbs, the flaming hair, shot like the sinking sun into
the western sea.

14. Wak'd from his eternal sleep, the hoary element roaring fled away.

15. Down rush'd, beating his wings in vain, the jealous king; his grey
brow'd councellors, thunderous warriors, curl'd veterans, among helms, and
shields, and chariots, horses, elephants, banners, castles, slings, and
rocks.

16. Falling, rushing, running! buried in the ruins, on Urthona's dens;

17. All night beneath the ruins; then, their sullen flames faded,
emerge round the gloomy king.

18. With thunder and fire, leading his starry hosts thro' the waste
wilderness, he promulgates his ten commands, glancing his beamy eye-lids
over the deep in dark dismay.

19. Where the son of fire in his eastern cloud, while the morning
plumes her golden breast,

20. Spurning the clouds written with curses, stamps the stony law to
dust, loosing the eternal horses from the dens of night, crying:

EMPIRE IS NO MORE!
AND NOW THE LION & WOLF SHALL CEASE

Chorus

Let the Priests of the Raven of dawn no longer, in deadly black, with
hoarse note curse the sons of joy. Nor his accepted brethren - whom, tyrant,
he calls free-lay the bound or build the roof. Nor pale religious letchery
call that virginity that wishes but acts not!

For every thing that lives is Holy.

PESNX SVOBODY

1. Vozopila Vechnaya ZHenstvennost'! Ves' Mir uslyhal ee.

2. No breg Al'biona bezmolven; luga Ameriki daleki!

3. Zyblyutsya teni Prorochestva po ozeram i rekam, vzyvayut cherez
Atlantiku: Razrush' temnicu, o Franciya!

4. Zolotaya Ispaniya, rvi okovy vethogo Rima!

5. I ty, o Rim, bros' klyuchi svoi v bezdnu, da kanut v vechnost'.

6. Zarydaj i skloni pochtennuyu sedinu.

7. Ibo novorozhdennyj uzhas vzyala ZHenstvennost' v slabye ruki i ukazala:

8. Na beskrajnih nagor'yah siyan'ya, za okeanom - novorozhdennoe plamya
vosstalo pred okom alchnogo korolya.

9. V hmuryh snegah i groznyh viden'yah voron'i kryl'ya vzvilis' nad
puchinoj.

10. No ruka s zanesennym kop'em gorit, ruhnul shchit; vzmetnulas' ruka
alchnosti k vspyhnuvshim volosam i otbrosila v zvezdnuyu noch' novorozhdennoe
divo.

11. Plamya, plamya s nebes!

12. Vvys', vvys' glyadite! Uvid', chto tvoritsya v mire, o gorozhanin
Londona! Bros' schitat' zolotye monety, o Iudej, vernis' k biblejskomu ladanu
i vinu! O Afrikanec! O chernyj Afrikanec! (Leti, krylataya mysl', rasshir' emu
razum.)

13. Ruki i volosy v plameni, slovno vechernee solnce, skrylis' v
zapadnom more.

14. Narushen vechnyj son drevnej stihii, s revom ona unositsya proch':

15. Ruhnul alchnyj korol', tshchetno kryl'yami bil on; sedye ego sovetniki,
groznye voiny, drognuvshie veterany sred' shlemov, shchitov, kolesnic, konej,
slonov i znamen, krepostej, lukov i strel

16. Mechutsya, padayut, gibnut! Pogrebeny pod ruinami v podzemel'yah
Urtony;

17. Vsyu noch' pod ruinami; issyaklo mrachnoe plamya, tolpyatsya oni vkrug
ugryumogo Korolya.

18. V ogne i grome vedet on ordy besplodnoj pustynej, provozglashaet
desyat' voron'ih zapovedej, no v chernom unynii iz-pod vek kositsya on na
vostok,

19. Gde v zlatoperom oblachke utra syn plameni

20. Razgonyaet tuchi, ischerchennye proklyat'yami, vozdvigaet stolp zakona na
prahe, vypuskaet iz podzemelij nochi konej vechnosti i vozglashaet:

IMPERIYA UMERLA!
OTNYNE SGINUT I LEV I VOLK!

Pripev

O ZHrecy voron'ego utra, teper' chernota vasha ne smertonosna, ne hulite zh
synov vesel'ya! O priemnye brat'ya Vorona, - vas on, tiran, imenuet
svobodnymi, - ne vozdvigajte sten, ne skryvajte kryshami nebesa! O blednyj
cerkovnyj razvrat, sojdi s puti vol'nyh zhelanij devstva!

Ibo vse zhivoe Svyashchenno.

Perevod A. YA. Sergeeva

VISIONS OF THE DAUGHTERS OF ALBION
VIDENIYA DSHCHEREJ ALXBIONA

The Eye sees more than
the Heart Knows

Glaz vidit bol'she,
CHem Serdce znaet.

THE ARGUMENT

I loved Theotormon,
And I was not ashamed;
I trembled in my virgin fears,
And I hid in Leutha's vale!

I plucked Leutha's flower,
And I rose up from the vale;
But the terrible thunders tore
My virgin mantle in twain.

SMYSL

YA polyubila Teotormona
I ne stydilas', chto lyublyu;
YA trepetala v strahe devich'em
I pryatalas' v doline Levty.

YA sorvala cvetok nad Levtoyu
I v put' pustilas' iz doliny;
No groznyj grom odezhdu devich'yu
Udarom nadvoe rassek.

VISIONS

Enslav'd, the Daughters of Albion weep; a trembling lamentation
Upon their mountains; in their valleys, sighs toward America.

For the soft soul of America, Oothoon, wander'd in woe
Along the vales of Leutha, seeking flowers to comfort her;
And thus she spoke to the bright Marigold of Leutha's vale; -

'Art thou a flower? art thou a nymph? I see thee now a flower,
Now a nymph! I dare not pluck thee from thy dewy bed!'

The Golden nymph replied: 'Pluck thou my flower, Oothoon the mild!
Another flower shall spring, because the soul of sweet delight
Can never pass away.' She ceas'd, and clos'd her golden shrine.

Then Oothoon pluck'd the flower, saying: 'I pluck thee from thy bed,
Sweet flower, and put thee here to glow between my breasts;
And thus I turn my face to where my whole soul seeks.'

Over the waves she went in wing'd exulting swift delight,
And over Theotormon's reign took her impetuous course.

Bromion rent her with his thunders; on his stormy bed
Lay the faint maid, and soon her woes appall'd his thunders hoarse.

Bromion spoke: 'Behold this harlot here on Bromion's bed,
And let the jealous dolphins sport around the lovely maid!
Thy soft American plains are mine, and mine thy north and south:
Stamp'd with my signet are the swarthy children of the sun;
They are obedient, they resist not, they obey the scourge;
Their daughters worship terrors and obey the violent.
Now thou may'st marry Bromion's harlot, and protect the child
Of Bromion's rage, that Oothoon shall put forth in nine moons' time.'

Then storms rent Theotormon's limbs: he roll'd his waves around
And folded his black jealous waters round the adulterate pair.
Bound back to back in Bromion's caves, terror and meekness dwell:
At entrance Theotormon sits, wearing the threshold hard
With secret tears; beneath him sound like waves on a desert shore
The voice of slaves beneath the sun, and children bought with money,
That shiver in religious caves beneath the burning fires
Of lust, that belch incessant from the summits of the earth.

Oothoon weeps not; she cannot weep, her tears are locked up;
But she can howl incessant, writhing her soft snowy limbs,
And calling Theotormon's Eagles to prey upon her flesh.

'I call with holy voice! Kings of the sounding air,
Rend away this defiled bosom that I may reflect
The image of Theotormoti on my pure transparent breast.'

The Eagles at her call descend and rend their bleeding prey:
Theotormon severely smiles; her soul reflects the smile,
As the clear spring, muddied with feet of beasts, grows pure and smiles.

The Daughters of Albion hear her woes, and echo back her sighs.

'Why does my Theotormon sit weeping upon the threshold,
And Oothoon hovers by his side, persuading him in vain?
O cry: Arise, O Theotormon! for the village dog
Barks at the breaking day; the nightingale has done lamenting;
The lark does rustle in the ripe corn, and the eagle returns
From nightly prey, and lifts his golden beak to the pure east,
Shaking the dust from his immortal pinions to awake
The sun that sleeps too long. Arise, my Theotormon! I am pure,
Because the night is gone that clos'd me in its deadly black.
They told me that the night and day were all that I could see;
They told me that I had five senses to enclose me up;
And they enclos'd my infinite brain into a narrow circle,
And sunk my heart into the Abyss, a red, round globe, hot burning,
Till all from life I was obliterated and erased.
Instead of morn arises a bright shadow, like an eye
In the eastern cloud; instead of night a sickly charnel-house,
That Theotormon hears me not. To him the night and morn
Are both alike; a night of sighs, a morning of fresh tears;
And none but Bromion can hear my lamentations.

'With what sense is it that the chicken shuns the ravenous hawk?
With what sense does the tame pigeon measure out the expanse?
With what sense does the bee form cells? Have not the mouse and frog
Eyes and ears and sense of touch? Yet are their habitations
And their pursuits as different as their forms and as their joys.
Ask the wild ass why he refuses burdens, and the meek camel
Why he loves man. Is it because of eye, ear, mouth, or skin,
Or breathing nostrils? No! for these the wolf and tiger have.
Ask the blind worm the secrets of the grave, and why her spires
Love to curl round the bones of death; and ask the rav'nous snake
Where she gets poison, and the wing'd eagle why he loves the sun;
And then tell me the thoughts of man, that have been hid of old.

'Silent I hover all the night, and all day could be silent,
If Theotormon once would turn his loved eyes upon me.
How can I be defil'd when I reflect thy image pure?
Sweetest the fruit that the worm feeds on, and the soul prey'd on by woe,
The new-wash'd lamb ting'd with the village smoke, and the bright swan
By the red earth of our immortal river. I bathe my wings,
And I am white and pure to hover round Theotormon's breast.'

Then Theotormon broke his silence, and he answered: -

'Tell me what is the night or day to one o'erflow'd with woe?
Tell me what is a thought, and of what substance is it made?
Tell me what is a joy, and in what gardens do joys grow?
And in what rivers swim the sorrows? And upon what mountains
Wave shadows of discontent? And in what houses dwell the wretched,
Drunken with woe, forgotten, and shut up from cold despair?

'Tell me where dwell the thoughts, forgotten till thou call them forth?
Tell me where dwell the joys of old, and where the ancient loves,
And when will they renew again, and the night of oblivion past,
That I might traverse times and spaces far remote, and bring
Comforts into a present sorrow and a night of pain?
Where goest thou, O thought? to what remote land is thy flight?
If thou returnest to the present moment of affliction,
Wilt thou bring comforts on thy wings, and dews and honey and balm,
Or poison from the desert wilds, from the eyes of the envier?'

Then Bromion said, and shook the cavern with his lamentation: -

'Thou knowest that the ancient trees seen by thine eyes have fruit;
But knowest thou that trees and fruits flourish upon the earth
To gratify senses unknown-trees, beasts, and birds unknown;
Unknown, not unperceiv'd, spread in the infinite microscope,

In places yet unvisited by the voyager, and in worlds
Over another kind of seas, and in atmospheres unknown?
Ah! are there other wars, beside the wars of sword and fire?
And are there other sorrows beside the sorrows of poverty?
And are there other joys beside the joys of riches and ease?
And is there not one law for both the lion and the ox?
And is there not eternal fire, and eternal chains
To bind the phantoms of existence from eternal life?'

Then Oothoon waited silent all the day and all the night;
But when the morn arose, her lamentation renew'd:
The Daughters of Albion hear her woes, and echo back her sighs.

'O Urizen! Creator of men! mistaken Demon of heaven!
Thy joys are tears, thy labour vain to form men to thine image.
How can one joy absorb another? Are not different joys
Holy, eternal, infinite? and each joy is a Love.

'Does not the great mouth laugh at a gift, and the narrow eyelids mock
At the labour that is above payment? And wilt thou take the ape
For thy counsellor, or the dog for a schoolmaster to thy children?
Does he who contemns poverty, and he who turns with abhorrence
From usury feel the same passion, or are they moved alike?
How can the giver of gifts experience the delights of the merchant?
How the industrious citizen the pains of the husbandman?
How different far the fat fed hireling with hollow drum,
Who buys whole corn-fields into wastes, and sings upon the heath!
How different their eye and ear! How different the world to them!
With what sense does the parson claim the labour of the farmer?
What are his nets and gins and traps; and how does he surround him
With cold floods of abstraction, and with forests of solitude,
To build him castles and high spires, where kings and priests may dwell;
Till she who burns with youth, and knows no fixed lot, is bound
In spells of law to one she loathes? And must she drag the chain
Of life in weary lust? Must chilling, murderous thoughts obscure
The clear heaven of her eternal spring; to bear the wintry rage
Of a harsh terror, driv'n to madness, bound to hold a rod
Over her shrinking shoulders all the day, and all the night
To turn the wheel of false desire, and longings that wake her womb
To the abhorred birth of cherubs in the human form,
That live a pestilence and die a meteor, and are no more;
Till the child dwell with one he hates, and do the deed he loathes,
And the impure scourge force his seed into its unripe birth,
Ere yet his eyelids can behold the arrows of the day?

'Does the whale worship at thy footsteps as the hungry dog;
Or does he scent the mountain prey because his nostrils wide
Draw in the ocean? Does his eye discern the flying cloud
As the raven's eye; or does he measure the expanse like the vulture?
Does the still spider view the cliffs where eagles hide their young;
Or does the fly rejoice because the harvest is brought in?
Does not the eagle scorn the earth, and despise the treasures beneath?
But the mole knoweth what is there, and the worm shall tell it thee.
Does not the worm erect a pillar in the mouldering churchyard
And a palace of eternity in the jaws of the hungry grave?
Qver his porch these words are written: "Take thy bliss, O Man!
And sweet shall be thy taste, and sweet thy infant joys renew!"

'Infancy! Fearless, lustful, happy, nestling for delight
In laps of pleasure: Innocence! honest, open, seeking
The vigorous joys of morning light, open to virgin bliss,
Who taught thee modesty, subtil modesty, child of night and sleep?
When thou awakest wilt thou dissemble all thy secret joys,
Or wert thou not awake when all this mystery was disclos'd?
Then com'st thou forth a modest virgin knowing to dissemble,
With nets found under thy night pillow, to catch virgin joy
And brand it with the name of whore, and sell it in the night
In silence, ev'n without a whisper, and in seeming sleep.
Religious dreams and holy vespers light thy smoky fires:
Qnce were thy fires lighted by the eyes of honest morn.
And does my Theotormon seek this hypocrite modesty,
This knowing, artful, secret, fearful, cautious, trembling hypocrite?
Then (s Oothoon a whore indeed! and all the virgin joys,
Of life are harlots; and Theotormon is a sick man's dream;
And Oothoon is the crafty slave of selfish holiness.

'But Oothoon is not so, a virgin fill'd with virgin fancies,
Open to joy and to delight wherever beauty appears:
If in the morning sun I find it, there my eyes are fix'd
In happy copulation; if in evening mild, wearied with work,
Sit on a bank and draw the pleasures of this free-born joy.

'The moment of desire! the moment of desire! The virgin
That pines for man shall awaken her womb to enormous joys
In the secret shadows of her chamber: the youth shut up from
The lustful joy shall forget to generate, and create an amorous image
In the shadows of his curtains and in the folds of his silent pillow
Are not these the places of religion, the rewards of continence,
The self-enjoyings of self-denial? Why dost thou seek religion?
Is it because acts are not lovely that thou seekes't solitude,
Where the horrible darkness is impressed with reflections of desire?

'Father of Jealousy, be thou accursed from the earth!
Why hast thou taught my Theotormon this accursed thing,
Till beauty fades from off my shoulders, darken'd and cast out,
A solitary shadow wailing on the margin of nonentity?

'I cry: Love! Love! Love! happy happy Love! free as the mountain wind!
Can that be Love, that drinks another as a sponge drinks water,
That clouds with jealousy his nights, with weepings all the day,
To spin a web of age around him, grey and hoary, dark;
Till his eyes sicken at the fruit that hangs before his sight?
Such is self-love that envies all, a creeping skeleton,
With lamplike eyes watching around the frozen marriage bed!

'But silken nets and traps of adamant will Oothoon spread,
And catch for thee girls of mild silver, or of furious gold.
I'll lie beside thee on a bank, and view their wanton play
In lovely copulation, bliss on bliss, with Theotormon:
Red as the rosy morning, lustful as the first-born beam,
Oothoon shall view his dear delight; nor e'er with jealous cloud
Come in the heaven of generous love, nor selfish blightings bring.

'Does the sun walk, in glorious raiment, on the secret floor
Where the cold miser spreads his gold; or does the bright cloud drop
On his stone threshold? Does his eye behold the beam that brings
Expansion to the eye of pity; or will he bind himself
Beside the ox to thy hard furrow? Does not that mild beam blot
The bat, the owl, the glowing tiger, and the king of night?
The sea-fowl takes the wintry blast for a cov'ring to her limbs,
And the wild snake the pestilence to adorn him with gems and gold;
And trees, and birds, and beasts, and men behold their eternal joy.
Arise, you little glancing wings, and sing your infant joy!
Arise, and drink your bliss, for everything that lives is holy!'
Thus every morning wails Oothoon; but Theotormon sits
Upon the margin'd ocean conversing with shadows dire.

The Daughters of Albion hear her woes, and echo back her sighs.

VIDENIYA

Rydayut v rabstve Dshcheri Al'biona, ston ih slyshen
V dolinah i v gorah; k Amerike letyat ih vzdohi:
Tam bezuteshnaya dusha Ameriki Utuna
Brodila po doline Levty, i sebe v otradu
Cvetok iskala, i, najdya, sprosila Margaritku:

- Skazhi, cvetok il' nimfa ty? To vizhu ya cvetok,
To nimfu. Razluchu l' tebya s tvoim rosistym lozhem?

Zlataya nimfa ej v otvet: - Sorvi menya, Utuna!
Drugoj cvetok vzrastet vzamen menya: dusha blazhenstva
Bessmertna. - I ukrylas' nimfa v venchike zlatom.

Utuna sorvala cvetok, skazav: - Ty razluchilas'
S rosistym lozhem - tak siyaj zhe na moej grudi:
S toboj mne veselo speshit', kuda vlechet dusha.

I poletela na volnah krylatogo blazhenstva,
Nad carstvom Teotormona pustilas' v bystryj put'.

No gromom Bromion srazil ee; ona upala
Na lozhe burnoe ego i voplem grom pronzila.
Vozzval glumlivyj Bromion: - Vzglyani, v moih ob®yat'yah -
Bludnica, i hranyat ee revnivye del'finy!
Tvoya Amerika - moya, moi tvoj yug i sever,
I vyzhzheno moe tavro na chernyh detyah solnca.
Oni ne ropshchut i pokorny moemu bichu,
Ih docheri drozhat menya i ustupayut sile.
Beri moyu nalozhnicu, hrani moe ditya -
Ty cherez devyat' mesyacev ego poluchish' v dar!

No potryasennyj Teotormon otgonyaet buryu,
I volny temnoj revnosti speshat k prelyubodeyu.
Spinoj k spine v peshcherah Bromiona strah i sram.
Pred vhodom, slezy zataiv, upornyj Teotormon;
U nog ego, kak volny na pustynnom beregu,
Vskipayut golosa rabov; ih prodayut za den'gi,
V monasheskie nory zagnala ih zlaya pohot' -
Ee, kak lavu, neprestanno izrygayut gory.

Utuna slez ne l'et, ne mozhet: slezy v nej issyakli;
No telo snezhnoe ee trepeshchet ot stenanij,
Ona k sebe sklikaet Teotormonovyh ptic:
- Ko mne, Orly, vladyki zvonkih tokov neba!
Kogtyami rvite grud' moyu i obnazhite dushu,
CHtob obraz Teotormona zapechatlelsya v serdce.

Orly sletelis' i kogtili zhalobnuyu zhertvu;
Surovo ulybnulsya Teotormon, i Utuna
V dushe svoej zapechatlela gor'kuyu ulybku -
Tak solnce posle buri otrazhaetsya v reke.

Vzdyhayut Dshcheri Al'biona, slysha ston Utuny.

- Zachem rydaet u peshcher moj groznyj Teotormon,
Zachem dusha Utuny tshchetno molit o spasen'e?
Vosstan', o Teotormon, ibo derevenskij pes
Zalayal pred rassvetom, solovej okonchil pesnyu,
I zhavoronok shelestit vo rzhi, i vozvratilsya
S dobycheyu Orel, i podnyal klyuv k vostoku,
I stryahivaet prah s bessmertnyh kryl'ev, i zovet
Medlitel'noe solnce. Probudis', moj Teotormon,
Menya pyatnala t'ma, no noch' proshla, i ya chista.
Mne govoryat, chto tol'ko noch' i den' mogu ya videt',
CHto pyat' moih ubogih chuvstv moyu zamknuli dushu
I zaklyuchili v tesnyj krug moj bespredel'nyj razum,
A serdca moego goryashchij shar nizvergli v Bezdnu;
Mne govoryat, chto ya navek ottorzhena ot zhizni,
CHto utrom dlya menya voshodit tucha, a ne solnce,
I vecherom stupayu ya ne k nochi, a k mogile:
Moj Teotormon mne ne vnemlet! Dlya ego dushi
CHto svet - chto t'ma: noch' vzdohov ili utro svezhih slez,

Lish' Bromion s usmeshkoj slyshit moj unylyj ston.

CHto zastavlyaet kur bezhat' ot yastrebinoj zloby?
CHto zastavlyaet golubej iskat' dorogu k domu,
A pchel roit'sya v ul'e? Razve myshi i lyagushki
Ne obladayut zreniem i sluhom? Otchego zhe
Ih nravy, obitalishcha i radosti razlichny?
I otchego osel upryam, i otchego verblyud
Pokoren cheloveku? Ottogo li, chto u nih
Est' zren'e, osyazan'e, obonyan'e, sluh i vkus?
Net, ibo tem zhe nadelen ravno i tigr i volk.
Sprosi chervej o tajne groba, otchego oni
ZHivut sredi kostej? Sprosi kovarnuyu zmeyu,
Otkuda v nej smertel'nyj yad; zatem orla sprosi,
Zachem on lyubit vys' i solnce; i togda otkroj mne
Izdrevle zataivshiesya mysli cheloveka.

Kogda by Teotormon obratil ko mne svoj vzor,
YA ne stenala by ves' den', vsyu noch' by ne stenala.
Da est' li greh na mne, kogda vo mne tvoj chistyj obraz?
Vseh slashche - plod, v kotorom cherv'; dusha, v kotoroj gore;
YAgnenok, na kotorom dym kostra; i yarkij lebed'
U krasnyh beregov reki bessmert'ya. YA omyla
Kryla svoi i toroplyus' pril'nut' k tvoej grudi.

Prerval svoe molchan'e Teotormon i otvetil:

- Skazhi, chto znachat svet i t'ma v zemnoj yudoli gorya?
I chto takoe mysl' i kakova ee priroda?
I chto takoe radost', gde ona, v kakih sadah?
V kakih potokah skorb' struitsya, na kakie gory
Upala ten' toski i gde vlachat svoj vek stradal'cy,
Kogo durman trudov spasaet ot samoubijstva?
Skazhi, kem zizhdetsya zabytaya do sroka mysl'
I gde zhivet bylaya radost' i minuvshaya lyubov'?
Kogda oni vernutsya k nam, i sginet mrak zabven'ya,
I ya smogu perenestis' skvoz' vremya i prostranstvo
I oblegchit' segodnyashnyuyu bol', i mrak, i gore?
Kuda ty uletaesh', mysl', v kakoj dalekij kraj,
I esli vozvratish'sya v etot bedstvuyushchij mir,
CHto prinesesh' ty na krylah - rosu, bal'zam i med
Il' yad iz vodyanyh pustyn', iz vrazheskih ochej?

Tut Bromion sotryas svoi peshchery groznym krikom:

- Ty vidish' drevnie derev'ya i na nih plody -
Uznaj zhe, chto derev'ya i plody proizrastayut
Dlya chuvstv, ne vedomyh podnes'; chto pod vsesil'noj linzoj
Predvidyatsya v inyh mirah, moryah i nebesah
Takie tvari, o kakih ne myslil otkryvatel'.
Znaj: vojny na zemle vedut ne tol'ko ogn' i mech;
Znaj: bedstviya nesut ne tol'ko nishcheta i skorb',
Ravno kak schast'e - ne odni bogatstvo i dovol'stvo!
Pojmi zhe: ne odin zakon dlya l'va i dlya osla;
Net vechnogo ognya, ravno kak vechnyh net cepej,
Sposobnyh prizrak zhizni otreshit' ot vechnoj zhizni!

V molchanii Utuna protomilas' den' i noch';
Kogda zhe vnov' nastal rassvet, to vnov' ona vzmolilas'.

Vzdyhayut Dshcheri Al'biona, slysha ston Utuny.

- O Urizen, tvorec lyudej, nebes nemudryj Demon,
Votshche ty lyudyam dal svoj obraz: pogloshchayut slezy
Ih radost'! Razve ty ne porodil inuyu radost' -
Svyatuyu, bezgranichnuyu, bessmertnuyu Lyubov'?

No razve alchnyj rot skupca ne preziraet shchedrost'?
I razve uzkij glaz ne otvergaet beskoryst'ya?
Voz'mesh' li ty v sovetchiki martyshku? Dash' li detyam
V uchiteli sobaku? Ne odnoj i toj zhe strast'yu
Podvignuty i te, kto otgonyaet zhalkih nishchih,
I te, kto otvrashchaetsya ot zlyh rostovshchikov.
O, razve shchedryj na dary pojmet vostorg torgovca?
I razve gorozhanin znaet muki zemledel'ca?
I razve s nimi shozh tupoj naemnik s barabanom -
On prevrashchaet nivu v pustosh' i gorlanit pesni!
Kakie raznye u vse miry, glaza i ushi!
Kak smeet pastor trebovat' darov u hlebopashca,
V kakie seti i silki on lovit prihozhan,
Kak v dushi ih vlivaet otvlechennye ponyat'ya
I zagonyaet v debri odinochestva i straha -
I stroit hramy i dvorcy, dostojnye carej!
Kakim zaklyat'em yunuyu neopytnuyu devu
On sochetaet s nenavistnoj starost'yu? Dolzhna li
V cepyah ustaloj pohoti ona prozhit' vsyu zhizn'
I mertvennymi ledyanymi dumami zaveshivat'
Prozrachnyj nebosvod svoej vesny, shodit' s uma,
I vyanushchie plechi podstavlyat' bicham zimy,
I po nocham kruzhit'sya v kolese pritvornoj strasti,
I s otvrashcheniem rozhdat' nezrelyh, nezhelannyh
Detej, podobnyh serafimam, no v lyudskom oblich'e.
Nechistym semenem oni zachaty radi smerti -
Kak im lyubit' roditelej, kak im cenit' svoj trud,
Kogda v ih robkie glaza vonzilis' strely dnya?

Skulit li kit golodnym psom u tvoego poroga?
Vdyhaya vody okeana, mozhet li on chuyat'
Dobychu vysoko v gorah, i tak zhe li, kak voron,
On vidit oblaka i, kak stervyatnik, merit nebo?
Pauk pletet li pautinu nad gnezdom orla?
Pri vide polnyh zakromov poraduetsya li muha?
Nuzhna l' orlu zemlya i vse podzemnye bogatstva?
Zato ih znaet krot, o nih tebe rasskazhet cherv' -
Ne on li vozdvigaet stolp nad ryhloj pochvoj tlen'ya
I vechnyj svoj dvorec v nesytyh chelyustyah mogil?
Ne na poroge l' groba nadpis': "CHelovek, poznaj
Blazhenstvo i verni sebe mladencheskuyu radost'!"

Mladenchestvo! Besstrashnoe, schastlivoe, svyatoe,
Ty zhadno zhazhdesh' radostej i l'nesh' k grudi blazhenstva.
Nevinnost'! CHestnaya, otkrytaya, ty strastno ishchesh'
Vostorgov utra i vkushaesh' devstvennoe schast'e.
Kto nauchil stydlivosti ditya nochnogo sna?
Prosnuvshis', ne predash' li ty svoi prostye tajny,
Il' vovse ne prosnesh'sya ty, kogda spadet zavesa?
Togda ty vyjdesh' v mir surovoj licemernoj devoj,
I devstvennuyu radost' budesh' ulovlyat' silkami,
I zaklejmish' ee bludnicej, i prodash' za den'gi
V nochi, v molchanii, bez shepota, v pritvornom sne.
Svyatye zvezdy i vysokie mechty vzirayut
Na dymnyj plamen', vspyhnuvshij odnazhdy chistym utrom.
O Teotormon, ty li zhazhdesh' skromnosti poddel'noj,
Iskusnogo, opaslivogo, zlogo licedejstva?
Kol' tak, tvoya Utuna - shlyuha, devstvennaya radost' -
Rasputnica, a sam ty, Teotormon, - bred bezumca.
Uzhel' ya - hitraya rabynya nabozhnoj korysti?

Net, ya ne takova: ya deva i lechu mechtami
Navstrechu radosti i schast'yu. Na voshode solnca
Otkrytye glaza moi v soglasii schastlivom,
A vecherom, ustalaya, ya nahozhu otradu
Na tihom beregu reki v pokoe i privol'e.

O, mig vostorga! Mig vostorga! Vozhdeleet deva,
CHtob yunosha ej chrevo probudil dlya naslazhden'ya
V ukromnoj tishine, - inache yunost' pod zamkom
Razuchitsya rozhdat' detej i myslit' milyj oblik
V teni stydlivyh zanavesej na nemoj podushke.
Zachem ty ishchesh' blagochest'ya? Razve v nem nagrada
Za gody vozderzhaniya i samootrican'ya?
Ty preziraesh' grubost' ploti i zovesh' k bezbrach'yu,
V kotorom t'ma pronizana roeniem zhelanij?

Bud' proklyat, Poroditel' gnusnoj Revnosti! Za chto
Na Teotormona ty nalozhil svoe proklyat'e?
Poka moi siyayushchie plechi ne pomerkli -
YA - ten', rydayushchaya u granic nebytiya.

I ya zovu: Lyubov'! Lyubov'! Schastlivaya Lyubov',
Schastlivaya, svobodnaya, kak veter na vershinah!
Ne ty, Lyubov', tumanish' noch' - somnen'em, den' - slezami;
Ne ty setyami starosti nevolish' cheloveka,
I on uzhe ne vidit plod, visyashchij pered nim.
Ne ty, no Sebyalyubie, skelet s goryashchim vzorom,
Revnivyj storozh nad chuzhim holodnym brachnym lozhem.

No dev nezhno-serebryanyh i zharko-zolotyh
V silki iz shelka ili v zapadni iz biryuzy
Utuna dlya lyubimogo ulovit i, sama
Schastlivaya, uvidit ih schastlivoe soit'e,
Ih prihotlivuyu igru s toboj, moj Teotormon.
Gorya zhelan'em, slovno pervyj alyj luch rassveta,
Utuna budet sozercat' chuzhoj vostorg, i Revnost'
Ne omrachit ej, beskorystnoj, nebesa Lyubvi.

Sojdet li solnce v prazdnichnyh odezhdah v podzemel'e,
Gde skryaga pryachet zoloto? Opustitsya li tuchka
Na kamennyj porog ego? Uvidit li zlodushnyj
Luchi dobra, chto rasshiryayut ochi sostradan'ya,
Ili, kak vol, pojdet on po privychnoj borozde?
Uzheli blagotvornye luchi bessil'ny protiv
Sovy, Letuchej Myshi, Tigra i Vladyki Nochi?
Morskaya ptica pryachetsya v nenastnom zimnem vetre,
Zmeya k sebe primanivaet zoloto i zhemchug,
A zlaki, zveri, pticy, lyudi vechno zhazhdut schast'ya.
Vosstan'te zh i zachnite pesn' mladencheskomu schast'yu!
Vosstan'te zh dlya blazhenstva, ibo vse zhivoe svyato!

Tak stonet deva kazhdym utrom, ibo Teotormon
Naprasno sporit s groznymi tenyami okeana.

Vzdyhayut Dshcheri Al'biona, slysha ston Utuny.

Perevod A. YA. Sergeeva

THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

BOOK THE FIRST

The dead brood over Europe: the cloud and vision descends over
cheerful France;
O cloud well appointed! Sick, sick, the Prince on his couch! wreath'd
in dim
And appalling mist; his strong hand outstretch'd, from his shoulder
down the bone,
Runs aching cold into the sceptre, too heavy for mortal grasp -
no more
To be swayed by visible hand, nor in cruelty bruise the mild flourish-
ing mountains.
Sick the mountains! and all their vineyards weep, in the eyes of the
kingly mourner;
Pale is the morning cloud in his visage. Rise, Necker! the ancient
dawn calls us
To awake from slumbers of five thousand years. I awake,
but my soul is in dreams;
From my window I see the old mountains of France, like aged men,
fading away.
Troubled, leaning on Necker, descends the King to his chamber of
council; shady mountains
In fear utter voices of thunder; the woods of France embosom
the sound;
Clouds of wisdom prophetic reply, and roll over the palace roof
heavy.
Forty men, each conversing with woes in the infinite shadows of
his soul,
Like our ancient fathers in regions of twilight, walk, gathering round
the King:
Again the loud voice of France cries to the morning; the morning
prophesies to its clouds.
For the Commons convene in the Hall of the Nation. France shakes!
And the heavens of France
Perplex'd vibrate round each careful countenance! Darkness of old
times around them
Utters loud despair, shadowing Paris; her grey towers groan, and the
Bastille trembles.
In its terrible towers the Governor stood, in dark fogs list'ning
the horror;
A thousand his soldiers, old veterans of France, breathing red clouds
of power and dominion.
Sudden seiz'd with howlings, despair, and black night, he stalk'd like
a lion from tower
To tower; his howlings were heard in the Louvre; from court to
court restless he dragg'd
His strong limbs; from court to courf curs'd the fierce torment
unquell'd,
Howling and giving the dark command; in his soul stood the purple
plague,
Tugging his iron manacles, and piercing thro' the seven towers dark
and sickly,
Panting over the prisoners like a wolf gorg'd. And the den nam'd
Horror held a man
Chain'd hand and foot; round his neck an iron band, bound to the
impregnable wall;
In his soul was the serpent coil'd round in his heart, hid from the
light, as in a cleft rock:
And the man was confin'd for a writing prophetic. In the tower nam'd
Darkness was a man
Pinion'd down to the stone floor, his strong bones scarce cover'd
with sinews; the iron rings
Were forg'd smaller as the flesh decay'd: a mask of iron on his face
hid the lineaments
Of ancient Kings, and the frown of the eternal lion was hid from the
oppressed earth.
In the tower named Bloody, a skeleton yellow remained in its chains
on its couch
Of stone, once a man who refus'd to sign papers of abhorrence;
the eternal worm
Crept in the skeleton. In the den nam'd Religion, a loathsome sick
woman bound down
To a bed of straw; the seven diseases of earth, like birds of prey,
stood on the couch
And fed on the body: she refus'd to be whore to the Minister, and
with a knife smote him.
In the tower nam'd Order, an old man, whose white beard cover'd
the stone floor like weeds
On margin of the sea, shrivell'd up by heat of day and cold of night;
his den was short
And narrow as a grave dug for a child, with spiders' webs wove,
and with slime
Of ancient horrors cover'd, for snakes and scorpions are his
companions; harmless they breathe
His sorrowful breath: he, by conscience urg'd, in the city of Paris
rais'd a pulpit,
And taught wonders to darken'd souls. In the den nam'd Destiny
a strong man sat,
His feet and hands cut off, and his eyes blinded; round his middle a
chain and a band
Fasten'd into the wall; fancy gave him to see an image of despair
in his den,
Eternally rushing round, like a man on his hands and knees, day
and night without rest:
He was friend to the favourite. In the seventh tower, nam'd the tower
of God, was a man
Mad, with chains loose, which he dragg'd up and down; fed with
hopes year by year, he pined
For liberty. - Vain hopes! his reason decay'd, and the world of
attraction in his bosom
Centred, and the rushing of chaos overwhelm'd his dark soul: he
was confin'd
For a letter of advice to a King, and his ravings in winds are heard
over Versailles.

But the dens shook and trembled: the prisoners look up and assay
to shout; they listen,
Then laugh in the dismal den, then are silent; and a light walks
round the dark towers.
For the Commons convene in the Hall of the Nation; like spirits of
fire in the beautiful
Porches of the Sun, to plant beauty in the desert craving abyss,
they gleam
On the anxious city: all children new-born first behold them, tears
are fled,
And they nestle in earth-breathing bosoms. So the city of Paris, their
wives and children,
Look up to the morning Senate, and visions of sorrow leave pensive
streets.

But heavy-brow'd jealousies lour o'er the Louvre; and terrors of
ancient Kings
Descend from the gloom and wander thro' the palace, and weep
round the King and his Nobles;
While loud thunders roll, troubling the dead. Kings are sick
throughout all the earth!
The voice ceas'd: the Nation sat; and the triple forg'd fetters of
times were unloos'd.
The voice ceas'd: the Nation sat; but ancient darkness and trembling
wander thro' the palace.

As in day of havoc and routed battle, among thick shades of
discontent,
On the soul-skirting mountains of sorrow cold waving, the Nobles
fold round the King;
Each stern visage lock'd up as with strong bands of iron, each strong
limb bound down as with marble,
In flames of red wrath burning, bound in astonishment a quarter
of an hour.

Then the King glow'd: his Nobles fold round, like the sun of old
time quench'd in clouds;
In their darkness the King stood; his heart flam'd, and utter'd a
with'ring heat, and these words burst forth:

'The nerves of five thousand years' ancestry tremble, shaking the
heavens of France;
Throbs of anguish beat on brazen war foreheads; they descend and
look into their graves.
I see thro' darkness, thro' clouds rolling round me, the spirits of
ancient Kings
Shivering over their bleached bones; round them their counsellors
look up from the dust,
Crying: "Hide from the living! Our bonds and our prisoners shout
in the open field.
Hide in the nether earth! Hide in the bones! Sit obscured in the
hollow scull!'
Our flesh is corrupted, and we wear away. We are not numbered
among the living. Let us hide
In stones, among roots of trees. The prisoners have burst their
dens.
Let us hide! let us hide in the dust! and plague and wrath and tempest
shall cease."

He ceas'd, silent pond'ring; his brows folded heavy, his forehead
was in affliction.
Like the central fire from the window he saw his vast armies spread
over the hills,
Breathing red fires from man to man, and from horse to horse: then
his bosom
Expanded like starry heaven; he sat down: his Nobles took their
ancient seats.

Then the ancientest Peer, Duke of Burgundy, rose from the Monarch's
right hand, red as wines
From his mountains; an odour of war, like a ripe vineyard, rose
from his garments,
And the chamber became as a clouded sky; o'er the Council he
stretch'd his red limbs
Cloth'd in flames of crimson; as a ripe vineyard stretches over .
sheaves of corn,
The fierce Duke hung over the Council; around him crowd, weeping
in his burning robe,
A bright cloud of infant souls: his words fall like purple autumn
on the sheaves:

'Shall this marble-built heaven become a clay cottage, this earth an
oak stool, and these mowers
From the Atlantic mountains mow down all this great starry harvest
of six thousand years?
And shall Necker, the hind of Geneva, stretch out his crook'd sickle
o'er fertile France,
Till our purple and crimson is faded to russet, and the kingdoms of
earth bound in sheaves,
And the ancient forests of chivalry hewn, and the joys of the combat
burnt for fuel;
Till the power and dominion is rent from the pole, sword and sceptre
from sun and moon,
The law and gospel from fire and air, and eternal reason and
science
From the deep and the solid, and man lay his faded head down
on the rock
Of eternity, where the eternal lion and eagle remain to devour?
This to prevent, urg'd by cries in day, and prophetic dreams
hovering in night,
To enrich the lean earth that craves, furrow'd with ploughs, whose
seed is departing from her,
Thy Nobles have gather'd thy starry hosts round this
rebellious city,
To rouse up the ancient forests of Europe, with clarions of
cloud-breathing war,
To hear the horse neigh to the drum and trumpet, and the trumpet
and war shout reply.
Stretch the hand that beckons the eagles of heaven: they cry over
Paris, and wait
Till Fayette point his finger to Versailles-the eagles of heaven must
have their prey!'

He ceas'd, and burn'd silent: red clouds roll round Necker; a
weeping is heard o'er the palace.
Like a dark cloud Necker paus'd, and like thunder on the just man's
burial day he paus'd.
Silent sit the winds, silent the meadows; while the husbandman and
woman of weakness
And bright children look after him into the grave, and water his
clay with love,
Then turn towards pensive fields: so Necker paus'd, and his visage
was cover'd with clouds.

The King lean'd on his mountains; then lifted his head and look'd
on his armies, that shone
Thro' heaven, tinging morning with beams of blood; then turning to
Burgundy, troubled: -
'Burgundy, thou wast born a lion! My soul is o'ergrown with
distress
For the Nobles of France, and dark mists roll round me and blot
the writing of God
Written in my bosom. Necker rise! leave the kingdom, thy life is
surrounded with snares.
We have call'd an Assembly, but not to destroy; we have given gifts,
not to the weak;
I hear rushing of muskets and bright'ning of swords; and visages,
redd'ning with war,
Frowning and looking up from brooding villages and every dark'ning
city.
Ancient wonders frown over the kingdom, and cries of women and
babes are heard,
And tempests of doubt roll around me, and fierce sorrows, because
of the Nobles of France.
Depart! answer not! for the tempest must fall, as in years that are
passed away.'

Dropping a tear the old man his place left, and when he was
gone out
He set his face toward Geneva to flee; and the women and children
of the city
Kneel'd round him and kissed his garments and wept: he stood a
short space in the street,
Then fled; and the whole city knew he was fled to Geneva, and
the Senate heard it.
But the Nobles burn'd wrathful at Necker's departure, and wreath'd
their clouds and waters
In dismal volumes; as, risen from beneath, the Archbishop of Paris
arose
In the rushing of scales, and hissing of flames, and rolling of
sulphurous smoke: -

'Hearken, Monarch of France, to the terrors of heaven, and let thy
soul drink of my counsel!
Sleeping at midnight in my golden tower, the repose of the labours
of men
Wav'd its solemn cloud over my head. I awoke; a cold hand passed
over my limbs, and behold!
An aged form, white as snow, hov'ring in mist, weeping in the
uncertain light.
Dim the form almost faded, tears fell down the shady cheeks: at
his feet many cloth'd
In white robes, strewn in air censers and harps, silent they lay
prostrated;
Beneath, in the awful void, myriads descending and weeping thro'
dismal winds;
Endless the shady train shiv'ring desdended, from the gloom where
the aged form wept.
At length, trembling, the vision sighing, in a low voice like the
voice of the grasshopper, whisper'd:
"My groaning is heard in the abbeys, and God, so long worshipp'd,
departs as a lamp
Without oil; for a curse is heard hoarse thro' the land, from a
godless race
Descending to beasts; they look downward, and labour, and forget
my holy law;
The sound of prayer fails from lips of flesh, and the holy hymn
from thicken'd tongues;
For the bars of Chaos are burst; her millions prepare their fiery
way
Thro' the orbed abode of the holy dead, to root up and pull down
and remove,
And Nobles and Clergy shall fail from before me, and my cloud and
vision be no more;
The mitre become black, the crown vanish, and the sceptre and
ivory staff
Of the ruler wither among bones of death; they shall consume from
the thistly field,
And the sound of the bell, and voice of the sabbath, and singing of
the holy choir
Is turn'd into songs of the harlot in day, and cries of the virgin in
night.
They shall drop at the plough and faint at the harrow, unredeem'd,
unconfess'd, unpardon'd;
The priest rot in his surplice by the lawless lover, the holy beside the
accursed,
The King, frowning in purple, beside the grey ploughman, and their
worms embrace together."
The voice ceas'd: a groan shook my chamber. I slept, for the cloud
of repose returned;
But morning dawn'd heavy upon me. I rose to bring my Prince
heaven-utter'd counsel.
Hear my counsel, O King! and send forth thy Generals; the command
of Heaven is upon thee!
Then do thou command, O King! to shut up this Assembly in their
final home;
Let thy soldiers possess this city of rebels, that threaten to bathe
their feet
In the blood of Nobility, trampling the heart and the head; let the
Bastille devour
These rebellious seditious; seal them up, O Anointed! in everlasting
chains.'
He sat down: a damp cold pervaded the Nobles, and monsters of
worlds unknown
Swam round them, watching to be delivered-when Aumont, whose
chaos-born soul
Eternally wand'ring, a comet and swift-falling fire, pale enter'd the
chamber.
Before the red Council he stood, like a man that returns from hollow
graves: -

'Awe-surrounded, alone thro' the army, a fear and a with'ring blight
blown by the north,
The Abbe de Sieyes from the Nation's Assembly, O Princes and
Generals of France,
Unquestioned, unhindered! Awe-struck are the soldiers; a dark
shadowy man in the form
Of King Henry the Fourth walks before him in fires; the captains
like men bound in chains
Stood still as he pass'd: he is come to the Louvre, O King, with a
message to thee!
The strong soldiers tremble, the horses their manes bow, and the
guards of thy palace are fled!'

Uprose awful in his majestic beams Bourbon's strong Duke; his
proud sword, from his thigh
Drawn, he threw on the earth: the Duke of Bretagne and the Earl
of Bourgogne
Rose inflam'd, to and fro in the chamber,' like thunder-clouds ready
to burst.

'What damp all our fires, O spectre of Henry!' said Bourbon, 'and
rend the flames
From the head of our King? Rise, Monarch of France! command me,
and I will lead
This army of superstition at large, that the ardour of noble souls,
quenchless,
May yet burn in France, nor our shoulders be plough'd with the
furrows of poverty.'

Then Orleans, generous as mountains, arose and unfolded his robe,
and put forth
His benevolent hand, looking on the Archbishops, who changed as
pale as lead,
Would have risen but could not: his voice issued harsh grating;
instead of words harsh hissings
Shook the chamber; he ceas'd abash'd. Then Orleans spoke; all was
silent.
He breath'd on them, and said: 'O Princes of fire, whose flames are
for growth, not consuming,
Fear not dreams, fear not visions, nor be you dismay'd with sorrows
which flee at the morning!
Can the fires of Nobility ever be quench'd, or the stars by a
stormy night?
Is the body diseas'd when the members are healthful? can the man
be bound in sorrow
Whose ev'ry function is fill'd with its fiery desire? can the soul,
whose brain and heart
Cast their rivers in equal tides thro' the great Paradise, languish
because the feet,
Hands, head, bosom, and parts of love follow their high
breathing joy?
And can Nobles be bound when the people are free, or God weep
when his children are happy?
Have you never seen Fayette's forehead, or Mirabeau's eyes, or the
shoulders of Target,
Or Bailly the strong foot of France, or Clermont the terrible voice,
and your robes
Still retain their own crimson?- Mine never yet faded, for fire
delights in its form!
But go, merciless man, enter into the infinite labyrinth of another's
brain
Ere thou measure the circle that he shall run. Go, thou cold recluse,
into the fires
Of another's high flaming rich bosom, and return unconsum'd, and
write laws.
If thou canst not do this, doubt thy theories, learn to consider all
men as thy equals,
Thy brethren, and not as thy foot or thy hand, unless thou first
fearest to hurt them.'

The Monarch stood up; the strong Duke his sword to its golden
scabbard return'd;
The Nobles sat round like clouds on the mountains, when the storm
is passing away: -
'Let the Nation's Ambassador come among Nobles, like incense of
the valley!'
Aumont went out and stood in the hollow porch, his ivory wand
in his hand;
A cold orb of disdain revolv'd round him, and covered his soul
with snows eternal.
Great Henry's soul shuddered, a whirlwind and fire tore furious
from his angry bosom;
He indignant departed on horses of heav'n. Then the Abbe de
Sieyes rais'd his feet
On the steps of the Louvre; like a voice of God following a storm,
the Abbe follow'd
The pale fires of Aumont into the chamber; as a father that bows
to his son,
Whose rich fields inheriting spread their old glory, so the voice
of the people bowed
Before the ancient seat of the kingdom and mountains to be
renewed.

'Hear, O heavens of France! the voice of the people, arising from
valley and hill,
O'erclouded with power. Hear the voice of valleys, the voice of
meek cities,
Mourning oppressed on village and field, till the village and field
is a waste.
For the husbandman weeps at blights of the fife, and blasting of
trumpets consume
The souls of mild France; the pale mother nourishes her child to
the deadly slaughter.
When the heavens were seal'd with a stone, and the terrible sun
clos'd in an orb, and the moon
Rent from the nations, and each star appointed for watchers of
night,
The millions of spirits immortal were bound in the rains of sulphur
heaven
To wander enslav'd; black, depress'd in dark ignorance, kept in
awe with the whip
To worship terrors, bread from the blood of revenge and breath
of desire
In bestial forms, or more terrible men; till the dawn of our peaceful
morning,
Till dawn, till morning, till the breaking of clouds, and swelling of
winds, and the universal voice;
Till man raise his darken'd limbs out of the caves of night. His
eyes and his heart
Expand-Where is Space? where, O Sun, is thy dwelling? where
thy tent, O faint slumb'rous Moon?
Then the valleys of France shall cry to the soldier: "Throw down
thy sword and musket,
And run and embrace the meek peasant." Her Nobles shall hear
and shall weep, and put off
The red robe of terror, the crown of oppression, the shoes of
contempt, and unbuckle
The girdle of war from the desolate earth. Then the Priest in
his thund'rous cloud
Shall weep, bending to earth, embracing the valleys, and putting
his hand to the plough,
Shall say: "No more I curse thee; but now I will bless thee:
no more in deadly black
Devour thy labour; nor lift up a cloud in thy heavens,
O laborious plough;
That the wild raging millions, that wander in forests, and howl
in law-blasted wastes,
Strength madden'd with slavery, honesty bound in the dens
of superstition,
May sing in the village, and shout in the harvest, and woo
in pleasant gardens
Their once savage loves, now beaming with knowledge, with gentle
awe adorned;
And the saw, and the hammer, the chisel, the pencil, the pen,
and the instruments
Of heavenly song sound in the wilds once forbidden, to teach
the laborious ploughman
And shepherd, deliver'd from clouds of war, from pestilence,
from night-fear, from murder,
From filling, from stifling, from hunger, from cold,
from slander, discontent and sloth,
That walk in beasts and birds of night, driven back by the sandy
desert,
Like pestilent fogs round cities of men; and the happy earth sing
in its course,
The mild peaceable nations be opened to heav'n, and men walk
with their fathers in bliss."
Then hear the first voice of the morning: "Depart, O clouds
of night, and no more
Return; be withdrawn cloudy war, troops of warriors depart,
nor around our peaceable city
Breathe fires; but ten miles from Paris let all be peace,
nor a soldier be seen!"'

He ended: the wind of contention arose, and the clouds cast their
shadows; the Princes
Like the mountains of France, whose aged trees utter an awful
voice, and their branches
Are shatter'd; till gradual a murmur is heard descending into
the valley,
Like a voice in the vineyards of Burgundy when grapes are shaken
on grass,
Like the low voice of the labouring man, instead of the shout
of joy;
And the palace appear'd like a cloud driven abroad; blood ran down
the ancient pillars.
Thro' the cloud a deep thunder, the Duke of Burgundy, delivers
the King's command: -

'Seest thou yonder dark castle, that moated around, keeps this
city of Paris in awe?
Go, command yonder tower, saying: "Bastille, depart! and take
thy shadowy course;
Overstep the dark river, thou terrible tower, and get thee up
into the country ten miles.
And thou black southern prison, move along the dusky road to
Versailles; there
Frown on the gardens" - and, if it obey and depart, then the
King will disband
This war-breathing army; but, if it refuse, let the Nation's
Assembly thence learn
That this army of terrors, that prison of horrors, are the bands
of the murmuring kingdom.'

Like the morning star arising above the black waves, when
a shipwreck'd soul sighs for morning,
Thro' the ranks, silent, walk'd the Ambassador back to the Nation's
Assembly, and told
The unwelcome message. Silent they heard; then a thunder roll'd
round loud and louder;
Like pillars of ancient halls and ruins of times remote,
they sat.
Like a voice from the dim pillars Mirabeau rose; the thunders
subsided away;
A rushing of wings around him was heard as he brighten'd,
and cried out aloud:
'Where is the General of the Nation?' The walls re-echo'd:
'Where is the General of the Nation?'

Sudden as the bullet wrapp'd in his fire, when brazen cannons
rage in the field,
Fayette sprung from his seat saying 'Ready!' Then bowing like
clouds, man toward man, the Assembly
Like a Council of Ardours seated in clouds, bending over
the cities of men,
And over the armies of strife, where their children are
marshall'd together to battle,
They murmuring divide; while the wind sleeps beneath,
and the numbers are counted in silence,
While they vote the removal of War, and the pestilence weighs
his red wings in the sky.

So Fayette stood silent among the Assembly, and the votes were
given, and the numbers numb'red;
And the vote was that Fayette should order the army to remove
ten miles from Paris.

The aged Sun rises appall'd from dark mountains, and gleams
a dusky beam
On Fayette; but on the whole army a shadow, for a cloud
on the eastern hills
Hover'd, and stretch'd across the city, and across the army,
and across the Louvre.
Like a flame of fire he stood before dark ranks, and before
expecting captains:
On pestilent vapours around him flow frequent spectres
of religious men, weeping
In winds; driven out of the abbeys, their naked souls shiver
in keen open air;
Driven out by the fiery cloud of Voltaire, and thund'rous rocks
of Rousseau,
They dash like foam against the ridges of the army, uttering
a faint feeble cry.

Gleams of fire streak the heavens, and of sulphur the earth,
from Fayette as he lifted his hand;
But silent he stood, till all the officers rush round him like
waves
Round the shore of France, in day of the British flag, when
heavy cannons
Affright the coasts, and the peasant looks over the sea
and wipes a tear:
Over his head the soul of Voltaire shone fiery; and over the army
Rousseau his white cloud
Unfolded, on souls of war, living terrors, silent list'ning
toward Fayette.
His voice loud inspir'd by liberty, and by spirits of the dead,
thus thunder'd: -

'The Nation's Assembly command that the Army remove ten miles
from Paris;
Nor a soldier be seen in road or in field, till the Nation
command return.'

Rushing along iron ranks glittering, the officers each to his
station
Depart, and the stern captain strokes his proud steed, and
in front of his solid ranks
Waits the sound of trumpet; captains of foot stand each by his
cloudy drum:
Then the drum beats, and the steely ranks move, and trumpets
rejoice in the sky.
Dark cavalry, like clouds fraught with thunder, ascend on the
hills, and bright infantry, rank
Behind rank, to the soul-shaking drum and shrill fife, along
the roads glitter like fire.

The noise of trampling, the wind of trumpets, smote the Palace
walls with a blast.
Pale and cold sat the King in midst of his Peers, and his noble
heart sunk, and his pulses
Suspended their motion; a darkness crept over his eyelids,
and chill cold sweat
Sat round his brows faded in faint death; his Peers pale like
mountains of the dead,
Cover'd with dews of night, groaning, shaking forests and floods.
The cold newt,
And snake, and damp toad on the kingly foot crawl, or croak
on the awful knee,
Shedding their slime; in folds of the robe the crown'd adder
builds and hisses
From stony brows: shaken the forests of France, sick the kings
of the nations,
And the bottoms of the world were open'd, and the graves
of archangels unseal'd:
The enormous dead lift up their pale fires and look over
the rocky cliffs.

A faint heat from their fires reviv'd the cold Louvre; the frozen
blood reflow'd.
Awful uprose the King; him the Peers foliow'd; they saw
the courts of the Palace
Forsaken, and Paris without a soldier, silent. For the noise
was gone up
And follow'd the army; and the Senate in peace sat beneath
morning's beam.

END OF THE FIRST BOOK.

FRANCUZSKAYA REVOLYUCIYA

KNIGA PERVAYA

Smert' nad Evropoj navisla; viden'ya i tuchi na Franciyu
pali -
Slavnye tuchi! Nichtozhnyj korol' zametalsya na mechenom
smert'yu
Lozhe, okutan mogil'nym tumanom; oslabla desnica;
i holod,
Pryanuv iz plech po kostyam, vlilsya v skipetr, chrezmerno
tyazhelyj dlya smertnoj
Dlani - bessil'noj otnyne terzat' i krovavit' cvetushchie
gory.

Gory bol'nye! Stenayut v otvet korolevskoj toske
vertogrady.
Tucha vo vzore ego. Nekker, vstan'! Nastupilo
zloveshchee utro.
Pyat' tysyach let my prospali. YA vstal, no dusha prebyvaet
vo dreme;
Vizhu v okne, kak sedymi staruhami stali
francuzskie gory.

ZHalkij, za Nekkera derzhitsya, vhodit Korol' v zal
Bol'shogo Soveta.
Gory tenistye gromom, lesa tihim grayan'em stonut
vo strahe.
Tucha prorocheskih izoblichenij navisla nad kryshej
dvorcovoj.
Sorok muzhej, zatochennyh pechal'yu v temnicu dushi
korolevskoj,
Kak praotcy nashi - v sumerkah vechnyh, obstali bol'nogo
vladyku,
Franciyu perekrichat' obrechenno pytayas', vozzvavshuyu
k tuche.
Ibo plebei uzhe sobralis' v Zale Nacij.
Strana sodrognulas'!
Nebo francuzskoe nedoumenno drozhit vkrug rasteryannyh.
Temen'
Pervovremen potryasaet Parizh, sotryasaet
Bastilii steny;
Strazh i Pravitel' vo mgle nablyudayut, strashas', narastayushchij
uzhas;
Tysyacha vernyh soldat dyshit tuchej krovavoj Poryadka
i Vlasti;
CHernoj pechal'yu CHumlennyj zaryskal, kak lev, po chudovishchnym
tyur'mam,
Ryk ego slyshen i v Luvre, ne gasnet pod vetrom sudilishcha
fakel;
Moshchnye myshcy trudya, on petlyaet, ognem opalyaet
Zakony,
Harkaet chernoyu krov'yu zavetov, krovavoj chumoyu
ohvachen,
Silyas' porvat' vse tesnej i bol'nej ego telo
shchemyashchie cepi,
Polupridushennym volkom, k zhil'cam Semi Bashen vzyvaya,
hripit on.
V Bashne po imeni Uzhas byl uznik za ruki, i nogi,
i sheyu
S kamnem povenchan cepyami; Zmij v dushu zapolz i zapryatalsya
v serdce,
Sveta strashas', kak v rasshcheline skal'noj, - prorochestvo
stalo Proroku
Vechnym proklyat'em. A v Bashne po imeni T'ma byl odet
kandalami
(Zven'ya kovalis' vse mel'che, ved' plot' ustupala zhelezu -
i zhalo
Goluyu kost') korolevich ZHeleznaya Maska - Lev Vechnyj
v nevole.
V Bashne po imeni Zverstvo skelet, otyagchennyj cepyami,
prostersya,
Dozhelta vygryzen Vechnym CHervem za otkaz opravdat'
prestuplen'ya.
V Bashne po imeni Cerkov' nevinnosti mstili, kotoraya
skverne
Ne pokorilas': nozhom presekla rastlevayushchij natisk
prelata, -
Nyne, kak hishchnye pticy, terzali ej telo
Sem' Pytok Geenny.
V Bashne po imeni Pravoporyadok v noru s detskij grob vtisnut
starec.
Vsya zarosla, kak lianami melkoe more, sedoj borodoyu
Kamera, gde v hlad nochnoj i v dnevnuyu zharu sliz'
davnishnego straha
Schityval on so steny v pis'menah pautiny - sosed
skorpionov,
Zmej i chervej, ravnodushno vdyhavshih muchen'em zagazhennyj
vozduh:
On po veleniyu sovesti s kafedry v grade Parizhe
pomerkshim
Dusham veshchal chudesa. Zatochen byl silach, palachom
osleplennyj,
V Bashne po imeni Rok - otsekli emu ruki i nogi, skovali
Cep'yu, nispushchennoj sverhu, seredku, - i tol'ko providcheskoj
siloj
On oshchushchal, chto otchayan'e - ryadom, otchayan'e polzaet vechno,
Kak chelovek - na loktyah i kolenyah... A byl - favorit
favorita.
Nu, a v sed'moj, samoj merzostnoj, Bashne, kotoraya nazvana
Bozh'ej,
Plot' o zheleza sodrav, god za godom metalsya po krugu
bezumec,
Tshchetno k Svobode vzyvaya - na tom on uma i lishilsya, -
i gluho
Volny Bezum'ya i Haosa bilis' o bereg dushi;
byl vinoven
On v oskorblen'e velichestva, pamyatnom v Luvre i slyshnom
v Versale.
Drognuli steny temnic, i iz treshchin poslyshalis' probnye
klichi.
Smolkli. Poslyshalsya smeh. Smolk i on. Nachal svet polyhat'
vozle bashen.
Ibo plebei uzhe sobralis' v Zale Nacij: goryuchie iskry
S fakela solnca v pustynyu nesut krasoty zhivotvornoe
plamya,
V gorod myatushchijsya. Otbleski lovyat mladency i plakat'
konchayut
Na materinskoj, s Zemlej samoj shozhej, grudi. I povsyudu
v Parizhe
Prezhnie stony stihayut. Ved' mysl' o Sobran'e neschastnym
dovleet,
CHtoby izgnat' proch' iz dum, s ulic proch' rokovye koshmary
Bylogo.

No pod tyazheloj zavesoj skryt Luvr: i kovarnyj Korol',
i klevrety;
Drevnie strahi vlastitelej vhodyat syuda, i tolpyatsya,
i plachut.
V chas, kogda gromom trevozhit groby, Korolej vsej zemli
lihoradit.
K tuche vozzvala strana - alchet voli, - i cepi trojnye
nispali.
K tuche vozzvala strana - alchet voli, - t'ma drevnyaya brodit
po Luvru,
Slovno vo dni razorenij, proigrannyh bitv i pozora,
tolpyatsya
ZHirnye teni, otchayan'em smytye dyuny, vokrug gosudarya;
Strah otpechatan zhelezom na licah, otdavleny mramorom
ruki,
V plameni krasnogo gneva i v nedoumenii tyazhkom
bezmolvny.

Vspyhnul Korol', no, kak chernye tuchi, tolpoj priblizhennye
vstali,
T'moyu okutav svetilo, no bryznul ogon' vencenosnogo
serdca.
Molvil Korol': "|to pyat' tysyach let potaennogo straha
vernulis'
Razom, chtob peretryasti nashe Nebo i razvoroshit'
pogreben'ya.
Slyshu, skvoz' tyazhkie tuchi neschastiya, drevnih monarhov
prizyvy.
Vizhu, oni podnimayutsya v savanah, svita vstaet vsled
za nimi.
Stonut: begi ot beschinstva zhivushchih! vse uzniki vyrvalis'
nashi.
V zemlyu zarojsya! Zapryach'sya v skelet! Zaberis'
v zapechatannyj cherep!
My poistleli. Nas net. My ne znachimsya v spiskah zhivushchih.
Speshi k nam
V kamni i korni derev zatait'sya. Ved' uzniki
vyrvalis' nyne.
K nam pospeshi, k nam vo prah - gnev, bolezn', i bezum'e,
i burya minuyut!"

Molvil, i smolk, i chelo pochernelo zabotoj, nasupilis'
brovi, -
A za oknom, na holmah, on uzrel, zagorelos', kak fakely,
vojsko
Protiv prisyagi, ogon' pobezhal ot soldata k soldatu, -
i nebom,
Tugo natyanutym, grud' ego stala; on sel; seli
drevnie pery.

Starshij iz nih, Dyuk Burgundskij, podnyalsya togda odesnuyu
vladyki,
Krasen licom, kak vino iz ego vertograda;
pahnulo vojnoyu
Iz ego krasnyh odezhd, on vozdel svoyu strashnuyu
krasnuyu ruku,
Strashnuyu krov' vozveshchaya, i, kak vertograd nad snopami
pshenicy,
Volya krovavaya Dyuka navisla nad blednym bessil'nym
Sovetom, -
Kuchka detej, tuchka svetlaya slezy lila v plamen' mantii
krasnoj, -
Rech' ego, slovno purpurnaya Osen' na pole pshenicy, upala.

"Stanet li, - molvil on, - mramornyj Neba chertog
glinobitnoj zemlyankoj,
Gruboj skam'eyu - Zemlya? ZHatvu v shest' tysyach let
soberut li muzhlany?
V silah li Nekker, zhenevskij prostak, svoim zhalkim serpom
zamahnut'sya
Na plodorodnuyu Franciyu i dinasticheskij purpur, svyazuya
Carstva zemnye v snopy, drevnij Rycarstva les vyrubaya
pod koren',
Radost' srazhen'ya - vragu, vlast' - sud'be, mech i skipetr
otdavaya sozvezd'yam,
Veru i pravo ognyu predavaya, vekami ispytannyj razum
V glubi zemli horonya i lyudej ostavlyaya nagimi
na skalah
Vechnosti, gde Vechnyj Lev i Orel nenasytno terzayut
dobychu?
CHto zhe vy sdelali, pery, chtob slezy i veshchie sny
obmanuli,
CHtoby protivu zemli ne vosstal ee vechnyj posev sornym
cvetom?
CHto zhe predprinyali v chas, kogda gorod myatezhnyj
uzhe okruzhili
Zvezdnye duhi? Vash drevnij voinstvennyj klich probudil li
Evropu?
Koni zarzhali l' pri vozglasah trub? Potyanulis' k oruzhiyu l'
ruki?
V nebe parizhskom kruzhatsya orly, ozhidaya pobednogo
znaka, -
Tak nazovi im dobychu, Korol', - ukazhi na Versal'
Lafajetu!"

Smolk, plameneya v molchan'e. Krovavym tumanom podernutyj
Nekker
(Kriki i bran' za oknom,) promolchal, no kak grom nad
grobami molchan'e.
Molcha lezhali luga, molcha stoyali vetra, i dvoe
molchashchih -
Pahar' i zhenshchina v slabosti - trup ego slov obmyvali
lyubov'yu,
Deti glyadeli v mogilu - tak Nekker molchal, tak lico pryatal
v tuchu.

Vstal, opirayas' na gory, Korol' i vzglyanul na velikoe
vojsko,
V nebe zatmivshee krov'yu sverkan'e zakata, i molvil
Burgundcu:
"Istinnyj Lev ese ti! Ty odin uteshen'e v velikoj
kruchine,
Ibo francuzskaya znat' uzh ne verit v menya, pis'mena
Valtasara
V serdce moem prochitav. Nekker, proch'! Ty - lovec, stavshij
nyne dobychej.
Ne dlya glumlen'ya nad nami sozvali my SHtaty.
Ne na porugan'e
Rozdali nashi dary. Slyshu: tochat mechi, slyshu: ladyat
mushkety,
Vizhu: glaza nalivayutsya krov'yu reshimosti v gradah
i vesyah,
Drevnih chudes nad stranoj opechaleny vzory,
rydayut povsyudu
Deti i zhenshchiny, smerchi somnenij royatsya, pechal'
ogneveet,
V rycaryah - robost'. Molchi i proshchaj! Smerchi stihnut,
kak drevle stihali!"
S tem on umolk, plameneya, - na Nekkera krasnye tuchi
naplyli.
Placha, Starik pospeshil udalit'sya v toske po rodimoj
ZHeneve.
Detskij i zhenskij zvuchal emu vsled plach unylyj vdol' ulic
parizhskih.
No v Zale Nacij mgnovenno proznali ob etom pozornom
izgnan'e.

Vse zh ne umerilsya gnev blagorodnyh, a tuchej vskipel
grozovoyu.
Gromche zhe vseh vozopil, proklinaya Parizh,
ego Arhiepiskop.
V sernom dymu on predstal, v klokotan'e ognej i v krovavoj
odezhde.

"Slyshish', Lyudovik, ugrozy Nebes! Tak ispej, poka est' eshche
vremya,
Mudrosti nashej! YA spal v bashne zlatoj, no deyaniya zlobnye
cherni
Tuchej navisli nad snom - ya prosnulsya - menya razbudilo
viden'e:
Holodnorukoe, dryahloe, snega belee, tryasyas'
i mercaya,
Taya tumanom promozglym i slezy ronyaya na chahlye shcheki,
Prizraki mel'che u nog ego v savanah kroshechnyh roem
mel'kali,
Arfu derzhali v molchan'e odni, i mahali kadilom
drugie;
Tret'i lezhali mertvy, miriady chetvertyh
vdali golosili.
Vzorom okinuv siyu verenicu pozora, rek
starshij iz duhov
Golosom rezche i tishe kuznechika: "Plach moj vnimayut
v abbatstvah,
Ibo Gospod', pochitavshijsya vstar', stal otnyne lampadoj
bez masla,
Ibo proklyat'e gremit nad stranoyu, kotoruyu plemya
bezbozhnyh
Nynche terzaet, kak hishchniki, vzory tupya, i trudyas',
i otvergnuv
Svyatost' zakonov moih, yazykom zabyvaya zvuchan'e
molitvy,
Splyunuv Osannu iz ust. Dveri Haosa tresnuli, t'my
nepodobnyh
Vyrvalis' vihrem ognya - i svyashchennye groby
pozorno razversty,
Znat' omertvela, i Cerkov' padet vsled za neyu, i stanet
pustynya:
CHernoyu - mitra, i mertvoj - korona, a skipetr i carstvennyj
posoh
S grudoj kostej gosudarevyh vkupe istleyut v chas
unichtozhen'ya;
Zvon kolokol'nyj, i golos subboty, i penie angel'skih
sonmov
Dnem - p'yanoj pesnej rasputnic, a noch'yu - nevinnosti
voplyami stanet;
Vyronyat plug, i padut v borozdu - nechestny, neprostimy,
neblagi,
Mytar' razvratnyj zamenit vo hrame zhreca;
tot, kto proklyat, - svyatogo;
Nishchij i Car' lyagut ryadom, i chervi, ih glozha, spletutsya
v ob®yat'e!"
Tak molvil prizrak - i grom sotryasal moyu kel'yu. No tuchej
pokoya
Son snizoshel na menya. A s utra ya uzrel porugan'e derzhavy
I, sodrogayas', poshel k gosudaryu s otecheskim Neba sovetom.
Slushaj menya, o Korol', i veli svoim marshalam - v delo!
Gospodne
Slushaj reshen'e: speshi sokrushit' v ih poslednem pribezhishche
SHtaty,
Daj soldatne ovladet' etim gradom myatezhnym, gde krov'yu
dvoryanstva
Nogi reshili omyt', rastoptav emu grud' i chelo;
pust' poglotit
|tih bezumcev Bastiliya, Miropomazannik, vechnoyu t'moyu!"
Molvil i sel - i holodnaya drozh' ohvatila vel'mozh,
i ochnulis'
Monstry bezvestnyh mirov, ozhidaya, kogda ih spasut
i okliknut;
Vstal dyuk Omon, ch'ya dusha, kak kometa, ne vedaya celi,
ni srokov,
V mire nosilas' haosorozhdennoj, nesya porugan'e i gibel', -
Kak iz mogily vosstav, on predstal v etot mig pred krovavym
Sovetom:
"Brosheny armiej, predany naciej, mecheny skoroyu smert'yu,
Slushajte, pery, i slushaj, prelat, i vnemli, o Korol'!
Iz mogily
Vyrvalsya prizrak Navarrca, razbuzhen abbatom Sijesom
iz SHtatov.
Tam, gde prohodit, spesha vo dvorec, vse nemeyut i chuvstvuyut
uzhas,
Znaya o tom, dlya chego on mogilu pokinul
do Sudnogo chasa.
Besyatsya koni, trepeshchut geroi, dvorcovaya
strazha bezhala!"

Tut podnyalsya samyj sil'nyj i smelyj iz otpryskov krovi
Burbonskoj,
Gercog Bretanskij i gercog Burgonskij, mechom potryasaya
otcovskim,
Plamennosushchij i gromom gotovyj, kak chernaya tucha,
vzorvat'sya:
"Genrih! kak plamya otvest' ot glavy gosudarya? Kak plamenem
vyzhech'
Korni vosstan'ya? Veli - i vozglavlyu ya voinstvo
predubezhden'ya,
Daby dvoryanskogo gneva ogon' polyhal nad stranoyu
velikoj,
Daby nikto ne posmel polozhit' blagorodnye vyi
pod lemeh".

Dyuk Orleanskij vozdvigsya, kak gornye kryazhi, moguch
i gromaden,
Glyadya na Arhiepiskopa - tot stal belee svinca, -
popytalsya
Vstat', da ne smog, zakrichal - vyshlo sipom, slova
prevratilis' v shipen'e,
Drognul - i drognula zala, - i zamer, - i zagovoril
Orleanec:
"Mudrye pery, vladyki ognya, ne zadut', a razdut' ego
dolzhno!
Snov i videnij ne bojtes' - nochnye pechali prohodyat
s rassvetom!
Burya l' polnochnaya - zvezdam ugroza? Muzhlany li - plameni
znati?
Telo l' bol'no, kogda vse ego chleny zdorovy? Unyn'yu li
vremya,
Esli zhelaniya zhguchie oburevayut? Dushe li tomit'sya, -
Serdce kotoroj i mozg v dve reki ravnomerno struyatsya
po Rayu, -
Lish' ottogo, chto konechnosti, grud', golova i prichinnoe
mesto
Ognennym schast'em ob®yaty? Tak mozhet li stat' ugnetennym
dvoryanstvo,
Esli svoboden narod? Il' vosplachet Gospod', esli schastlivy
lyudi?
Ili prezreem my vzor Mirabo i reshitel'nyj vid
Lafajeta,
Plechi Tarzhe, i osanku Baji, i Klermona otchayannyj golos,
Ne postupivshis' velich'em? CHto, krome kak plamya,
otradno petarde?
Net, o Bezdushnyj! Sperva labirintom projdi beskonechnym
chuzhogo
Mozga, potom uzh prorochestvuj. V gordoe plamya,
holodnyj zatvornik,
Serdca chuzhogo vojdi, - ne sgori, - a potom uzh tolkuj
o zakonah.
Esli ne smozhesh' - otrin' svoj zavet i nachni privykat'
postepenno
Dumat' o nih, kak o ravnyh, - o brat'yah tvoih, a ne chlenah
telesnyh,
Vlasti soznan'ya pokornyh. I prezhde vsego nauchis'
ih ne ranit'".

S mesta podnyalsya Korol'; mech v zlatye nozhny vozvratil
Orleanec.
Znat' kolyhalas', kak tucha nad kryazhem, kogda porasseetsya
burya.
"Vyslushat' nuzhno poslanca tolpy. Svezhest' myslej nam budet
kak ladan!"

V nishe pustoj vstal Omon i potryas svoim posohom kosti
slonovoj;
Zlost' i prezren'e vilis' vkrug nego, slovno tuchi
vkrug gor, zastilaya
Vechnymi snegami dushu. I Genrih, istorgnuv iz serdca
plamen'ya,
Gnevno hlestnul ispolinskih nebesnyh konej i pokinul
sobran'e.
V zalu abbat de Sijes podnyalsya po dvorcovym stupenyam -
i srazu,
Kak vsled za gromom i molniej golos gnevlivyj gryadet
Iegovy,
Blednyj Omona ogon' pretvoril v sataninskoe plamya
svyashchennik;
Slovno otec, uveshchayushchij vzdornogo syna, sgubivshego
nivu,
On obratilsya k Prestolu i drevnim goram,
uprezhdaya brozhen'e.
"Nebo Otchizny, vnemli glasu teh, kto vzyvaet s holmov
i iz dolov,
Zastlany tuchami sily. Vnemli poselyanam,
vnemli gorozhanam.
Grady i vesi vosstali, daby unichtozhit' i grady,
i vesi.
Pahar' pri zvukah rozhka zarydal, ibo v pen'e nebesnoj
fanfary -
Smert' krotkoj Francii; mat' svoe chado rastit
dlya ubijstvennoj bojni.
Zryu, nebesa zapechatany kamnem i solnce
na strashnoj orbite,
Zryu zagashennoj lunu i pomerkshimi vechnye zvezdy
nad mirom,
V koem likuyut besschetnye duhi na sernistyh neba oblomkah,
Osvobozhdennye, chernye, v temnom nevezhestve
nesokrushimy,
Obozhestvlyaya ubijstvo, plodyas' ot vozmezd'ya,
dysha vozhdelen'em,
V zverskom oblich'e il' v oblike mnogo strashnej -
v chelovecheskoj persti,
Tak do teh por, poka utro Pokoya i Mira, Zari
i Rassveta,
Mirnoe utro ne snidet, i tuchi ne sginut, i Glas
ne razdastsya
Vseobnimayushchij - i chelovek iz peshchery u Nochi ne vyrvet
CHleny svoi zatenennye, okom i serdcem prostranstvo
pronzaya, -
Tshchetno! Ni Solnca! Ni zvezd!.. I k soldatu vosplachut
francuzskie doly:
"Mech i mushket uroni, pobratajsya s krest'yaninom krotkim!"
I, placha,
Snimut dvoryane s Otchizny krovavuyu mantiyu zverstva
i straha,
I pritesnen'ya venec, i botforty prezren'ya, - i poyas
razvyazhut
Alyj na tele Zemli. I togda iz gromovyya tuchi
Svyashchennik,
Zemlyu laskaya, polya obnimaya, kasayas' naperstviem pluga,
Molvit, vosplakav: "Snimayu s vas, chada, proklyat'e
i blagoslovlyayu.
Nyne vash trud izo t'my izoshel, i nad plugom net tuchi
nebesnoj,
Ibo bluzhdavshie v chashchah i vyvshie v proklyatyh bogom
pustynyah,
Vechno bezumnye v rabstve i v doblesti plenniki
predubezhdenij
Nyne poyut v derevnyah, i smeyutsya v polyah, i gulyayut
s podruzhkoj;
Ran'she dikarskaya, stala ih strast', svetom znan'ya luchas',
blagorodnoj;
Molot, rezec i soha, karandash, i bumaga, i zvonkaya
flejta
Nyne zvuchat nevozbranno povsyudu i chestnogo paharya
uchat
I pastuha - dvuh spasennyh ot tuchi voennoj,
chumy i razboya,
Strahov nochnyh, udusheniya, goloda, holoda,
lzhi i dosady,
Zveryu i ptice nochnoj vechno svojstvennyh - i otletevshih
otnyne
Vihrem chumnym ot zhilishcha lyudej. I zemlya na schastlivoj
orbite
Mirnye nacii prosit k blazhenstvu prizvat', kak ih predkov,
u Neba".
Vsled za svyashchennikom Utro samo vozzovet:
"Da rasseyutsya tuchi!
Tuchi, chrevatye gromom vojny i pozharom ubijstv
i nasilij!
Da ne ostanetsya dole vo Francii ni odnogo
ratoborca!"

Konchil - i veter razdora po Zale pronessya, i tuchi
sgustilis';
Byli vel'mozhi, kak gory, kak gornye chashchi, tryasomye
vihrem;
I, nezametno v shatan'e derev, v treske such'ev, ros shepot
v doline
Ili zhe shoroh - kak budto sryvalis' v travu vinogradnye
grozd'ya,
Ili zhe golos - natruzhennyj krik zemlepashca, ne vozglas
vostorga.
Tuche, chrevatoj ognem, upodobilsya Luvr, zastruilas'
po drevnim
Mramoram alaya krov'; Dyuk Burgundskij dozhdalsya monarshego
slova:

"Vidish' tot zamok nad rvom, chto vnushaet Parizhu opasku?
Skomanduj
|toj gromade: "Bastiliya pala! Soshel zamok prizrachnyj
s mesta,
Tronulsya v put', cherez reku shagnul, otoshel ot Parizha
na desyat'
Mil'. Tvoj chered, nepristupnaya YUzhnaya krepost'. Naprav'sya
k Versalyu,
Hmuro vzglyani v te sady!" I kol' vypolnit eto ona,
my raspustim
Armiyu nashu, chto dyshit vojnoj, a kol' net -my vnushim
Assamblee:
Armiya strahov i tyur'my muchenij sut' cepi strane
vozroptavshej".

Slovno zvezda, vozveshchaya rassvet poterpevshim
korablekrushen'e,
Molcha napravilsya gorestnyj vestnik pred Nacional'nym
sobran'em
S gorestnoj vest'yu predstat'. Molcha slushali. Molcha,
no gromkie gromy
Gromche i gromche gremeli. Oblomki kolonn, prah vremen -
tak molchali.
Slovno iz drevnih ruin, k nim vozzval Mirabo - gromy stihli
mgnovenno,
Hlopan'e kryl bylo vkrug ego krika: "Uslyshat' hotim
Lafajeta!".
Steny otkliknulis' ehom: "Uslyshat' hotim Lafajeta!".
I v plamya, -
Molnienosno, kak pulya, chto vzvizgnula v znak ob®yavleniya
boya, -
S mesta sorvavshis', "Pora!" zakrichal Lafajet.
I Sobran'e
V tuchah zastylo bezmolvno, kolchan, polnyj molnij,
nad gradami zhizni.
Gradami zhizni i ratyami shvatki, gde deti ih shli drug
na druga;
Golosovali, shepchas', - vihr' u nog, - golosa podschitali
v molchan'e,
I otkazali vojne, i CHuma krasnokrylaya v nebo
metnulas'.

Molcha pred nimi stoyal Lafajet, ozhidaya ishoda ih tyazhby, -
I prikazali vojskam otojti za chertu v desyat' mil'
ot Parizha.

Staroe solnce, sadyas' za goroj, ozarilo luchom
Lafajeta,
No v glubochajshej teni bylo vojsko: s vostochnyh holmov
naplyvala
I prostiralas' nad gorodom, armiej, Luvrom
gigantskaya tucha.
Plameni svetloyu dolej stoyal on nad plameni
temnoyu dolej;
Tam besnovalis' ryady deputatov i zhdali reshen'ya soldaty,
Placha, chumnoj verenicej struilis' viden'ya priverzhencev
very -
Golye dushi, iz chernyh abbatstv vyryvayas' besstydno
na bozhij
Svet, gde krovavaya tucha Vol'tera, i groznye skaly
ZHan-ZHaka
Mir zatenyali, oni razbivalis', kak volny,
o vystupy vojska.
Nebo zardelos' ognem, i zemlya sernym dymom sokrylas'
ot vzora,
Ibo vosstal Lafajet, no v molchan'e po-prezhnemu,
a oficery
Bilis' v nego, razbivayas', kak volny o Francii mysy
v godinu
Bitvy s Britaniej, krovi i vzora krest'yanskoj slezy
cherez more.
Ibo nad nim vosparyal, plameneya, Vol'ter, a nad vojskom -
ZHan-ZHaka
Belaya tucha plyla, i, razbuzheny, vojnorozhdennye
zverstva
L'nuli ko gromu rechej, vdohnovlennyh svobodoj i mysl'yu
o mertvyh:
"Kol' poreshili vy v Nacional'nom sobran'e vojskam
udalit'sya,
Tak i postupim. No zhdem ot Sobran'ya i Nacii novyh
prikazov!"

Stronulos' vojsko zheleznoe s ognennym gromom i grohotom
s mesta;
ZHdali signal'noj truby oficery, vskochili v sedlo
vestovye;
Bliz barabanshchikov vernyh stoyali, skorbya,
kapitany pehoty;
Podan byl znak, i doros do nebes, i otpravilos' vojsko
v dorogu.
CHernye vsadniki - tuchi, chrevatye gromom, - i pestroj
pehoty
Dvinulis' tolpy - pri zvukah truby i fanfary, pod boj
barabannyj.

Topot i grohot, fanfary i truby kachnuli dvorcovye
steny.
Blednyj i zhalkij, Korol' vossedal v okruzhen'e ispugannyh
perov,
Serdce ne bilos', i krov' ne struilas', i t'ma opechatala
veki
CHernoj pechat'yu; predsmertnoj isparinoj telo i chleny
pokrylis';
Pery vokrug gromozdilis', kak mertvye gory, kak mertvye
chashchi,
Ili kak mertvye reki. Tritony, i zhaby, i zmei vozilis'
Vozle derzhavnyh kolen i skvoz' pal'cy derzhavnoj nogi
podpolzali,
Blizhe k derzhavnoj gadyuke, zabravshejsya v mantiyu,
daby ottuda
S kamennym vzorom shipet', potryasaya francuzskie chashchi;
nastalo
Vseotvoren'e Vsemirnogo Dna i vosstan'e arhangelov spyashchih;
Vstal ispolinskij mertvec i razdul nado vsemi ih blednoe
plamya.

ZHar ego szheg steny Luvra, rastayala mertvaya krov',
zastruilas'.
V gneve ochnulsya Korol' i dremotnye pery, uzrev zapusten'e:
Luvr bez edinoj dushi, i Parizh bez soldat i v glubokom
molchan'e,
Ibo shum s vojskom propal, i Senat v tishine dozhidalsya
rassveta.

Perevod V. L. Toporova

AMERICA

A PROPHECY

PRELUDIUM

The shadowy Daughter of Urthona stood before red Ore,
When fourteen suns had faintly journey'd o'er his dark abode:
His food she brought in iron baskets, his drink in cups of iron.
Crown'd with a helmet and dark hair the nameless Female stood;
A quiver with its burning stores, a bow like that of night,
When pestilence is shot from heaven-no other arms she need!
Invulnerable tho' naked, save where clouds roll round her loins
Their awful folds in the dark air: silent she stood as night;
For never from her iron tongue could voice or sound arise,
But dumb till that dread day when Ore ussay'd his fierce embrace.

'Dark Virgin,' said the hairy Youth, 'Thy father stern, abhorr'd,
Rivets my tenfold chains, while still on high my spirit soars;
Sometimes an eagle screaming in the sky, sometimes a lion
Stalking upon the mountains, and sometimes a whale, I lash
The raging fathomless abyss; anon a serpent folding
Around the pillars of Urthona, and round thy dark limbs
On the Canadian wilds I fold; feeble my spirit folds;
For chain'd beneath I rend these caverns: when thou bringest food
I howl my joy, and my red eyes seek to behold thy face -
In vain! these clouds roll to and fro, and hide thee from my sight.

Silent as despairing love, and strong as jealousy,
The hairy shoulders rend the links; free are the wrists of fire;
Round the terrific loins he seiz'd the panting, struggling womb;
It joy'd: she put aside her clouds and smiled her first-born smile,
As when a black cloud shows its lightnings to the silent deep.
Soon as she saw the Terrible Boy, then burst the virgin cry:-

'I know thee, I have found thee, and I will not let thee go:
Thou art the image of God who dwells in darkness of Africa,
And thou art fall'n to give me life in regions of dark death.
On my American plains I feel the struggling afflictions
Endur'd by roots that writhe their arms into the nether deep.
I see a Serpent in Canada who courts me to his love,
In Mexico an Eagle, and a Lion in Peru;
I see a Whale in the South Sea, drinking my soul away.
O what limb-rending pains I feel! thy fire and my frost
Mingle in howling pains, in furrows by thy lightnings rent.
This is Eternal Death, and this the torment long foretold!'

The stern Bard ceas'd, asham'd of his own song; enrag'd he swung
His harp aloft sounding, then dash'd its shining frame against
A ruin'd pillar in glittering fragments; silent he turn'd away,
And wander'd down the vales of Kent in sick & dream lamentings.

AMERIKA

PROROCHESTVO

PRELYUDIYA

Vidit Urtony dshcher' tenistaya Orka v krovi.
Nosit emu edu chetyrnadcat' plamennyh solnc.
Kormit ona ego: v zheleznom kuvshine pit'e,
V chashe zheleznoj yastva; kosy carevny temny;
Plamenem poln kolchan - v ruke u nee, pod rukoj -
Luk okayannoj nochi, strely smertel'ny - i vse!
Bol'shego ej ne nado! Neuyazvima ona,
Hot' i nagaya, - tuchi lastyatsya k chreslam eya;
T'moyu stoit bezmolvnoj, zvuka ne vedal yazyk;
Probil postydnyj chas - zhazhdet ob®yatiya Ork!

"Temnaya Deva, - rek vlasatyj, - otec tvoj skoval
Cepi velikie telu - no duh moj parit
V nebe orlom svobodnym, ryskaet yarostnym l'vom
V gornyh ushchel'yah, mchitsya moshchnym kitom v glubinu.
Volnami vshlestnut, zmiem v'yus' ya k Urtone v chertog,
CHleny tvoi nagie laskoj derzayu obvit'
V myslyah! Kanadskih pustyn' plennik, ya sohnu, plenen,
Vlastny li cepi Duh moj strasti lishit'? CHut' pridesh',
ZHadno revu, krovavym vzorom tebya poznayu -
Tshchetno! Ty, v tuchah skryta, lozha bezhish' moego".

Molcha, kak strast' bezum'ya, grozno, kak revnost' mirov,
Dikie plechi cepi sbrosili - podlinna moshch'!
CHudnye chresla roznyal, k lonu, likuya, pripal -
Radostno lono, pyshet zharom, i tuchi ushli -
Ognennyj vzor ego prozheg ih molchashchuyu glub'.
Devstvennyj krik otvetil yarostnoj strasti samca:
"Znayu tebya, nashla tebya, nikogda ne ujdu!
Detishche bozh'e, zhilec Afriki vechno nochnoj,
Pal ty, daruya mne zhizn' v temnoj yudoli smertej!
YArost' ya chuyu, zlost', Ameriki shvatku i ston,
Gorest' kornej, scepivshih ruki v podzemnoj bor'be.
Vizhu ya Zmiya dnes', v Kanade on slyubit menya!
V Meksike shvatit Grif! I Lev pohotlivyj - v Peru!
Vizhu Kita u brega, dushu mne vyp'et do dna!
O, chto za bol'! Moj moroz v plameni stayal tvoem!
Bol' i pozor naveki - v borozdah molnij tvoih!
Vot ona, Smert', nastala! Vot on, predskazannyj gnev!"

Strogij Pevec umolknul, pesni svoej ustydyas',
v beshenstve brosil on
Arfu svoyu navstrechu zvukam ee - k vershinam,
a zatem prelomil
Plamennyj ostov ee o ruiny kolonny i, molcha nasupyas',
Proch' zashagal v bol'nyh i strashnyh svoih pechalyah
po Kentskomu dolu.

A PROPHECY

The Guardian Prince of Albion burns in his nightly tent:
Sullen fires across the Atlantic glow to America's shore,
Piercing the souls of warlike men who rise in silent night.
Washington, Franklin, Paine, and Warren, Gates, Hancock, and Green
Meet on the coast glowing with blood from Albion's fiery Prince.

Washington spoke: 'Friends of America! look over the Atlantic sea;
A bended bow is lifted in Heaven, and a heavy iron chain
Descends, link by link, from Albion's cliffs across the sea, to bind
Brothers and sons of America; till our faces pale and yellow,
Heads depress'd, voices weak, eyes downcast, hands work-bruis'd,
Feet bleeding on the sultry sands, and the furrows of the whip
Descend to generations, that in future times forget.'

The strong voice ceas'd; for a terrible blast swept over
the heaving sea:
The eastern cloud rent: on his cliffs stood Albion's wrathful Prince,
A dragon form, clashing his scales: at midnight he arose,
And flam'd red meteors round the land of Albion beneath;
His voice, his locks, his awful shoulders, and his glowing eyes
Appear to the Americans upon the cloudy night.

Solemn heave the Atlantic waves between the gloomy nations,
Swelling, belching from its deeps red clouds and raging fires.
Albion is sick! America faints! Enrag'd the Zenith grew.
As human blood shooting its veins all round the orbed heaven,
Red rose the clouds from the Atlantic in vast wheels of blood,
And in the red clouds rose a Wonder o'er the Atlantic sea-
Intense! naked! a Human fire, fierce glowing, as the wedge
Of iron heated in the furnace; his terrible limbs were fire,
With myriads of cloudy terrors, banners dark, and towers
Surrounded: heat but not light went thro' the murky atmosphere.

The King of England looking westward trembles at the vision.

Albion's Angel stood beside the Stone of Night, and saw
The Terror like a comet, or more like the planet red,
That once enclos'd the terrible wandering comets in its sphere.
Then, Mars, thou wast our centre, and the planets three flew round
Thy crimson disk; so, ere the Sun was rent from thy red sphere,
The Spectre glow'd, his horrid length staining the temple long
With beams of blood; and thus a voice came forth, and shook the temple: -
'The morning comes, the night decays, the watchmen leave their
stations;
The grave is burst, the spices shed, the linen wrapped up;
The bones of death, the cov'ring clay, the sinews shrunk and dry'd
Reviving shake, inspiring move, breathing, awakening,
Spring like redeemed captives, when their bonds and bars are burst.
Let the slave grinding at the mill run out into the field,
Let him look up into the heavens and laugh in the bright air;
Let the enchained soul, shut up in darkness and in sighing,
Whose face has never seen a smile in thirty weary years,
Rise and look out; his chains are loose, his dungeon doors are open;
And let his wife and children return from the oppressor's scourge.
They look behind at every step, and believe it is a dream,
Singing: "The Sun has left his blackness, and has found a fresher
morning,
And the fair Moon rejoices in the clear and cloudless night;
For Empire is no more, and now the Lion and Wolf shall cease."'

In thunders ends the voice. Then Albion's Angel wrathful burnt
Beside the Stone of Night; and, like the Eternal Lion's howl
In famine and war, reply'd: 'Art thou not Ore,
who serpent-form'd
Stands at the gate of Enitharmon to devour her children?
Blasphemous Demon, Antichrist, hater of Dignities,
Lover of wild rebellion, and transgressor of God's Law,
Why dost thou come to Angel's eyes in this terrific form?'

The Terror answer'd: T am Ore, wreath'd round the accursed tree:
The times are ended; shadows pass, the morning 'gins to break;
The fiery joy, that Urizen perverted to ten commands,
What night he led the starry hosts thro' the wide wilderness,
That stony Law I stamp to dust; and scatter Religion abroad
To the four winds as a torn book, and none shall gather
the leaves;
But they shall rot on desert sands, and consume in bottomless
deeps,
To make the deserts blossom, and the deeps shrink to their
fountains,
And to renew the fiery joy, and burst the stony roof;
That pale religious lechery, seeking Virginity,
May find it in a harlot, and in coarse-clad honesty
The underfil'd, tho' ravish'd in her cradle night and morn;
For everything that lives is holy, life delights in life;
Because the soul of sweet delight can never be defil'd.
Fires enwrap the earthly globe, yet Man is not consum'd;
Amidst the lustful fires he walks; his feet become like brass,
His knees and things like silver, and his breast and head like gold.

'Sound! sound! my loud war-trumpets, and alarm my Thirteen
Angels!
Loud howls the Eternal Wolf! the Eternal Lion lashes his tail!
America is dark'ned; and my punishing Demons, terrified,
Crouch howling before their caverns deep, like skins dry'd
in the wind.
They cannot smite the wheat, nor quench the fatness of the earth;
They cannot smite with sorrows, nor subdue the plough and spade;
They cannot wall the city, nor moat round the castle of princes;
They cannot bring the stubbed oak to overgrow the hills;
For terrible men stand on the shores, and in their robes I see
Children take shelter from the lightnings: there stands
Washington,
And Paine, and Warren, with their foreheads rear'd toward
the East -
But clouds obscure my aged sight. A vision from afar!
Sound! sound! my loud war-trumpets, and alarm my Thirteen Angels!
Ah, vision from afar! Ah, rebel form that rent the ancient
Heavens! Eternal Viper self-renew'd, rolling in clouds,
I see thee in thick clouds and darkness on America's shore,
Writhing in pangs of abhorred birth; red flames the crest
rebellious
And eyes of death; the harlot womb, oft opened in vain,
Heaves in enormous circles: now the times are return'd upon thee,
Devourer of thy parent, now thy unutterable torment renews.
Sound! sound! my loud war-trumpets, and alarm my Thirteen Angels!
Ah, terrible birth! a young one bursting! Where is the weeping
mouth,
And where the mother's milk? Instead, those ever-hissing jaws
And parched lips drop with fresh gore: now roll thou in the
clouds;
Thy mother lays her length outstretch'd upon the shore beneath.
Sound! sound! my loud war-trumpets, and alarm my Thirteen
Angels!
Loud howls the Eternal Wolf! the Eternal Lion lashes his tail!'

Thus wept the Angel voice, and as he wept the terrible blasts
Of trumpets blew a loud alarm across the Atlantic deep.
No trumpets answer; no reply of clarions or of fifes:
Silent the Colonies remain and refuse the loud alarm.
On those vast shady hills between America and Albion's shore,
Now barr'd out by the Atlantic sea, call'd Atlantean hills,
Because from their bright summits you may pass to the Golden
World,
An ancient palace, archetype of mighty Emperies,
Rears its immortal pinnacles, built in the forest of God
By Ariston, the King of Beauty, for his stolen bride.

Here on their magic seats the Thirteen Angels sat perturb'd,
For clouds from the Atlantic hover o'er the solemn roof.

Fiery the Angels rose, and as they rose deep thunder roll'd
Around their shores, indignant burning with the fires of Ore;
And Boston's Angel cried aloud as they flew thro' the dark
night.

He cried: 'Why trembles honesty; and, like a murderer,
Why seeks he refuge from the frowns of his immortal station?
Must the generous tremble, and leave his joy to the idle,
to the pestilence
That mock him? Who commanded this? What God? What Angel?
To keep the gen'rous from experience till the ungenerous
Are unrestrain'd performers of the energies of nature;
Till pity is become a trade, and generosity a science
That men get rich by; and the sandy desert is giv'n
to the strong?
What God is he writes laws of peace, and clothes him in a tempest?
What pitying Angel lusts for tears, and fans himself with sighs?
What crawling villain preaches abstinence and wraps himself
In fat of lambs? No more I follow, no more obedience pay!'

So cried he, rending off his robe and throwing down
his sceptre
In sight of Albion's Guardian; and all the Thirteen Angels
Rent off their robes to the hungry wind, and threw their golden
sceptres
Down on the land of America; indignant they descended
Headlong from out their heav'nly heights, descending swift
as fires
Over the land; naked and flaming are their lineaments seen
In the deep gloom; by Washington and Paine and Warren they
stood;
And the flame folded, roaring fierce within the pitchy night,
Before the Demon red, who burnt towards America,
In black smoke, thunders, and loud winds, rejoicing in its terror,
Breaking in smoky wreaths from the wild deep, and gath'ring thick
In flames as of a furnace on the land from North to South,
What time the Thirteen Governors, that England sent, convene
In Bernard's house. The flames cover'd the land; they rouse;
they cry;
Shaking their mental chains, they rush in fury to the sea
To quench their anguish; at the feet of Washington down fall'n
They grovel on the sand and writhing lie, while all
The British soldiers thro' the Thirteen States sent up a howl
Of anguish, threw their swords and muskets to the earth, and run
From their encampments and dark castles, seeking where to hide
From the grim flames, and from the visions of Ore, in sight
Of Albion's Angel; who, enrag'd, his secret clouds open'd
From North to South, and burnt outstretch'd on wings of wrath,
cov'ring
The eastern sky, spreading his awful wings across the heavens.
Beneath him roll'd his num'rous hosts, all Albion's Angels camp'd
Darken'd the Atlantic mountains; and their trumpets shook
the valleys,
Arm'd with diseases of the earth to cast upon the Abyss-
Their numbers forty millions, must'ring in the eastern sky.

In the flames stood and view'd the armies drawn out in the sky,
Washington, Franklin, Paine, and Warren, Allen, Gates, and Lee,
And heard the voice of Albion's Angel give the thunderous
command;
His plagues, obedient to his voice, flew forth out of their
clouds,

Falling upon America, as a storm to cut them off,
As a blight cuts the tender corn when it begins to appear.
Dark is the heaven above, and cold and hard the earth beneath:
And, as a plague-wind, fill'd with insects, cuts off man
and beast,
And, as a sea o'erwhelms a land in the day of an earthquake,
Fury, rage, madness, in a wind swept through America;
And the red flames of Ore, that folded roaring, fierce, around
The angry shores; and the fierce rushing of th' inhabitants
together!
The citizens of New York close their books and lock their chests;
The mariners of Boston drop their anchors and unlade;
The scribe of Pennsylvania casts his pen upon the earth;
The builder of Virginia throws his hammer down in fear.

Then had America been lost, o'erwhelm'd by the Atlantic,
And Earth had lost another portion of the Infinite;
But all rush together in the night in wrath and raging fire.
The red fires rag'd! The plagues recoil'd! Then roll'd they
back with fury
On Albion's Angels: then the Pestilence began in streaks of red
Across the limbs of Albion's Guardian; the spotted plague smote
Bristol's,
And the Leprosy London's Spirit, sickening all their bands:
The millions sent up a howl of anguish and threw off their
hammer'd mail,
And cast their swords and spears to earth, and stood, a naked
multitude:
Albion's Guardian writhed in torment on the eastern sky,
Pale, quiv'ring toward the brain his glimmering eyes, teeth
chattering,
Howling and shuddering, his legs quivering, convuls'd each muscle
and sinew:
Sick'ning lay London's Guardian, and the ancient mitred York,
Their heads on snowy hills, their ensigns sick'ning in the sky.
The plagues creep on the burning winds, driven by flames of Ore,
And by the fierce Americans rushing together in the night,
Driven o'er the Guardians of Ireland, and Scotland and Wales.
They, spotted with plagues, forsook the frontiers; and their
banners, sear'd
With fires of hell, deform their ancient Heavens with shame
and woe.
Hid in his caves the Bard of Albion felt the enormous plagues,
And a cowl of flesh grew o'er his head, and scales on his back
and ribs;
And, rough with black scales, all his Angels fright their ancient
heavens.
The doors of marriage are open, and the Priests, in rustling
scales,
Rush into reptile coverts, hiding from the fires of Ore,
That play around the golden roofs in wreaths of fierce desire,
Leaving the Females naked and glowing with the lusts of youth.

For the Female Spirits of the dead, pining in bonds of religion,
Run from their fetters; reddening, and in long-drawn arches
sitting,
They feel the nerves of youth renew, and desires of ancient
times
Over their pale limbs, as a vine when the tender grape appears.
Over the hills, the vales, the cities rage the red flames
fierce:
The Heavens melted from North to South; and Urizen, who sat
Above all heavens, in thunders wrapp'd, emerg'd his leprous head
From out his holy shrine, his tears in deluge piteous
Falling into the deep sublime; flagg'd with grey-brow'd snows
And thunderous visages, his jealous wings wav'd over the deep;
Weeping in dismal howling woe, he dark descended, howling
Around the smitten bands, clothed in tears and trembling,
shudd'ring, cold.
His stored snows he poured forth, and his icy magazines
He open'd on the deep, and on the Atlantic sea, white,
shiv'ring;
Leprous his limbs, all over white, and hoary was his visage;
Weeping in dismal howlings before the stern Americans,
Hiding the Demon red with clouds and cold mists from the earth;
Till Angels and weak men twelve years should govern o'er the
strong;
And then their end should come, when France receiv'd the Demon's
light.
Stiff shudderings shook the heav'nly thrones! France, Spain,
and Italy
In terror view'd the bands of Albion, and the ancient Guardians,
Fainting upon the elements, smitten with their own plagues!
They slow advance to shut the five gates of their law-built
Heaven,
Filled with blasting fancies and with mildews of despair,
With fierce disease and lust, unable to stem the fires of Ore.
But the five gates were consum'd, and their bolts and hinges
melted;
And the fierce flames burnt round the heavens, and round
the abodes of men.

PROROCHESTVO

Knyaz' plameneet, Strazh, u vrat Al'biona v shatre;
Plamya pylaet; groz v Amerike grom zagremel,
Dushi vzryvaya bdyashchih bitvy muzhej, a ne spyat
Vashington, Franklin, Pejn, Uorren, Gejts, Henkok i Grin;
Bregi krovavy Knyaz' s vysot Al'biona slepit.

Vashington molvil, hmur: "Otechestvo, vzor za morya
Kin': v nebe luk natyanut i visnet tyazhkaya cep';
Zven'ev i zven'ev rzhav' so skal Al'biona syuda
V'etsya: vyazat' narod Ameriki, dushi sushit',
Nurit' glavy, nemotu nest', obezdolivat' duh,
Ochi i nogi zhech', remni syromyatny rukam,
Rabstvo - synam i vnukam, rabstva i pravnukam gnet!"

Molvil moguchij, smolk, i vetr zavihrennyj vzvilsya,
Tucha Vostoka vkloch', sam Knyaz' Al'biona, so skal,
Gneven, glyadit drakonom, zhdet, probudivshis' vo t'me,
Kamnem vedet nebesnym vlasti pylayushchij krug;
Vzor ego, kosmy, plech bugry, ustrashayushchij glas
V uzhas povergnut' chayut Novogo Sveta zhil'cov.

Tyazhkie dybit volny more mezh nacij vojny,
Krasnye tuchi, smerchi plameni mechet ono.
Nedug postig Al'bion. Obmorok - Novyj Svet! Ogn'
Pyshet v Zenite Neba! Krov' iz arterij Sud'by.
Krovi kolesa - tuchi - katyatsya chrez okean,
V tuchah krovavyh CHudo yavleno gordoe dnes':
YArostno! golo! Ogn', pobedno zazhzhennyj lyud'mi!
ZHarkij brusok zheleza - v kuzne rozhden CHelovek.
Gnev - ego chleny, strah - dyhan'e, nevolya - kupel',
Mozhet on szhech' dotla - ne nesushchij sveta Ogon'!

Mrachen Korol' Anglijskij, Zapad pugaet ego.

Anglii Angel, v Nishe Nochi tayashchijsya, zrit:
Uzhas kometoj vys' ob®yal, razrastayas', - vernej,
Krasnoj planetoj, popavshej pod zhernova komet.
Mars, ty byl centr sistemy, v plennicy ty zaluchil
Tri planety, pokuda Solnce ne otorvalos'
Ot tvoej krasnoj moshchi, Spektra ognya, - i togda
V krasnyh luchah zaalel Hram i zagrohotal Glas:
"Utro voshodit, noch' uhodit, i Strazhi begut,
Tresnuli groby, ladan vysoh i savan istlel.
Golye kosti, prah, ponikshij, kazalos', navek,
Vspryali, prosnuvshis', - ZHizn' dyhan'em
opyat' v nih voshla,
Sbrosiv pobedno cepi, uzy i yadra tyur'my.
Fabrik raby, speshite - volya i pole vas zhdut!
Nebo ocham otkrojte - vozduh, i smeh, i prostor!
Serdcu velite (vzdohi vedomy Gorya emu,
Za tridcat' let ni razu ne ulybnulis' usta)
Vskryt'sya navstrechu zhizni, gde net ni Vrat, ni Cepej,
Detyam i zhenam chtob nadsmotrshchika bich ne grozil.
Pust' ih ne veryat. Vera pozzhe pridet: ne vo sne
Vse eto. Pesn' vostorga gryanet: "Ishodom iz t'my
Solnce vzoshlo, luna siyaet v blazhennoj nochi,
Vlast' izoshla - teper' ne budet ni Volka, ni L'va!"
V groma raskatah smolk. No Anglii Angel, vzbeshen,
V Nishe Nochnoj gorit, rycha izgladavshimsya l'vom;
Vechnyj voitel' klichet Zmiya: "CHudovishchnyj Ork!
Ty li razdor poseyal, chaya mladencev pozhrat'
Materi |nitarmon? Bes, Antihrist, Buntar',
Smuty Samec, Rastlitel', Skot, Bogomerzkaya Tvar'.
Angelu smeesh', Ork, v oblich'e uzhasnom predstat'?"

Uzhas ZHivoj v otvet: "YA zmij, cep'yu skovannyj Ork,
S drevom obvenchan. Vek tot konchilsya, etot - bud' moj!
Ognennyj smeh Urizen v zapovedi prevratil -
V desyat' svoih zavetov, - zvezdy v pustynyu vpustiv.
Nyne skrizhal' sotru, religiyu broshu vetram
Knizhicej dranoj! Ha! nikto ne podymet listov:
Skroshatsya te v peske, bessledno potonut v moryah,
Cvetom pojdut pustyni, morya omeleyut v ruch'i,
Radost' v ogne roditsya, krysha mirov zatreshchit;
Budet svyatosham tyazhko, Devstvennost' vzdumaj iskat',
Krome kak v shlyuhe, - sram devichij utratit' speshit
Doch' v kolybeli, - noch'yu temnoj, bezoblachnym dnem.
Ibo ZHivoe svyato, i zhizni zhelaet ZHizn',
Skverny v Vesel'e netu, v Schast'e sama CHistota:
Plamya planetu zhret, no smertnyj - i tut nevredim,
Plamya emu poteha, bronzovoj stala pyata,
Bedra - iz serebra, glava zolotoyu i grud'!"

"Gryan'te, fanfary! v boj, trinadcati angelov sonm!
Vechnyj Volchishche vzvyl! Vz®yarivshijsya Lev vozrevel!
Demony derzki, chuya novyj Ameriki chin,
Voyut iz bezdn, trepeshchut - kozha v dubil'ne vetrov.
Niv ne pozhech' im, zlaki tuchnye ne zasushit',
Plug i motygu v porch' volshboj ne vvesti im i v rzhav'.
Grad ne postroit' im, ne vyryt' pod mirom rva,
Sornym pobegom hmelya pole ne opustoshit'.
Ibo stoyat na brege strashnye troe - ya zryu -
Vashington, Pejn, Uorren - v dlinnyh odezhdah svoih
CHada ot molnij pryacha, - gnevno pytayut Vostok.
Tuchi moj vzor zatmili. Gore mne! - starcheskij vzor!
Gryan'te, fanfary! v boj, trinadcati angelov sonm!
Tuchi moj vzor zatmili! Smut Predvoditel' sozhret
Nebo Vostoka! D'yavol! Novorozhdennyj! I On,
V tuchah i v tuchah, breg Ameriki sglozhet ognem,
Korchas' v muchen'yah. O, ublyudok krovavyj, ne zrya
Smerti ochami zrish': Bludnicyno lono opyat'
Krugom poshlo - teper' ne popustu - vspyat' vremena!
ZHresh' ty Otca, no zdes' k tebe podbiraetsya bol'.
Gryan'te, fanfary! v boj, trinadcati angelov sonm!
Merzostnyj! Gryaz' rozhdena! Greh!
Gde sleza hot' odna?
Mleko grudnoe gde? Lish' past', da kamen'ya zubej,
Guby v krovi; nebesna noch' - kolybel' Satany;
V tuchah ty vysish'sya, mat' - prosterta na beregu.
Gryan'te, fanfary! v boj, trinadcati angelov sonm!
Vechnyj Volchishche vzvyl! Vz®yarivshijsya Lev vozrevel!"

Plakal tak Angel. Grom fanfar byl otvetom emu,
Golos trevogi ros, Atlantiki tyazhkaya glub'
Zakolyhalas'. Molcha vnemlet Amerika, spit,
Uhu kolonij gluho ehom volnen'ya zvucha.
Angliyu s Novym Svetom svyazala gryada holmov;
Nyne nad neyu - More, tol'ko vershiny vidny.
S etih vershin vzojdesh' v Atlantov Zlatuyu Stranu,
V drevnij dvorec - proobraz moguchih zemnyh derzhav.
Bashni bessmertny vvys' vozneslis' (takovy Ariston,
Car' Krasoty, pohishchennoj deve v pamyat' vozvel).

Zdes', v volshebnom dvorce, - trinadcati angelov sonm.
Mrachno sidyat - pod svody tuchi vpolzayut, cherny.

Gnevno vosstali vse, i grom zagremel tyazhelo
Nad beregami, plamya Orka kotorye zhret;
Bostona Angel rek v polete nad mirom nochnym:

"CHestnost' otvergnut', - vskrichal, - chtoby
ubijce pol'stit'?
CHtoby ubijca bezhal ot pokayan'ya syuda?
Blago zabyt' li? Otdat' radost' razbojnoj chume,
CHtob ne draznit' ee? Kto - Bog, povelevshij sie?
Blago skryt' ot poznan'ya, chtob vremya dat' neblagim
Sily prirodnyh energij pakostno izvratit'?
CHtob kuplej-prodazhej lyubov' stala,
i Blago - zlom?
CHtob chelovek bogatel, nad sovestiyu glumyas'?
Kto zhe tot Bog, o mire tverdyashch i nesushch grozu?
Kto zhe tot Angel, slez alchushch i vzdohov zemnyh?
Kto vozderzhan'e smeet slavit', blazhenstvuya sam
V masle, v zhiru? Dovol'no! Bol'she ya vam ne sluga!"

Tak on vskrichal, razdrav odezhdy i skipetr uroniv.
Strah Al'bion ob®yal - trinadcati angelov sonm
Skinul, razdrav, odezhdy, skiptry svoi pobrosal.
Nazem' upalo plamya. Angely pali na breg,
Strashnye, strashnoj klyatvoj nyne ob®edineny.
Goloe plamya - tak ih liki goreli vo t'me.
Vashington, Pejn, Uorren gotovy vstretit' gostej.
Vskinulos' plamya noch'yu, rykaya krov'yu chumy,
Demon gorel vdali, Ameriku strahom strashchal;
Plamya na plamya, dym na dym, gromyhan'e na grom
V shvatke soshlis': zadymlen breg s Okeana, s Zemli,
Kuznej strana pylaet - Sever, i YUg, i Vostok.
V Bernarda dom mezh tem trinadcat' Gubernskih Vladyk
Anglii vhodyat, bdyat, boyatsya i derzhat sovet.
V strahe velikom - ogn' povsyudu - oni ne vol'ny,
Vashington, past' k nogam tvoim i poshchady prosit'.
Stelyutsya, plachut, lezha polzayut, vojsko zhe ih
Gromche gromov revet - trinadcati shtatam na smeh, -
Nazem' mechi i mushkety v strahe brosiv svoi,
Zaperlis' v krepost', tshchas' spasenie tam obresti;
YArost' i Prizrak Orka gonyat nazad, a vpered -
Anglii Angel, shlyushchij tajnye tuchi bedy
S YUga na Sever, zhgushchij, gneva prostershi kryla,
Nebo Vostoka, spryatav Solnce v ih chernoj teni.
Vojsko vstaet polzkom - Atlantiki gory i breg,
Angely, lyudi - vse, kogo Al'bion snaryadil.
Truby, fanfary - v boj! Ameriku - v bezdnu, na dno!
Sorok mil'onov bylo Zapada vojsko - narod.

Ognennym okom vidyat vojsko nebesno v ogne
Vashington, Franklin, Pejn, Uorren, Gejts,
Allen i Li.
Anglii Angel kinul polchishcham klich boevoj;
Vernye vihri vspryali, tuchi bedy polilis'
Novym potopom - smyat' Ameriku v more, sgubit', -
Tak vot zerno voskovo slizhet pozhar i pozhret.
T'ma v nebesah, vnizu - Zemlya holodna i tverda;
Vihrem chumnym smetaet lyudej i zverej s zemli,
Zemletryasen'ya smerchi za den' nad mirom proshlis'.
Zloba! vrazhda! bezum'e! vgryzlis' Amerike v krov'.
Orka pylalo plamya! plamya revelo! rvalos'!
Bregi ob®yav ubijstvom, rozn'yu, razdorom, reznej!
ZHitel' N'yu-Jorka zaper shkaf i Pisan'e na klyuch,
Bostonskij kormchij gruza na bort barkasa ne bral,
Stryapchij iz Del'fi vylil sklyanku kontorskih chernil,
Brosil virginskij plotnik poludostroennyj dom.

Tak by i sginut' ej, Amerike, v lyutom ogne,
I beskonechnost' Zemli stala b chut' men'she togda, -
Derzkoj ne bud' otvagi! YArosti gnevnoj ne bud'!
Plameni molnij! Sily! - sily otvadit' chumu,
Povorotit' iz Anglii gost'yu v Angliyu vspyat':
Strazham - bubony! yazvy - Anglii detishcham! hvor' -
Jorku, Bristolyu! lepru - Londonu! morok - vojskam!
Vzvyli mil'ony, laty sbrosili, rzhav' ih razdrav,
Sabli i kop'ya proch'; predstali nagoyu tolpoj.
Strazh Al'biona, skryuchas', skorchas', kricha i rycha,
Sil'nym stenaya stonom, v krov' skrezheshcha chelyust'mi,
Drozh'yu drozha, sucha nogami, zadavlennyj, zrit:
Hvori London krutyat i drevnij episkopskij Jork -
Glavy gniyut v predgor'yah, telo v doline gniet, -
Gnevom i gnevom veet Ork i pozharom na nih;
Armii grozny Noch' Ameriki szhala v kulak -
Skottov krushit' i rushit', saksov, irlandcev, Uel's.
Te, neschastlivcy, s fronta - zhalok razdrannyj - begut;
Znamya poniklo, glozhet Ad loskuty na vetru;
Vechnyj peshchernik, gordyj Bard Al'biona, poznav
Uzhas, obros kulyami sala, hvostom, cheshuej;
Vse v cheshue predstali angely, Zvezd Sramota,
Braka vrata razverzlis', Pastyr' poros cheshuej,
Szhavshis' reptiliej zhalkoj, lish' by Orka ne zret', -
Plamenem plyashet tot, pylayushchej pohot'yu zhzhet -
ZHeny nagie rdeyut, kinuty navznich' skottom.
Ibo bessmertny Duhi-Devy, religii Ad
Nyne pokinuv i uzy sbrosiv, alym cvetut,
Polnyat pobedoj pohot' yunosti, zhazhdu vekov,
Blednye nogi stali penny, kak chashi vina.

Grady, i vesi, holmy, doly i dali - v ogne,
Plavitsya nebo, kaplet plamenem, plavitsya sam
Vechnyj Urizen, plachet, pryachet prokazu v dymu,
Krikom krichit, potopom plachet, pechalitsya: Mir
CHut' shevelitsya - snegom, prizrakom Zla, zameten;
Grom oglushitel'nyj gryanul, krikov revnivyh ditya.
ZHalko unizhen, vniz Urizen soshel, vopiya:
Vojsko razbito, slezy bleshchut, smyaten'e i hlad.
Sneg on sogreb, zheleznye vytryas, stenaya, groba
Nad Atlantidoj - bezdna mrachno glotala dary.
Bolen prokazoj, dryahl Urizen - zemlisto glyadit,
Diko revya, horonit demona bitvy vo sklep -
Amerikancy, strogi, smotryat vo sklep, k mertvecam.
Angel i Slabost' pravyat - Sila dvenadcat' let spit,
Slabost' svesti - vzojdet vo Francii Demon Ognya.
Trony nebes tryasutsya! Nemec, ispanec, francuz
Vidyat gibel' v muchen'yah moshchi anglijskoj byloj -
Prahom ona poshla, chumoj umerla iznutri.
Proch' pospeshili vse - spasti Nebesa, zaperet'
Hram pyativratnyj, Veru, grezy durnye prognat',
Rzhu otchayan'ya smyt'... No s Orkom ne sladyat oni,
Vrat ne uberegut - ved' v ogne rasteksya zasov.
Dikoe plamya Nebo, Zemlyu i Dushu pozhret.

Perevod V. L. Toporova

EUROPE

A PROPHECY

'Five windows light the cavern'd Man: thro' one he breathes the air;
Thro' one hears music of the spheres; thro' one the Eternal Vine
Flourishes, that he may receive the grapes; thro' one can look
And see small portions of the Eternal World that ever groweth;
Thro' one himself pass out what time he please, but he will not;
For stolen joys are sweet, and bread eaten in secret pleasant.'

So sang a Fairy, mocking, as he sat on a streak'd tulip,
Thinking none saw him: when he ceas'd I started from the trees,
And caught him in my hat, as boys knock down a butterfly.
'How know you this,' said I, 'small Sir? where did you learn
this song?'
Seeing himself in my possession, thus he answer'd me:
'My Master, I am yours! command me, for I must obey.'

'Then tell me, what is the Material World, and is it dead?'
He, laughing, answer'd: 'I will write a book on leaves
of flowers,
If you will feed me on love-thoughts, and give me now
and then
A cup of sparkling poetic fancies; so, when I am tipsy,
I'll sing to you to this soft lute, and show you all alive
The World, when every particle of dust breathes forth its joy.'

I took him home in my warm bosom: as we went along
Wild flowers I gathered; and he show'd me each Eternal Flower:
He laugh'd aloud to see them whimper because they were
pluck'd.
They hover'd round me like a cloud of incense. When I came
Into my parlour and sat down, and took my pen to write,
My Fairy sat upon the table, and dictated EUROPE.

EVROPA

PROROCHESTVO

"Pyat' Okon u Dushi tvoej, v temnicu zatochennoj, -
Lietsya vozduh skvoz' odno, muzyka sfer - v drugoe,
A v tret'e - Vechnoe Vino techet blagoslovenno,
CHetvertoe - otkryto v mir, vechnorastushchij, vechnyj.
Est' pyatoe - daby dusha iz tela vyryvalas'
V lyubuyu poru: sladok hleb, vkushaemyj ukradkoj".

Takuyu pesnyu raspeval |l'f okolo tyul'pana
I dumal: netu nikogo poblizosti. Vnezapno
YA, vyskochiv iz-za derev, nakryl malyutku shlyapoj,
Kak babochku. "Otkuda znat' tebe, druzhok, ob etom?"
Moj plennik ponyal, chto emu ne izbezhat' nevoli.
"Moj gospodin, - on zapishchal, - ya ves' k tvoim uslugam".

"Togda skazhi mne, chto est' Mir Materii - i mertv li?"
Smeyas', otvetil on: "Traktat, nachertannyj na list'yah,
YA napisat' gotov, kol' ty menya vskormish' lyubov'yu,
Da podnesesh' mne kubok-dva iskryashchihsya fantazij.
YA, zahmelev chutok, spoyu tebe o zhizni mira,
Gde radost' dyshit i zhivet v lyuboj pylinke praha".

Prigrel ego ya na grudi, a on mne po doroge
Na vse bessmertnye cvety ukazyval perstochkom.
On ob®yasnil mne trepet ih v tot mig, kak ih sryvayut.
Ih aromat menya ob®yal, bozhestvennyj, kak ladan.
Kogda vernulsya ya domoj i sel k stolu rabotat',
Moj |l'f, posmeivayas', mne prodiktoval "Evropu".

PRELUDIUM

The nameless Shadowy Female rose from out the breast of Ore,
Her snaky hair brandishing in the winds of Enitharmon;
And thus her voice arose: -

'O mother Enitharmon, wilt thou bring forth other sons,
To cause my name to vanish, that my place may not be found?
For I am faint with travel,
Like the dark cloud disburden'd in the day of dismal thunder.

'My roots are brandish'd in the heavens, my fruits in earth
beneath
Surge, foam, and labour into life, first born and first consum'd!
Consumed and consuming!
Then why shouldst thou, Accursed Mother, bring me into life?

'I wrap my turban of thick clouds around my lab'ring head,
And fold the sheety waters as a mantle round my limbs;
Yet the red sun and moon
And all the overflowing stars rain down prolific pains.

'Unwilling I look up to heaven, unwilling count the stars:
Sitting in fathomless abyss of my immortal shrine
I seize their burning power,
And bring forth howling terrors, all-devouring fiery kings,

'Devouring and devoured, roaming on dark and desolate mountains,
In forests of Eternal Death, shrieking in hollow trees.
Ah, mother Enitharmon!
Stamp not with solid form this vig'rous progeny of fires.

'I bring forth from my teeming bosom myriads of flames,
And thou dost stamp them with a signet; then they roam abroad,
And leave me void as death.
Ah! I am drown'd in shady woe and visionary joy.

'And who shall bind the Infinite with an eternal band
To compass it with swaddling bands? and who shall cherish it
With milk and honey?
I see it smile, and I roll inward, and my voice is past.'

She ceas'd, and roll'd her shady clouds
Into the secret place.

PRELYUDIYA

Tenistaya Dshcher' vosstala s Orkova lozha lyubvi.
Zmeepodobnye kosy veyut na lyutom vetru.
Golos ee zvuchit:

"Mater' |nitarmon! Kogo porodish' ty eshche,
CHtoby moe unizhen'e stalo by smerti pod stat'?
Hvatit mne etih muk!
Tuche obychnoj legko l', kogda zagremit adskij grom?

Korni moi na nebe, chahnut v pochve moi plody,
V zhizn' vpadaya, kak v more, chtob navek rastvorit'sya v nej.
Umeret' i ubit'!
Bud' zhe ty proklyata, Mat', za to, chto menya rodila!

Na golovu ya odela kromeshnoj tuchi tyurban,
YA chleny moi sokryla pod savanom chernyh vod,
No l'yut Solnce s Lunoj
Vechnyh muchenij liven' na slaboe telo moe.

Ponevole glyazhu ya v nebo, ponevole ya chtu
Zvezdy v moej nedole, v besprosvetnoj zhizni moej.
Vizhu: ih svet krovav.
Vizhu: oni chrevaty smert'yu, uzhasom i ognem.

YA vizhu: zhgut i goryat. Vizhu: zhgut i goryat vezde -
Na potaennyh vershinah i v chashchah posmertnyh dnej.
Mater' moya, zachem?
Zachem iz drozhashchih ognej tverdynyu zhizni kuesh'?

Iz grudi istorgayu svirepoe plamya tvoe.
Tshchetno! ego ty puskaesh' ischadiem yarosti v zhizn'.
Vot ya pusta, kak smert',
V prizrachnom gore i v prizrachnom schast'e pogrebena.

Kto zhe teper' smenit Vechnosti mokrye peleny?
Vechnye mokrye peleny? Kto nakormit ee
Mlekom i medom? Ah!
Vot ulybnulas', prosnulas', i k nej sejchas pobegu!"

Umolkla, tuchi za soboj
Vedya v bezvestnyj put'.

A PROPHECY

The deep of winter came,
What time the Secret Child
Descended through the orient gates of the Eternal day:
War ceas'd, and all the troops like shadows fled to their
abodes.

Then Enitharmon saw her sons and daughters rise around;
Like pearly clouds they meet together in the crystal
house;
And Los, possessor of-ihe Moon, joy'd in the peaceful night,
Thus speaking, while his num'rous sons shook their bright fiery
wings: -

'Again the night is come,
That strong Urthona takes his rest;
And Urizen, unloos'd from chains,

Glows like a meteor in the distant North.
Stretch forth your hands and strike the elemental
strings!
Awake the thunders of the deep!

'The shrill winds wake,
Till all the sons of Urizen look out and envy Los.
Seize all the spirits of life, and bind

Their warbling joys to our loud strings!
Bind all the nourishing sweets of earth
To give us bliss, that we may drink the sparkling wine
of Los!
And let us laugh at war,
Despising toil and care,
Because the days and nights of joy in lucky
hours renew.

'Arise, O Ore, from thy deep den!
First-born of Enitharmon, rise!
And we will crown thy head with garlands of the ruddy vine;
For now thou art bound,
And I may see thee in the hour of bliss, my eldest-born.'

The horrent Demon rose, surrounded with red stars of fire,
Whirling about in furious circles round the Immortal Fiend.

Then Enitharmon down descended into his red light,
And thus her voice rose to her children: the distant heavens
reply: -

'Now comes the night of Enitharmon's joy!
Who shall I call? Who shall I send,
That Woman, lovely Woman, may have dominion?
Arise, O Rintrah! thee I call, and Palamabron, thee!
Go! tell the Human race that Woman's love is Sin;
That an Eternal life awaits the worms of sixty winters,
In an allegorical abode, where existence hath never come.
Forbid all Joy; and, from her childhood, shall the little
Female
Spread nets in every secret path.

'My weary eyelids draw towards the evening; my bliss is yet
but new.

'Arise! O Rintrah, eldest-born, second to none but Ore!
O lion Rintrah, raise thy fury from thy forests black!
Bring Palamabron, horned priest, skipping upon
the mountains,
And silent Elynittria, the silver-bowed queen.
Rintrah, where hast thou hid thy bride?
Weeps she in desert shades?
Alas! my Rintrah, bring the lovely jealous
Ocalythron.

'Arise, my son! bring all thy brethren,
O thou King of Fire!
Prince of the Sun! I see thee with thy innumerable
race,
Thick as the summer stars;
But each, ramping, his golden mane shakes,
And thine eyes rejoice because of strength, O Rintrah, furious
King!'

Enitharmon slept
Eighteen hundred years. Man was a dream,
The night of Nature and their harps unstrung!
She slept in middle of her nightly song
Eighteen hundred years, a Female dream.

Shadows of men in fleeting bands upon the winds
Divide the heavens of Europe;
Till Albion's Angel, smitten with his own plagues, fled with
his bands.
The cloud bears hard on Albion's shore,
Fill'd with immortal Demons of futurity:
In council gather the smitten Angels of Albion;
The cloud bears hard upon the council-house,
down rushing
On the heads of Albion's Angels.

One hour they lay buried beneath the ruins of that hall;
But as the stars rise from the Salt Lake, they arise in pain,
In troubled mists, o'erclouded by the terrors of struggling
times.

In thoughts perturb'd they rose from the bright ruins, silent
following
The fiery King, who sought his ancient temple,
serpent-form'd,
That stretches out its shady length along
the Island white.
Round him roll'd his clouds of war; silent the Angel went
Along the infinite shores of Thames to golden
Verulam.
There stand the venerable porches, that high-towering
rear
Their oak-surrounded pillars, form'd of massy stones, uncut
With tool, stones precious!-such eternal in the heavens,
Of colours twelve (few known on earth) give light
in the opaque,
Plac'd in the order of the stars; when the five senses
whelm'd
In deluge o'er the earth-born man, then turn'd the fluxile
eyes
Into two stationary orbs, concentrating all things:
The ever-varying spiral ascents to the Heavens of Heavens
Were bended downward, and the nostrils' golden gates shut,
Turn'd outward, barr'd, and petrify'd against the Infinite.

Thought chang'd the Infinite to a Serpent, that which
pitieth
To a devouring flame; and Man fled from its face and hid
In forests of night; then all the eternal forests were divided
Into earths, rolling in circles of Space, that like an ocean
rush'd
And overwhelmed all except this finite wall of flesh.
Then was the Serpent temple form'd, image of Infinite, |
Shut up in finite revolutions, and Man became an Angel,
Heaven a mighty circle turning, God a tyrant crown'd.

Now arriv'd the ancient Guardian at the southern porch,
That planted thick with trees of blackest leaf,
and in a vale
Obscure enclos'd the Stone of Night; oblique it stood, o'erhung
With purple flowers and berries red, image
of that sweet South,
Once open to the heavens, and elevated on the human neck,
Now overgrown with hair, and cover'd with a stony roof.
Downward 'tis sunk beneath th' attractive North, that round
the feet,
A raging whirlpool, draws the dizzy enquirer to his grave.

Albion's Angel rose upon the Stone of Night.
He saw Urizen on the Atlantic;
And his brazen Book,
That Kings and Priests had copied on Earth,
Expanded from North to South.

And the clouds and fires pale roll'd round in the night
of Enitharmon,
Round Albion's cliffs and London's walls: still Enitharmon slept.
Rolling volumes of grey mist involve Churches,
Palaces, Towers;
For Urizen unclasp'd his Book, feeding his soul with pity.
The youth of England, hid in gloom, curse the pain'd heavens,
compell'd
Into the deadly night to see the form
of Albion's Angel.
Their parents brought them forth, and Aged Ignorance preaches*
canting,
On a vast rock, perceiv'd by those senses that are clos'd front
thought -------
Bleak, dark, abrupt it stands, and overshadows London city.
They saw his bony feet on the rock, the flesh consum'd
in flames;
They saw the Serpent temple lifted above, shadowing the Island
white;
They heard the voice of Albion's Angel, howling in flames of Ork,
Seeking the trump of the Last Doom.

Above the rest the howl was heard from Westminster, louder and
louder:
The Guardian of the secret codes forsook his ancient mansion,
Driven out by the flames of Ore; his furr'd robes
and false locks
Adhered and grew one with his flesh and nerves, and veins shot
thro' them.
With dismal torment sick, hanging upon the wind, he fled
Grovelling, along Great George Street, thro' the Park gate:
all the soldiers
Fled from his sight: he dragg'd his torments to the wilderness.

Thus was the howl thro' Europe!
For Ore rejoie'd to hear the howling shadows;
But Palamabron shot his lightnings, trenching down his
wide back;
And Rintrah hung with all his legions in the nether deep.

Enitharmon laugh'd in her sleep to see (O woman's triumph!)
Every house a den, every man bound: the shadows are fill'd
With spectres, and the windows wove over with curses of iron:
Over the doors 'Thou shalt not,' and over the chimneys 'Fear' is
written:
With bands of iron round their necks fasten'd into the walls
The citizens, in leaden gyves the inhabitants of suburbs
Walk heavy; soft and bent are the bones
of villagers.

Between the clouds of Urizen the flames of Ore roll heavy
Around the limbs of Albion's Guardian, his flesh consuming:
Howlings and hissings, shrieks and groans, and voices of despair
Arise around him in the cloudy heavens of Albion. Furious,
The red-limb'd Angel seiz'd in horror
and torment
The trump of the Last Doom; but he could not blow
the iron tube!
Thrice he assay'd presumptuous to awake
the dead to Judgement.
A mighty Spirit leap'd from the land of Albion,
Nam'd Newton: he seiz'd the trump, and blow'd the enormous
blast!
Yellow as leaves of autumn, the myriads
of Angelic hosts
Fell thro' the wintry skies, seeking their graves,
Rattling their hollow bones in howlings
and lamentation.

Then Enitharmon woke, nor knew that she had
slept;
And eighteen hundred years were fled
As if they had not been.
She call'd her sons and daughters
To the sports of night
Within her crystal house,
And thus her song proceeds: -

'Arise, Ethinthus! tho' the earth-worm call,
Let him call in vain,
Till the night of holy shadows
And human solitude is past!

'Ethinthus, Queen of Waters, how thou shinest
in the sky!
My daughter, how do I rejoice! for thy children flock
around,
Like the gay fishes on the wave, when the cold moon drink"
dew.
Ethinthus! thou art sweet as comforts to my
fainting soul,
For now thy waters warble round the feet of Enitharmon.

'Manatha-Varcyon! I behold thee flaming in my
halls.
Light of thy mother's soul! I see thy lovely eagles round;
Thy golden wings are my delight, and thy flames of soft
delusion.

'Where is my luring bird of Eden? Leutha,
silent love!
Leutha, the many-colour'd bow delights upon thy wings!
Soft soul of flowers, Leutha!

Sweet smiling Pestilence! I see thy blushing light;
Thy daughters, many changing,
Revolve like sweet perfumes ascending, O Leutha,
Silken Queen!

'Where is the youthful Antamon, Prince of the Pearly Dew?
O Antamon! why wilt thou leave thy mother Enitharmon?
Alone I see thee, crystal form,
Floating upon the bosom'd air,
With lineaments of gratified desire.
My Antamon! the seven churches of Leutha seek thy love.

'I hear the soft Oothoon in Enitharmon's tents;
Why wilt thou give up woman's secrecy,
my melancholy child?
Between two moments Bliss is ripe.
O Theotormon! robb'd of joy, I see thy salt
tears flow
Down the steps of my crystal house.

'Sotha and Thiralatha! secret dwellers of dreamful caves,
Arise and please the horrent Fiend with your
melodious songs;
Still all your thunders, golden-hoof d, and bind your horses
black.
Ore! smile upon my children,
Smile, son of my afflictions!
Arise, O Ore, and give our mountains joy
of thy red light!

She ceas'd; for all were forth at sport beneath the solemn moon
Waking the stars of Utizen with their immortal
songs;
That Nature felt thro' all her pores the enormous revelry,
Till Morning oped the eastern gate;
Then every one fled to his station, and Enitharmon wept.

But terrible Ore, when he beheld the morning
in the East,
Shot from the heights of Enitharmon,
And in the vineyards of red France appear'd the light
of his fury.

The Sun glow'd fiery red!
The furious Terrors flew around
On golden chariots, raging with red wheels,
dropping with blood!
The Lions lash their wrathful tails!
The Tigers couch upon the prey and suck the ruddy tide;
And Enitharmon groans and cries in anguish and dismay.

Then Los arose: his head he rear'd, in snaky
thunders clad;
And with a cry that shook all Nature
to the utmost pole,
Call'd all his sons to the strife of blood.

PROROCHESTVO

Vo glubine zimy
Tainstvennoe Ditya spustilos' na Zemlyu
Skvoz' Vostochnye vrata Vechnogo dnya.
Vojna konchilas', i soldaty, podobno nochnym tenyam, bezhali
v ukrytiya.

|nitarmon okinula vzorom svoih synovej s docheryami.
V dome hrustal'nom oni, kak zhemchuzhnye tuchi, soshlis'
dlya besedy.
Los, predvoditel' Luny, likovan'ya ne sderzhival mirnoyu
noch'yu,
Tak vozveshchaya synam, potryasavshim luchistymi kryl'yami yaro:

"Snova nastala noch'.
Bestrevozhno Urtona vkushaet otdyh;
Urizen zhe, osvobodivshis' ot put,
Pylaet na dal'nem Severe ognem.
Ruki prostrite i kosnites' svoimi perstami stihiej
ispolnennyh strun,
Gryan'te gromom glubin!

Rezkij vetr zasvistal.
Syny Urizena s zavist'yu vnemlyut Losu.
Pokorim Duhov ZHizni, zastavim ih
Otdat' potajnuyu neukrotimuyu radost' nashim plamennosushchim
strun_a_m!
Da prebudet vostorg
Vselennoj - veseliem nashim i chashej Losa,
Otnyne iskryashchejsya mirnym vinom,
Prezritel'nym smehom pomyanem vojnu,
Trud i trevogi, - ved' Radosti nochi i dni vozvernutsya
v svoj chas nepremenno.

Ork-peshchernik, vosstan'!
Prosnis', pervorozhdennyj syn |nitarmon!
My uvenchaem hmelem tvoyu glavu.
Hochu, moj pervenec, uvidet' tebya:
Hochu v chas blazhenstva uvidet' tebya, kak ty est',
moj zakovannyj v cepi gordec!"

YArostnyj demon vosstal v okruzhenii krasnyh sozvezdij ognya,
Mysl'yu i vzorom chertya vkrug Vraga Neizbyvnogo beshenyj krug.
|nitarmon opustilas' k nemu i stupila v krovavoe plamya.
K chadam svoim obratilas', i Nebom podhvacheny byli prizyvy:

"Noch' Svershen'ya prishla!
Kogo pozvat' mne, kogo, skazhite, poslat' mne,
Kak postupit', chtob ZHenshchine dali vlast'?
Rintra, moj syn, vosstan'! Vstan', Palamabron!
Ty li povedaesh' miru, chto netu dlya ZHenskoj lyubvi
drugogo slova, chem Greh?
I zhdet shest'desyat let
CHervya, chtob vospryanut' dlya Vechnoj ZHizni, telo?
I radost' zemnaya - zapretnoe Zlo?
I Deva roditsya zatem tol'ko, chtoby rasstavit' kapkany
na tropah blagih?

Veki ustalo smykayu, ne zhdu peremen, ne zhelayu takogo
blazhenstva.

Rintra, pervenec, vstan'!
Starshe tebya lish' Ork. L'vom vozrevi iz chashchi,
Palamabrona-zhreca s soboj voz'mi
I |linitriyu - s lukom serebryanym molchalivuyu korolevu-
sestru.
Gde nevesta tvoya?
Rintra, otvet', gde gnevnaya Okalitron?
Vse li v pustyne gor'ko plachet ona?
Uvy, tak i est'. Privedi ee, Rintra, syuda, privedi ee,
Rintra, ko mne!

Vstan', vladyka ognya!
Brat'ev svoih privedi, solncelikij vityaz'.
Plemya moih synovej zret' ya hochu!
Slovno letnie zvezdy, goryat oni!
Kazhdyj grivoj svoeyu tryaset zlatoj!
Rintra, groznyj korol', ty likuesh' v soznanii moshchi svoej,
vziraya na nih".
|nitarmon spit
Vosemnadcat' vekov: CHelovek - ee greza!
Noch' Prirody i rvanye struny arf!
Spit posredine pesni svoej nochnoj,
Vosemnadcat' vekov zhenstvennym snom spit.
Teni lyudej v istonchivshihsya kandalah, v peretlevshih putah
vitayut vverhu:
Nebo Evropy vkloch'.
Angelu Al'biona uzhe ne do gneva:
Strashno stuchitsya tucha v britanskij breg,
Nyne ne gnetom, a slavoyu, gryadushchej svobodoyu chrevata i -
navsegda.
Angelov glozhet erah.
V Zale Soveta oni, no stuchitsya tucha
Strashnym stukom i v Zalu Soveta. Grom
Gryanul nad golovami zastupnikov Al'biona; oni pali nazem',
vo prah.

CHas lezhali oni,
Zamurovany v ruhnuvshej Zale. No slovno
Zvezdy nad mertvym morem, providya Smert',
Bitvy gryadushchie i porazhen'ya, - vosstali v tumane i strahe
nad mirom,

Molcha posledovav za Vlastelinom Ognya proch' iz pyshnyh
razvalin
V zmiepodobnyj i Zmiyu vozdvignutyj hram na vershine,
s kotoroj
On zatmeval nebo Anglii, ten'yu svoeyu mracha belyj ostrov.
V tuchah, chrevatyh vojnoyu, stupal ognenosnyj Vladyka
po svetu,
Angely sledom vdol' Temzy bregov beskonechnyh v sobor
pospeshali;
Tam, v Verulame, svyashchennye svetochi yarko goreli po stenam;
Tam dragocennye kamni - netlenny, kak te, chto na nebe, -
struili
Svet v dvunadesyat' cvetov, na zemle iz kotoryh izvestno
premalo,
V tu ravnozvezdnuyu t'mu, pyati organam chuvstv zapovednuyu
temen',
CHto, kak Potop, zatoplyaet soznan'e zhivushchim i ochi vvergaet
V dve postoyannyh orbity, ob®yavshie razom i veshchi, i mysli, -
Dubom obshity - po dubu rez'ba - iz massivnogo kamnya
kolonny;
Byli zdes' zakrepleny zven'ya nizhnie vechno zybuchej spirali,
V Nebo Nebes uhodyashchej; i Nozdri Zlatye vorot zatvorilis'
I ne vbirali iznankoyu izgolodavsheyusya Beskonechnost'.
Mysl' pretvorit' vozmogla Beskonechnost' zhivuyu
v kovarnogo Zmiya,

V plameni vsepozhirayushchem miru predstavshego, - i cheloveki,
Placha, bezhali ot vzora ego v Sokrovennogo Mraka chashchoby,
Ibo iz Vechnyh Lesov poluchilis' premnogie smertnye Zemli,
V vihre prostranstva vrashchayas', potopleny, kak v okeane, -
i tol'ko
Ploti vershiny poslednie chut' podnimalis' nad chernoj vodoyu.
Zmiepodobnyj vozdvignut' vo slavu Kovarnogo Hram
poreshili, -
Ten' Beskonechnosti, nyne raz®yatoj na cikly konechnyh
vrashchenij,
Angelom stal CHelovek, Nebo krugom, Gospod' - vencenosnym
tiranom.

Nyne prishel drevnij Strazh v etot Hram i vzoshel on na yuzhnuyu
papert',
Vsyu okruzhennuyu naichernejshih listov chernolistom, v doline,
Gluho i skryto obstavshej Naklonnuyu Nochi Kolonnu, zavetnym
Purpurnym cvetom porosshuyu - obrazom sladko-kovarnogo YUga,
Nekogda k Nebu vznesennuyu gordoj glavoj CHeloveka, a nyne
Kryshkoj prikrytuyu, kak volosataya i bezgolovaya SHeya, -
Nochi Kolonnu, naklonnuyu v storonu Severa, ibo ottuda,
Vodovorot toshnotvornyj, glyadela, zvala i manila Pogibel'.

Anglii Angel vstal
Nad Kolonnoyu Nochi, Urizena vidya,
Urizena s Mednoyu knigoj ego,
Kotoruyu koroli i zhrecy perepisali, daby ustrashit' eyu mir,
Sever i YUg kaznya.

Blednyj ogon' i tuchi tyazhelo katilis' v nochi |nitarmon,
Vkrug Al'biona utesov i londonskih sten; |nitarmon spala.
Kluby gustye sedogo tumana - Religiya, Vojsko i Carstvo, -
Tayali, ibo Urizen reshil knigu raskryt', stradan'em
ispolnyas'.
Tyazhko proklinala izmuchennye Nebesa britanskaya yunost',
Ibo sploshnoj mrak nastupil, podobayushchij
Angelu Al'biona.
Roditeli ottaskivali ih proch', i Prestarelaya Nevinnost'
Propovedovala, polzaya po sklonu Skaly,
lishayushchej myslej, -
Kosti Prestareloj Nevinnosti skol'zili po sklonu,
plot' shipela ognem,
Zmiyu vozdvignutyj Hram, v vozduh vzmyv, zatenyal i mrachil
belyj Ostrov;
Angela Al'biona rydaniya prozvuchali v plameni Orka,
Tshchetno trubya o nachale Sudnogo dnya.

Plach - i vse gromche i gromche - stoyal i v Vestminstere;
vylo abbatstvo;
Tajnogo Znan'ya hranitel' pokinul svoyu vekovuyu obitel',
Plamenem Orka gonim: meh na ryase toporshchilsya,
vors i volos'ya
Iz parika vstali dybom i s plot'yu i mozgom sroslis'
voedino.
V dikih muchen'yah on mchalsya po ulicam, yarostnym vetrom
gonimyj, k vorotam
Parka; soldaty sharahalis'; vopli ego raznosilis' v pustyne.

Krik nad Evropoj, rev!
Skovannyj Ork stenaniyam vnemlet, likuya,
No Palamabron potryasaet svoim
Pylayushchim fakelom; Rintra zhe derzhit v podzemnyh glubinah
svoi legiony do vernoj pory.

|nitarmon smeetsya vo sne (torzhestvo ee zhenskogo znan'ya!),
Vidya, chto v tyur'my zhilishcha, i v uznikov lyudi teper'
prevratilis';
Prizraki, teni i spektry povsyudu, a okna - v proklyat'yah
reshetok;
Strashnoe "Bog nakazhet" nachertano na dveryah i "Strashis'!" -
v Nebe;
V tyazhkih okovah v zastenke lezhit gorozhanin; i zhitel'
predmest'ya
V tyazhkih okovah bredet; i krest'yanina kosti treshchat
i kroshatsya.

V tuchah Urizena Orkovo plamya pobedno bushuet, szhiraya
Plot' Al'bionova Strazha i nezhnye moshchnye chleny kalecha;
Kriki i stony, stenan'ya i plachi, otchayan'ya zhalkie rechi
O gibeli Strazha nad Al'bionom povisli. I tshchetno vzyvaet
Ognennyj Angel v pozore besslavnom svoem i v bezmernom
muchen'e
K Sudnomu dnyu: on trubit chto est' sily - truba ostaetsya
bezzvuchna!
Trizhdy pytaetsya on Strashnyj sud vozvestit',
voskreshaya usopshih.

Ochnulsya moshchnyj duh
Po imeni N'yuton - podnyal trubu i dunul
S chudovishchnoj siloj vo ves' Al'bion!
Kak list'ya Oseni, zhelty i mertvy,
Miriady Angelov pali s Nebes,
Ishcha svoi zemnye mogily, treshcha polymi kostyami i zhalko kricha.

Togda prosnulas' |nitarmon, ne vedaya bol'she o tom,
chto ona spala.
Vosemnadcat' vekov
Minovali, kak budto ih ne bylo vovse.
Synovej s docher'mi ona prizvala
Na prazdnestvo pyshnyh polnochnyh zabav
V ee hrustal'nyj dom,
Takuyu Pesn' zapev:

"Docher' |tinta, vstan'! Pust' ugrozhaet CHerv' -
On tebya ne pozhret, poka ne projdet Noch',
Noch' Svyashchennyh tenej,
Kogda odinok chelovek.

Docher' |tinta, Carica Vod, kak v nebesah ty siyaesh'
prekrasno!
Docher' |tinta, skol' schastliva ya zret' tvoi chada
vmeste s toboyu!
Rezvye rybki v lunnoj dorozhke - malye chada tvoi,
|tinta!
Docher' moya, ty dushe ugodna, bol' ee ran ty zagovorish' -
Docher' moya, dolgozhdannoj laskoj nogi omyla |nitarmon!

Manata-Varkion!
Svet materinskoj dushi, plameneesh' v dome.
S toboj, zlatokrylym, tvoi orly.
Plamya nezhnogo zabluzhdeniya, vymolvit' trudno, naskol'ko
ty mne zhelanen!

Gde moya rajskaya ptica soblazna, Leuta, dvuedinstvo lyubvi
s molchan'em?
Leuta, radugi mnogocvet'e na kryl'yah!
Leuta, mat' cvetov!
S nezhnoj ulybkoj CHuma! Vizhu tvoj svet!
Dshcheri tvoi, o Dshcher',
Peretekayut odna v druguyu, perelivayutsya, kak sladkie zapahi.

Vstan' i ty, Antamon!
YUnyj korol' serebristoj rosy, ne medli!
Pochemu ty pokinul Mater' svoyu?
YA vizhu odna, kak gorish' hrustalem,
YA vizhu, kak l'esh'sya v efire mirov,
Sulya ispolnen'e zhelanij serdcam.
Moj Antamon! sem' Hramov sestry tvoej Leuty istovo ishchut
tvoej lyubvi!

Sladkoj Utuny glas
Slyshu otnyne pod krovom |nitarmon.
Tajnu zhenshchin zachem ty otkryla vsem?
Uvy, moe pechal'noe ditya, naslazhdenie mgnoven'e spustya
uvyanet.
Teotormon! Moj syn,
Schast'ya lishennyj, ya vizhu, ty gor'ko plachesh'!

Sota i Tiralata! zhil'cy peshcher,
Vosstan'te iz tajnoj t'my i utesh'te moguchego Vraga
plenitel'noj pesnej!
Ukrotite vashi zlatopodkovannye gromy i sderzhite chernyh
konej!

Ork, na brat'ev vzglyani!
Ork, s ulybkoj vzglyani!
Ulybnis', moj iz serdca rozhdennyj syn,
svoim krovavym siyaniem gory zalej!

S etim umolkla, i chada ee prinyalis' vozle pyshnosti lunnoj
Zvezdy budit', plennic Losa, svoi raspevaya bessmertnye
gimny,
V zhilah prirody vzygralo vino nebyvaloj razgul'noj Pirushki;
Utro otkrylo Vrata Vostoka - bezhali
Kazhdyj na prezhnee mesto svoe. I |nitarmon vozrydala.

I tol'ko strashnyj Ork,
Uvidev Voshod, ne pozhelal vozvratit'sya.
Nizvergnut s nedavnej vershiny, on pal
Na vinogradniki Francii, tut zhe zaplamenevshie krov'yu,
gromom, ognem.

Solnce v ogne, v krovi!
Uzhas stoit krugom!
Zolotye kolesnicy pokatilis' na krasnyh kolesah
po krasnoj krovi.
Gnevnyj Lev udaril hvostom po zemle!
Tigr vykralsya iz tumana, ishcha dobychu!
Mater' zaplakala.

I togda groznyj Los
V grome i grohote predstal pered vsem mirom
I krikom, pronzivshim Prirodu naskvoz',
Sozval svoih synovej, vozveshchaya im srazhen'e
do poslednej kapli krovi.

Perevod V. L. Toporova

FROM "MILTON"

IZ PO|MY "MILXTON"

x x x

And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England's mountains green?
And was the holy Lamb of God
On England's pleasant pastures seen?

And did the Countenance Divine
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here
Among these dark Satanic Mills?

Bring me my Bow of burning gold:
Bring me my Arrows of desire:
Bring me my Spear: O clouds unfold!
Bring me my Chariot of fire.

I will not cease from Mental Fight,
Nor shall my Sword sleep in my hand
Till we have built Jerusalem
In England's green & pleasant Land.

x x x

Na etot gornyj sklon krutoj
Stupala l' angela noga?
I znal li agnec nash svyatoj
Zelenoj Anglii luga?

Svetil li skvoz' tuman i dym
Nam lik gospodnij s vyshiny?
I byl li zdes' Erusalim
Mezh temnyh fabrik satany?

Gde vernyj mech, kop'e i shchit,
Gde strely molnij dlya menya?
Pust' tucha groznaya primchit
Mne kolesnicu iz ognya.

Moj duh v bor'be nesokrushim,
Nezrimyj mech vsegda so mnoj.
My vozvedem Erusalim
V zelenoj Anglii rodnoj.

x x x

Thou hearest the Nightingale begin the Song of Spring.
The Lark sitting upon his earthy bed, just as the morn
Appears, listens silent; then springing from the waving
Cornfield, loud
He leads the Choir of Day: trill, trill, trill, trill,
Mounting upon the wings of light into the Great Expanse,
Reechoing against the lovely blue & shining heavenly Shell,
His little throat labours with inspiration; every feather
On throat & breast & wings vibrates with the effluence
Divine
All Nature listens silent to him, & the awful Sun
Stands still upon the Mountain looking
on this little Bird
With eyes of soft humility & wonder, love & awe,
Then loud from their green covert all the Birds begin
their Song:
The Thrush, the Linnet & the Goldfinch, Robin & the Wren
Awake the Sun from his sweet reverie upon
the Mountain.
The Nightingale again assays his song, & thro' the day
And thro' the night warbles luxuriant, every Bird
of Song
Attending his loud harmony with admiration & love.
This is a Vision of the lamentation of Beulah
over Ololon.

x x x

Ty slyshish', pervyj solovej zavodit pesn' vesny -
Mezh tem kak zhavoronok rannij na zemlyanoj posteli
Sidit, prislushivayas' molcha, edva zabrezzhit svet.
No skoro, vyporhnuv iz morya volnuyushchejsya rzhi,
Vedet on hor veselyj dnya -
Trel'-trel', trel'-trel', trel'-trel', -
Vzvivayas' vvys' na kryl'yah sveta - v bezmernoe
prostranstvo.
I zvuki ehom otdayutsya, stokrat otrazheny
Nebesnoj rakovinoj sinej. A malen'koe gorlo
Rabotaet, ne ustavaya, i kazhdoe pero
Na gorle, na grudi, na kryl'yah trepeshchet ot priliva
Bozhestvennogo toka. Vsya priroda,
Umolknuv, slushaet. I solnce na grebne dal'nih gor
Ostanovilos' i glyadit na malen'kuyu ptichku
Glazami straha, udivlen'ya, smiren'ya i lyubvi.
No vot iz-pod zelenoj krovli svoj golos podayut
Vse probudivshiesya pticy dnevnye - chernyj drozd,
Malinovka i konoplyanka, shchegol i korolek -
I budyat solnce na vershine ot sladostnogo sna.
A tam uzh snova solovej zal'etsya shchedroj trel'yu,
Zashchelkaet na vse lady s zakata do utra.
I vsyudu - v roshchah i polyah - s lyubov'yu,
s izumlen'em
Pered garmoniej ego umolknet ptichij hor.

x x x

Thou perceivest the Flowers put forth their precious Odours,
And none can tell how from so small a center comes such sweets,
Forgetting that within that Center Eternity expands
Its ever during doors that Og & Anak fiercely guard.
First, e'er the morning breaks, joy opens in the flowery bosoms,
Joy even to tears, which the Sun rising dires,
first the Wild Thyme
And Meadow-sweet, downy & soft waving among the reeds,
Light springing on the air, lead the sweet Dance: they wake
The Honeysuckle sleeping on the Oak; the flaunting beauty
Revels along upon the wind; the White-thorn, lovely May,
Opens her many lovely eyes listening; the Rose still sleeps
None dare to wake her; soon she bursts her crimson curtain'd bed
And comes forth in the majesty of beauty; every Flower,
The Pink, the Jessamine, the Wall-flower, the Carnation,
The Jonquil, the mild Lilly, opes her heavens; every Tree
And Flower & Herb soon fill the air with an innumerable Dance,
Yet all in order sweet & lovely. Men are sick with Love,
Such is a Vision of the lamentation of Beulah over Ololon.

x x x

Ty zamechaesh', chto cvety l'yut zapah dragocennyj.
No neponyatno, kak iz centra stol' malogo kruzhka
Ishodit stol'ko aromata. Dolzhno byt', my zabyli,
CHto v etom centre - beskonechnost', ch'i tajnye vrata
Hranit nevidimaya strazha bessmenno den' i noch'.

Edva rassvet zabrezzhit, radost' vsyu dushu
raspahnet
Blagouhayushchuyu. Radost' do slez. Potom ih solnce
Do kapli vysushit.
Sperva tim'yan i kashka
Pushistaya kachnutsya i, vsporhnuv
Na vozduh, nachinayut tanec dnya
I budyat zhimolost', chto spit, ob®emlya dub.
Vsya krasota zemli, razviv po vetru flagi,
Likuet. I, glaza besschetnye raskryv,
Boyaryshnik drozhit, prislushivayas' k plyaske,
A roza spit eshche. Ee budit' ne smeet
Nikto do toj pory, poka ona sama,
Rastorgnuv pred soboj purpurnyj polog,
Ne vyjdet v carstvennom velich'e krasoty.

Togda uzh vse cvety - gvozdika, i zhasmin,
I liliya v tishi - svoe raskroyut nebo.
Lyuboe derevo, lyuboj cvetok, trava
Napolnyat vozduh ves' raznoobraznoj plyaskoj.
No vse zhe v lad, v poryadke strogom. Lyudi
Bol'ny lyubov'yu...

Perevod S. YA. Marshaka

KOMMENTARII {*}

{* Nastoyashchie kommentarii opirayutsya na sleduyushchie issledovaniya: Damon S.
F. The Blake Dictionary: The Ideas and Symbols of William Blake, Providence,
1965; Beer, John. Blake's Visionary Universe, Manchester, 1969; Erdman D. V.
Blake: Prophet Against Empire, N. Y., 1977. Ispol'zovany takzhe primechaniya A.
Ostrajker v izdanii The Complete Poems of William Blake, Ed. by Alicia
Ostriker, Penguin Books, 1977.}

Pervye posmertnye izdaniya Blejka otnosyatsya k seredine XIX veka. V
osnovnom, oni byli osushchestvleny uchastnikami "Prerafaelitskogo bratstva".
Osobenno veliki zaslugi brat'ev Rossetti i Aleksandra Gilkrista (em.
predislovie, s. 6-7).
Nauchnoe izdanie Blejka bylo vpervye podgotovleno v 1925 g. serom Dzh.
Kinsom, posvyativshim izucheniyu ego tvorchestva v celom okolo shestidesyati let.
Uchenyj osushchestvil i faksimil'nye perepechatki vseh doshedshih do nas
nagravirovannyh samim Blejkom proizvedenij. Itogom raboty Dzh. Kinsa nad
tvorchestvom Blejka yavilis' ego izdaniya 60-h godov: Geoffrey Keynes (Ed.).
The Complete Writing of William Blake, Oxford, 1966; Geoffrey Keynes (Ed.).
The Letters of William Blake, Hart-Davis, 1968.
Iz drugih sovremennyh izdanij ukazhem odnotomniki pod redakciej U. B.
Jetsa {The Poems of William Blake, Ed. by W. B. Yeats, Lnd. 1905), A.
Kejzina {The Portable Blake, Ed. by A. Kazin, N. Y., 1946) i novejshee
izdanie A. Ostrajker.
V Rossii pervoe upominanie o Blejke poyavilos' v 1834 g., kogda v
zhurnale "Teleskop" byla perepechatana iz kakogo-to anglijskogo zhurnala
zametka, harakterizovavshaya poeta v duhe togdashnih predstavlenij kak
"bezumca". Pervye stihotvornye perevody iz Blejka byli sdelany v 1900 g. K.
Bal'montom (voshli v ego knigu "Iz mirovoj poezii", Berlin, 1921). S 10-h
godov Blejka nachal perevodit' S. Marshak, periodicheski vozvrashchavshijsya k nemu
na protyazhenii desyatiletij i sdelavshij ego tvorchestvo dostoyaniem shirokogo
kruga russkih chitatelej. V 1965 g. vyshel ego itogovyj sbornik "Vil'yam Blejk
v perevodah S. Marshaka". Mnogie perevody S. Marshaka bez izmenenij
perepechatyvalis' v posleduyushchih izdaniyah: "Poeziya anglijskogo romantizma"
("Biblioteka vsemirnoj literatury", M., 1975) i odnotomnik, podgotovlennyj k
150-letiyu so dnya smerti Blejka (Vil'yam Blejk. Stihi, M., 1978). |ti dva
izdaniya otrazili i rabotu drugih poetov-perevodchikov, obrativshihsya k Blejku
v poslednie gody (daty pervyh publikacij perevodov nami v dal'nejshem ne
otmechayutsya; special'no otmecheny tol'ko perevody, publikuemye v dannom
izdanii vpervye).
Teksty originalov v nastoyashchem izdanii dany po knige The Poetical Works
of William Blake, Ed. with an Introduction and Textual Notes by John
Sampson, Lnd., Oxford University Press, 1934. V izdanii Dzh. Sempsona
orfografiya i punktuaciya, kak pravilo, privedeny v sootvetstvie s sovremennoj
normoj, hotya sohraneny narusheniya grammaticheskih norm, naibolee harakternye
dlya Blejka, a takzhe sushchestvennye dlya ego metriki i ritmiki.
Poeticheskij yazyk Blejka v celom sootvetstvuet normam anglijskoj
literaturnoj rechi konca XVIII - nachala XIX veka. Arhaichnost' skazyvaetsya v
shirokom upotreblenii ustarevshih glagol'nyh i mestoimennyh form (art, doth,
hast, wilt, canst, seeketh i t. p.; thou, thee, thy, thyself), v
osobennostyah napisaniya nekotoryh slov (desart, thro, giv'n, watry, eyne i
dr.), poroyu vyzvannyh trebovaniyami tak naz. "vizual'noj rifmy" (eye-rhyme),
a takzhe v ottenkah semantiki, ne vsegda sootvetstvuyushchej' sovremennym
znacheniyam slov.
Pomimo sluchaev naibolee trudnyh i vazhnyh dlya ponimaniya teksta, podobnye
otstupleniya ot utverdivshejsya v sovremennom yazyke normy ne ogovarivayutsya, kak
i primery tipichnoj dlya poeticheskogo yazyka sintaksicheskoj inversii ("And
builds a Hell in Heavens despite" i t. p.).
Osnovnye trudnosti dlya chitatelya sozdaet obilie neobychnyh imen iz
oblasti blejkovskoj mifologii, a takzhe ne vsegda ulovimye specificheskie
znacheniya ryada ponyatij filosofii Blejka. Ocherk vazhnejshih ponyatij takogo roda
daetsya vo vstupitel'noj stat'e. Sredi mnogochislennyh obrazov blejkovskoj
mifologii vazhnejshee znachenie imeyut: Urizen (Urizen) - simvol mehanicheskogo
Razuma, nepriemlemogo dlya Blejka, voploshchenie tiranicheskogo nachala, nasiliya i
nesvobody; Los (Los, anagramma latinskogo sol - "solnce") - "Vechnyj prorok",
olicetvoryayushchij Tvorcheskij Genij; Ork (Ore, anagramma latinskogo cor -
"serdce") - simvol vol'nosti i revolyucii. |ti i drugie personazhi obladayut v
mire Blejka svoimi |manaciyami (sm. komment. k stihotvoreniyu "Spektr i
|manaciya").
Filosofskie motivy i funkcii, vypolnyaemye v blejkovskoj mifologii
otdel'nymi ee personazhami i ih emanaciyami, dalee raz®yasnyayutsya tol'ko v
neobhodimyh sluchayah primenitel'no k tekstu kommentiruemogo stihotvoreniya.
Raskryty takzhe naibolee sushchestvennye mifologicheskie, biblejskie i
literaturnye (osobenno shekspirovskie i mil'tonovskie) reminiscencii,
kotorymi izobiluet poeziya Blejka.

POETICAL SKETCHES
PO|TICHESKIE NABROSKI

Sbornik otpechatan v 1783 g. na sredstva, predostavlennye Dzh. Flaksmenom
(John Flaxman) i svyashchennikom |. Met'yu (A. S. Mathew), bez vedoma Blejka
redaktirovavshim nekotorye stihotvoreniya. Sushchestvuet versiya, soglasno kotoroj
Blejk, nedovol'nyj vmeshatel'stvom Met'yu, zabral iz tipografii ves' tirazh,
namerevayas' ego unichtozhit', i sohranilis' lish' 22 ekzemplyara iz chisla
podarennyh avtorom svoim znakomym. Odnako najdeny i ekzemplyary s
darstvennymi nadpisyami Dzh. Flaksmena i ego zheny; eto zastavlyaet
predpolozhit', chto tirazh polnost'yu postupil v rasporyazhenie Flaksmena i Met'yu,
oplativshih rashody po izdaniyu. Novejshimi issledovaniyami ustanovleno, chto
kniga byla otpechatana v tipografii izvestnogo izdatelya Dzhona Nikolsa,
specializirovavshegosya na perepechatkah raritetov i pervym predprinyavshego
izdanie srednevekovyh rukopisej i hronik.

1. SONG
1. PESNYA

Odno iz pervyh stihotvorenij Blejka, napisannyh, kogda emu bylo okolo
14 let.
the Prince of Love - |ros, ili Kupidon
my golden wing - veroyatno, imeetsya v vidu Psiheya, neredko
izobrazhavshayasya v vide babochki ili molodoj zhenshchiny s kryl'yami babochki
Privodim perevod A. Parina:

Nesli bezzabotnye kryl'ya moi
Menya po lugam, po dolinam,
Poka ya ne vstretila knyazya lyubvi
I stal on moim vlastelinom.

I on pletenicej uvil mne chelo
I v volosy vplel mne lilei,
I v sad, gde vse zolotom bujnym cvelo,
Voshla ya, ot schast'ya hmeleya.

I majskie rosy kropili kryla,
I pela ya pesni, likuya, -
SHelkovaya set' mne kryla oplela,
Popala ya v klet' zolotuyu.

I lyubo s ulybkoj u kletki sidet'
I slushat' menya charodeyu,
Na kryl'ya moi zolotye glyadet',
Glumyas' nad nevolej moeyu.

2. TO SPRING
2. K VESNE

Pervoe stihotvorenie iz tak naz. "Stihov o vremenah goda", gde u Blejka
vpervye vyrazhena ideya ciklichnosti chelovecheskoj: zhizni i princip
chetyrehstupenchatogo postroeniya, vazhnyj dlya ego kosmogonii (sm. komment. k
"Stranstviyu" i "Brakosochetaniyu Raya i Ada").
...languish'd head - citata iz Mil'tona (John Milton, 16081674):
"Komus" (Comus, 1634, 1. 744); "Samson Borec" {Samson Agonistes, 1671, 1.
119)

5. TO WINTER
5. K ZIME

mount Hecla - Gekla, vulkan v Islandii

6. MAD SONG
6. BEZUMNAYA PESNYA

Naveyano chteniem "Korolya Lira", prezhde vsego monologami |dgara. V
sbornike Tomasa Persi (Thomas Percy, 1729-1811) "Relikty drevneanglijskoj
poezii" (Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, 1765), s kotorym Blejk, po vsej
vidimosti, byl horosho znakom, est' cikl iz shesti stihotvorenij pod obshchim
zaglaviem "Bezumnye pesni". Schitaetsya odnim iz pervyh proizvedenij Blejka, v
kotoryh vyrazilos' nepriyatie uzkoracionalisticheskogo materializma XVIII v.
...the night is a-cold - sr. v "Korole Lire" (akt III, sc. 4): "Poor
Tom's a-cold"
Like a fiend in a cloud - u Blejka oblako - simvol tela, yavlyayushchegosya
temnicej dushi (sm. v "Pesnyah Nevedeniya" "Vstuplenie" i "CHernyj mal'chik", a
takzhe v "Pesnyah Poznaniya" - "Ditya-gore")

7. TO THE MUSES
7. K MUZAM

Ida - Ida, gora na o. Krit, mesto rozhdeniya Zevsa; po drugim mifam, eta
gora nahodilas' v okrestnostyah Troi i na nej proishodil sud Parisa
Fair Nine - Devyat' muz antichnoj mifologii

8. BLIND MAN'S BUFF
8. IGRA V ZHMURKI

Ritmika stihotvoreniya i obraznost' pervyh strok navodyat na
predpolozhenie, chto pered nami podrazhanie komedii SHekspira "Naprasnye usiliya
lyubvi" {Love's Labour's Lost, Act V, Sc. 2): "When icicles hang by the wall
/ And Dick the shepherd blows his nail."

9. GWIN, KING OF NORWAY
9. KOROLX GVIN

Syuzhet ballady pozaimstvovan u Tomasa CHattertona (Thomas Chatterton,
1752-1770), ch'i proizvedeniya predstavlyayut soboj imitacii srednevekovoj
fol'klornoj poezii. V sbornike CHattertona "Vsyakaya vsyachina" (Miscellanies in
Prose and Verse, 1778 est' ballada "Gordred Koven" (Gordred Covan),
povestvuyushchaya o norvezhskom tirane, pokorivshem Ostrov cheloveka. D. |rdman
polagaet, chto v etom stihotvorenii Blejk otkliknulsya na sobytiya amerikanskoj
revolyucii 1776 g. Kak i nekotorye drugie kommentatory, on schitaet Gordreda
proobrazom Orka iz "prorocheskih knig" (sm. komment. k "Amerike").
Like blazing comets - vozmozhno, zaimstvovanie iz pervoj chasti "Genriha
IV" (akt I, sc. 1), gde armii shodyatsya "like the meteors of a troubled
heaven"

10. FROM "KING EDWARD THE THIRD"
10. PESNYA MENESTRELYA

Otryvok (sc. VI) iz nezavershennoj dramy "|duard III", naveyannoj
shekspirovskimi hronikami, glavnym obrazom, "Genrihom V". Osnovnym istochnikom
dlya Blejka posluzhila, vidimo, kniga Tomasa Kuka (Thomas Cooke. Life of King
Edward III of England, Lnd., 1734), izobrazhavshaya |duarda III "proslavlennym
obhoditel'nym ubijcej" ("a gallant and illustrious Murderer"), hotya obraz,
sozdannyj Blejkom, protivostoit takoj traktovke istoricheskogo personazha. V
drame vpervye poyavlyayutsya simvoly, razvitye v "prorocheskih knigah": Orel -
voploshchenie Geniya, Al'bion - simvol chelovechestva, poraboshchennogo mehanicheskim
razumom (sm. takzhe komment. k "Amerike").
Trojan Brutus - imeetsya v vidu Brut, kotoryj, soglasno mifu, bezhal iz
Troi i, pobediv gigantov, naselyavshih Britanskie ostrova, polozhil nachalo
nacii brittov
prevented - zd. prefigured, anticipated

11. FROM "AN ISLAND IN THE MOON"
11. STIHI IZ "OSTROVA NA LUNE"

Neokonchennaya rukopis' Blejka v proze i stihah, svoego roda satiricheskoe
obozrenie v tradiciyah literatury XVIII v., byla sozdana primerno k 1784 g.
Po zamyslu dolzhna byla izobrazhat' zhitelej Luny kak obshchestvo, "imeyushchee
nekotoroe shodstvo s Angliej". V personazhah proizvedeniya parodijno
zapechatleny nekotorye druz'ya Blejka i on sam. Publikuyutsya pesni iz 9-j i
11-j glav etoj rukopisi: oni ispolnyayutsya filosofom Kvidom po prozvishchu Cinik
(imeetsya v vidu Blejk) i miss Dzhittipin (veroyatno, imeetsya v vidu zhena Dzhona
Flaksmena, sm. komment. k "Poeticheskim nabroskam").
Sir Isaac Newton - na N'yutona Blejk bezosnovatel'no vozlagal vinu za
vocarenie mehanisticheskogo razuma kak normy myshleniya i povedeniya
Doctor South / Or Sherlock upon Death - Podrazumevayutsya avtory
religioznyh traktatov Robert Saut (1634-1716) i Uil'yam SHerlok (1641-1707);
poslednemu, v chastnosti, prinadlezhit sochinenie A Practical Discourse
concerning Death, 1689.
Sutton - Tomas Satton (1532-1611), filantrop, osnovavshij na nachalah
blagotvoritel'nosti muzhskuyu shkolu i priyut dlya prestarelyh "CHarterhaus".

SONGS OF INNOCENCE AND OF EXPERIENCE
Shewing the Two Contrary States of the Human Soul

PESNI NEVEDENIYA I POZNANIYA,
izobrazhayushchie dva protivopolozhnyh sostoyaniya chelovecheskoj dushi

"Pesni Nevedeniya" sozdavalis' priblizitel'no mezhdu 1784-1790 gg.,
vpervye nagravirovany v 1789 g. (31 list, sohranilsya 21 ekzemplyar).
Stihotvoreniya "Nyanyushkina pesnya", "Zabludivshijsya mal'chik", "Svyatoj chetverg"
pervonachal'no vhodili v rukopis' "Ostrova na Lune".
"Pesni Poznaniya" sozdavalis' v osnovnom mezhdu 17901792 gg., vpervye
nagravirovany sovmestno s "Pesnyami Nevedeniya" v 1794 g. (54 lista,
sohranilos' 27 ekzemplyarov). V dal'nejshem gravirovalis' tol'ko vmeste s
pervym ciklom.
Pri okonchatel'nom redaktirovanii iz "Pesen Nevedeniya" v "Pesni
Poznaniya" byli pereneseny 4 stihotvoreniya: "Zabludshaya doch'", "Obretennaya
doch'", "SHkol'nik", "Golos drevnego barda". Stihotvorenie "K Tirze" dobavleno
ne ranee 1803 g.
Ideya ob®edineniya "Pesen" v edinoe celoe mogla byt' podskazana Blejku
ego lyubimym poetom Mil'tonom, izdavshim v 1645 g. v vide diptiha svoi
yunosheskie poemy L'Allegro i L Penseroso, gde odin i tot zhe geroj izobrazhen
na dvuh stadiyah svoego duhovnogo razvitiya. Shodnyj princip kompozicii
primenen Ajzekom Uottsom (Isaac Watts, 1674-1748) v ego "Bozhestvennyh pesnyah
dlya detej na prostom yazyke" {Divine Songs Attempted in Easy Language for the
Use of Children, 1715). Po svoemu soderzhaniyu, odnako, stihi Blejka libo
ochen' daleki ot poezii Uottsa, libo polemichny po otnosheniyu k nej.
V izdanii Dzh. Sempsona stihi raspolozheny soglasno blejkovskomu izdaniyu
1794 g. V dal'nejshem poryadok raspolozheniya menyalsya, okonchatel'nyj variant
ustanovlen serom Dzh. Kinsom i prinyat vo vseh novejshih izdaniyah, vklyuchaya i
nastoyashchee.

SONGS OF INNOCENCE PESNI NEVEDENIYA
13. INTRODUCTION
13. VSTUPLENIE

Stihotvorenie soderzhit osnovnuyu mysl' vsego cikla: ot bezmyatezhnosti
Nevedeniya cherez gorech' Poznaniya k vysshemu zhiznepriyatiyu. Privodim perevod V.
Toporova:

S dudkoj ya brodil v lesah,
Dul v zelenoe zherlo.
Vizhu: s tuchki v nebesah
Svesilos' ditya malo.

- Pro yagnenka mne sygraj! -
YA sygral, kak mne velyat.
- Ah! i snova nachinaj! -
Vizhu: bozhij mal'chik rad.

- Esli v pesne est' slova,
Ih, schastlivec, ne tai!
- Spel ya, chto igral sperva.
Hvalit on slova moi.

- V knizhku pesnyu pomesti,
CHtoby vse prochest' mogli! -
I uzh oblachko v puti...
Vzyal ya prigorshnyu zemli,

Eyu vodu zamutil
I trostinku polomal:
Bez pera i bez chernil
Detyam knigu napisal.

15. THE ECHOING GREEN
15. ZELENOE AU

Privodim perevod S. Marshaka:

Smeyushcheesya eho

Solnce vzoshlo,
I v mire svetlo.
CHist nebosvod.
Zvon s vyshiny
Slavit prihod
Novoj vesny.
V chashche lesnoj
Radostnyj gam
Vtorit vesnoj
Kolokolam.

A my, detvora,
CHut' svet na nogah,
Igraem s utra
Na veshnih lugah,
I vtorit nam eho
Raskatami smeha.
Vot dedushka Dzhon.
Smeetsya i on.
Sidit on pod dubom
So starym narodom,
Takim zhe bezzubym
I sedoborodym.

Nateshivshis' nashej
Veseloj igroj.
Sedye papashi
Bormochut poroj: -
Kazhis', ne vchera li
Na etom lugu
My tozhe igrali,
Smeyas' na begu,
I vzryvami smeha
Nam vtorilo eho!

A posle zakata
Pora po domam.
Tesnyatsya rebyata
Vokrug svoih mam.
Tak v sumerkah veshnih
Skvorchata v skvoreshnyah,
Gotovyas' ko snu,
Hranyat tishinu.
Ni krika, ni smeha
Vpot'mah na lugu.
Ustalo i eho.
Molchit, ni gugu.

16. THE LAMB
16. YAGNENOK

V stihotvorenii soderzhitsya evangel'skaya reminiscenciya: "Na drugoj den'
vidit Ioann idushchego k nemu Iisusa i govorit: Vot Agnec Bozhij, Kotoryj beret
na Sebya greh mira" (Ot Ioanna, I, 29). Sr. takzhe zaklyuchitel'nye stroki
traktata Blejka "Ne sushchestvuet estestvennoj religii" {There is No Natural
Religion): "Therefore God becomes as we are, that we may be as He is."
Perevod V. Toporova publikuetsya vpervye.
Privodim perevod S. Marshaka:

Agnec

Agnec, agnec belyj!
Kem ty, agnec, sdelan?
Kto pastis' tebya privel
V nash zelenyj veshnij dol,
Dal tebe volnistyj puh,
Golosok, chto nezhit sluh?

Kto on, agnec milyj?
Kto on, agnec milyj?

Slushaj, agnec krotkij,
Moj rasskaz korotkij.
Byl, kak ty, on slab i mal.
On sebya yagnenkom zval.
Ty - yagnenok, ya - ditya.
On takoj, kak ty i ya.

Agnec, agnec milyj,
Bog tebya pomiluj!

17. THE LITTLE BLACK BOY
17. NEGRITENOK

V stihotvoreniyah Uottsa (sm. komment. na s. 503) Praise for Birth and
Education in a Christian Land i Praise for the Gospel anglijskij mal'chik
blagodarit Boga za to, chto rodilsya hristianinom, a ne yazychnikom.
Stihotvorenie Blejka utverzhdaet ravenstvo vseh obitayushchih v carstve
Nevedeniya.
Privodim perevod S. Marshaka:

CHernyj mal'chik

Mne zhizn' v pustyne mat' moya dala,
I cheren ya - odna dusha bela.
Anglijskij mal'chik svetel, slovno den',
A ya chernej, chem temnoj nochi ten'.

Uchila mat' pod derevom menya
I, preryvaya laskami urok,
V siyan'e rannem plamennogo dnya
Mne govorila, glyadya na vostok:

- Vzglyani na Solnce - tam gospod' zhivet,
On ozaryaet mir svoim ognem.
Trave, zveryam i lyudyam on daet
Blazhenstvo utrom i otradu dnem.

My poslany syuda, chtob glaz privyk
K lucham lyubvi, k siyaniyu nebes.
I eto tel'ce, etot chernyj lik -
Ved' tol'ko tuchka il' tenistyj les.

Kogda glazam ne strashen budet den',
Rastaet tuchka. Skazhet on: "Pora!
Pokin'te, deti, listvennuyu sen',
Rezvites' zdes', u moego shatra!"

Tak govorila chasto mat' moya.
Anglijskij mal'chik, slushaj, esli ty
Iz beloj tuchki vyporhnesh', a ya
Osvobozhus' ot etoj chernoty, -

YA zaslonyu tebya ot znoya dnya
I budu gladit' zolotuyu pryad',
Kogda, golovku svetluyu klonya,
V teni shatra ty budesh' otdyhat'.

to bear the beams of love - sr. stihotvorenie Uottsa Grace Shining and
Nature Fainting: "Nor is my soul refined enough / To bear the beaming of his
love, / And feel his warmer smiles."
Is but a cloud - sm. komment. k stihotvoreniyu "Bezumnaya pesnya"; sr.
takzhe Dante "CHistilishche", II, st. 122-123

19. THE CHIMNEY SWEEPER
19. MALENXKIJ TRUBOCHIST

Stihotvorenie predstavlyaet soboj otklik Blejka na prizyvy peredovoj
obshchestvennosti Anglii zapretit' ekspluataciyu detskogo truda. |ta tema togda
shiroko obsuzhdalas' v anglijskoj pechati (sm., v chastnosti, "|sse o
trubochistah" CHarl'za Lema - Charles Lamb, 1775-1834). V 1824 g.
stihotvorenie bylo perepechatano v sostavlennom Dzh. Montgomeri al'manahe
Chimney Sweepers' Friend and Climbing Boys Album. Perevod V. Toporova
publikuetsya vpervye.
Privodim perevod S. Marshaka:

Malen'kij trubochist

Byl ya kroshkoj, kogda umerla moya mat'.
I otec menya prodal, edva lepetat'
Stal moj detskij yazyk. YA nevzgody terplyu,
Vashi truby ya chishchu, i v sazhe ya splyu.

Strigli davecha kudri u nas novichku,
Belokuruyu zhivo obstrigli bashku.
YA skazal emu: - Polno! Ne trat' svoih slez.
Sazha, bratec, ne lyubit kurchavyh volos!

Tom zabylsya, utih i, ujdya na pokoj,
V tu zhe samuyu noch' son uvidel takoj:
Budto my, trubochisty, -Dik, CHarli i Dzhim, -
V chernyh grobikah tesnyh, svernuvshis', lezhim.

No yavilsya k nam angel, - rasskazyval Tom, -
Nashi grobiki otper blestyashchim klyuchom,
I stremglav po lugam my pomchalis' k reke,
Smyli sazhu i grelis' v goryachem peske.

Nagishom, nalegke, bez tyazhelyh meshkov,
My vzobralis', smeyas', na gryadu oblakov,
I smeyushchijsya angel skazal emu: "Tom,
Bud' horoshim - i bog tebe budet otcom!"

V eto utro my shli na rabotu vpot'mah,
Kazhdyj s chernym meshkom i s metloyu v rukah.
Utro bylo holodnym, no Tom ne prodrog.
Tot, kto chesten i pryam, ne boitsya trevog.

'weep! 'weep! 'weep! - ironicheski obygryvaetsya tipichnoe dlya togo
vremeni razgovornoe proiznoshenie slova "sweep"

20. THE LITTLE BOY LOST
20. ZABLUDIVSHIJSYA MALXCHIK

Nekotorymi kommentatorami stihotvorenie rassmatrivaetsya kak predvestie
pozdnejshih filosofskih proizvedenij Blejka o chelovechestve, okazavshemsya v
plenu ploskoracionalisticheskih predstavlenij i utrativshem Boga. Perevod V.
Toporova publikuetsya vpervye.
Privodim perevod S. Marshaka:

"Gde ty, otec moj? Tebya ya ne vizhu,
Trudno bystrej mne idti.
Da govori zhe so mnoj, govori zhe,
Ili sob'yus' ya s puti!"

Dolgo on zval, no otec byl daleko.
Sumrak byl strashen i pust.
Nogi tonuli v tine glubokoj,
Par vyletal iz ust.

And away the vapour flew - Slovo "vapour" upotrebleno zdes' v znachenii
"bluzhdayushchij ogonek", podobnyj bolotnym ognyam (sr. will-o'-the wisp), i
neposredstvenno svyazano s "wandr'ng light" sleduyushchego stihotvoreniya. List,
na kotorom nagravirovany eti stihi, izobrazhaet mal'chika, protyagivayushchego ruki
k luchu sveta: on predchuvstvuet priblizhenie Otca.

21. THE LITTLE BOY FOUND
21. MALXCHIK NAJDENNYJ

Perevod V. Toporova publikuetsya vpervye.
Privodim perevod S. Marshaka:

Malen'kij mal'chik, ustalo bredushchij
Vsled za bolotnym ognem,
Zvat' perestal. No otec vezdesushchij
Byl neotluchno pri nem.

Mal'chika vzyal on i kratkoj dorogoj,
V sumrake yarko svetya,
Vyvel tuda, gde s toskoj i trevogoj
Mat' ozhidala ditya.

23. A CRADLE SONG
23. KOLYBELXNAYA

Po svoej metricheskoj organizacii "Kolybel'naya" blizka stihotvoreniyu
Uottsa Cradle Hymn. Odnako, esli v stihotvorenii Uottsa blagopoluchie
mladenca protivopostavleno bespriyutnosti Iisusa, po predaniyu rodivshegosya v
hlevu ("How much better thou'rt attended / Than the Son of God could be...
Here's no ox anear thy bed"), to Blejk skoree podcherkivaet blizost' rebenka
i tvorca ("Sweet babe once like thee, / Thy maker lay and wept for me").

24. THE DIVINE IMAGE
24. PO OBRAZU I PODOBIYU

all must love - V dannom sluchae slovo "must" ukazyvaet ne tol'ko
dolzhenstvovanie, no i sushchestvovanie, vystupaya sinonimom kak should, tak i
do.

25. HOLY THURSDAY
25. SVYATOJ CHETVERG

Privodim perevod S. Marshaka:

Kuda idut ryady detej, umytyh, chistyh, yasnyh,
V naryadnyh plat'yah - golubyh, zelenyh, sinih, krasnyh?
Sedye dyad'ki vperedi. Tolpa techet pod svody
Svyatogo Pavla, v gulkij hram, shumya, kak Temzy vody.

Kakoe mnozhestvo detej - tvoih cvetov, stolica!
Oni sidyat nad ryadom ryad, i svetyatsya ih lica.
Rastet v sobore smutnyj shum, nevinnyj gul yagnyat.
Ladoni podnyaty u vseh, i golosa zvenyat.

Kak burya, pen'e ih letit vverh iz predelov tesnyh,
Gremit, kak garmonichnyj grom sredi vysot nebesnyh.
Sedye pastyri vnizu. Lelejte zhe sirot,
CHtob dobryj angel ne ushel ot zapertyh vorot.

Holy Thursday - Den' Vozneseniya v anglikanskoj cerkvi (pervyj chetverg
maya). V londonskom sobore sv. Pavla v etot den' na torzhestvennuyu sluzhbu
sobirali sirot.
mighty wind - sr. Acts, II, 2-4

26. NIGHT
26. NOCHX

Privodim perevod V. Toporova, publikuemyj vpervye:

Noch'

Vzoshla, hot' vse eshche zakat,
Vechernyaya zvezda.
Umolkshi, v gnezdah pticy spyat,
Lish' ya lishen gnezda.
Luna, kak rastenie,
V nebesnom cvetenii
Lyubuetsya t'moj
S ulybkoj nemoj.

Pokojny travy i stoga,
Otrada dn_e_vnyh stad.
YAgnyata dremlyut. Na luga
Zastupniki speshat.
Oni, svetozarnye,
Vol'yut v blagodarnye
Zemnye sozdaniya
Svoe likovanie.

Oni obstanut tihost' gnezd
I mir zverinyh nor,
Nochnyh derev neslyshnyj rost
I sonnyj plesk ozer.
A vstretyat nespyashchego
I zhalko krichashchego -
Prebudut pri nem
Zabven'em i snom.

Gde krovoalchny Volk i Lev,
Oni vzdymayut ston
O tom, chtob sginul glad i gnev
I agnec byl spasen.
A zver' ne otstupitsya -
Pred bogom zastupyatsya
Za tvar' ubiennuyu,
Za dushu bescennuyu.

I v raj vedut ovcu so l'vom,
No lev uzhe ne tot:
Iz ognennyh ochej ruch'em
Zlatye slezy l'et.
"Moe prevrashchenie -
V ego vseproshchenii,
I krotost' ego -
Moe estestvo!

Teper', yagnenok, ya pasus'
S toboyu naravne
I Agncu Bozh'emu molyus'
V nebesnoj vyshine.
V blazhennom raskayan'e
Sbylis' moi chayan'ya,
Noch' stala blagoj,
A griva - zlatoj!"

And now beside thee... - sr. Isajya, II, 6: "Togda volk budet zhit'
vmeste s yagnenkom, i bars budet lezhat' vmeste s kozlenkom; i telenok, i
molodoj lev, i vol budut vmeste, i maloe ditya budet vodit' ih"
...life's river - sr. Otkrovenie Ioanna Bogoslova, 22,1: "I pokazal mne
chistuyu reku vody zhizni, svetluyu, kak kristall, ishodyashchuyu ot prestola Boga i
Agnca"

30. A DREAM
30. SON

V sbornike Uottsa imeetsya stihotvorenie The Ant, or Emmet po
metricheskomu risunku sovpadayushchee s etim stihotvoreniem Blejka.
hie = hasten

31. ON ANOTHER'S SORROW
31. O SKORBI BLIZHNEGO

Wiping all our tears away - sr. Otkrovenie Ioanna Bogoslova, 7. 17:
"...i otret Bog vsyakuyu slezu s ochej ih"

SONGS OF EXPERIENCE
PESNI POZNANIYA

32. INTRODUCTION
32. VSTUPLENIE

Stihotvorenie soderzhit prizyv k Padshemu CHeloveku, ch'im simvolom
vystupaet Zemlya, vosstat' i vernut' sebe utrachennoe mogushchestvo nad
Vselennoj. CHelovek dolzhen zhit' ne po zakonam mehanicheskogo razuma, a po
zakonam voobrazheniya, yavlyayushchegosya dlya Blejka vysshej sposobnost'yu cheloveka.
Calling the lapsed soul - podrazumevaetsya grehopadenie Adama i Evy
The starry pole - Severnyj polyus. V simvolike Blejka associiruetsya s
sostoyaniem vojny.
O Earth, O Earth, return! - sr. Ieremiya 22, 29: "O, zemlya, zemlya,
zemlya! Slushaj slovo Gospodne "
The starry floor, / The wat'ry shore - v simvolike Blejka oboznacheniya
carstva Urizena, ili zhe "n'yutonovskogo (sm. komment. na s. 505) kosmosa",
kak i starry Jealousy i the heavy chain v sleduyushchem stihotvorenii

33. EARTH'S ANSWER
33. OTVET ZEMLI

Razvitie temy predydushchego stihotvoreniya: voleyu Urizena mir okovan
cepyami straha i zla, a Vechnost' podmenena v nem konechnost'yu vremeni i
prostranstva.

35. HOLY THURSDAY
35. SVYATOJ CHETVERG

Parallel' k odnoimennomu stihotvoreniyu "Pesen Nevedeniya". Perevod V.
Toporova publikuetsya vpervye. Privodim perevod S. Marshaka:

Svyatoj chetverg

CHem etot den' vesennij svyat,
Kogda cvetushchaya strana
Hudyh, oborvannyh rebyat,
ZHivushchih vprogolod', polna?

CHto eto - pesnya ili ston
Nesetsya k nebu, trepeshcha?
Golodnyj plach so vseh storon.
O, kak strana moya nishcha!

Vidno, sutki naprolet
Zdes' carit nochnaya t'ma,
Nikogda ne taet led,
Ne konchaetsya zima.

Gde siyaet solnca svet,
Gde rosa poit cvety, -
Tam detej golodnyh net,
Net ugryumoj nishchety.

36. THE LITTLE GIRL LOST
36. ZABLUDSHAYA DOCHX

Grave = engrave
And the desart wild / Become a garden mild - Soglasno antichnoj
mifologii, Zemlya prevrashchaetsya v besplodnuyu pustynyu v period prebyvaniya
Persefony v podzemnom carstve Aida i vnov' rascvetaet kazhdoj vesnoj, kogda
po veleniyu Zevsa Persefona vozvrashchaetsya k svoej materi Demetre. Sr. takzhe
Isajya, 35, I: "Vozveselitsya pustynya i suhaya zemlya, i vozraduetsya strana
neobitaemaya, i rascvetet, kak narciss".
Lyca - Odin iz blejkovskih obrazov chistoj dushi, kotoraya stradaet,
priobshchayas' k Poznaniyu (sr. "Knigu Tel'"). Gravyura izobrazhaet ne semiletnyuyu
devochku, a devushku-podrostka v ob®yatiyah yunoshi.

37. THE LITTLE GIRL FOUND
37. OBRETENNAYA DOCHX

allay = put to rest

38. THE CHIMNEY SWEEPER
38. MALENXKIJ TRUBOCHIST

Parallel' k odnoimennomu stihotvoreniyu "Pesen Nevedeniya".

39. NURSE'S SONG
39. NYANYUSHKINA PESNYA

Parallel' k odnoimennomu stihotvoreniyu "Pesen Nevedeniya".

40. THE SICK ROSE
40. BOLXNAYA ROZA

V predstavleniyah Blejka lyubov' - eto chisto duhovnoe perezhivanie,
neprimirimoe s fizicheskim instinktom, simvolom kotorogo yavlyaetsya cherv' v
dannom stihotvorenii i drugih proizvedeniyah, izobrazhayushchih mir Poznaniya (v
stihah o Nevedenii etot obraz otsutstvuet). Privodim perevod A. Parina:

O roza, ty gibnesh'!
CHerv', miru nezrim,
V rokotanii buri,
Pod pokrovom nochnym

Vysmotrel lozhe
Alogo sna tvoego
I potajnoj i mrachnoj lyubov'yu
Gubit tvoe estestvo.

41. THE FLY
41. MOTYLEK

V XVIII v. slovo "fly" oznachalo lyuboe krylatoe nasekomoe yarkoj okraski.
Perevod V. Toporova publikuetsya vpervye Privodim perevod S. Marshaka:

Muha

Bednyazhka muha,
Tvoj letnij raj
Smahnul rukoyu
YA nevznachaj.

YA - tozhe muha:
Moj kratok vek.
A chem ty, muha,
Ne chelovek?

Vot ya igrayu,
Poyu, poka
Menya slepaya
Smetet ruka.

Kol' v mysli sila,
I zhizn', i svet,
I tam mogila,
Gde mysli net, -

Tak pust' umru ya
Ili zhivu, -
Schastlivoj muhoj
Sebya zovu.

Am not I / A fly like thee? - Sr. u T. Greya (Thomas Gray, 17161771) Ode
on the Spring: "Poor Moralist! and what art Thou? A solitary fly!"

42. THE ANGEL
42. ANGEL

Po svoemu obshchemu smyslu pereklikaetsya s "Bol'noj rozoj".

43. THE TYGER
43. TIGR

Parallel' k stihotvoreniyu "YAgnenok" iz "Pesen Nevedeniya".
Mnogochislennye tolkovaniya "Tigra" otrazhayut slozhnost' central'nogo
obraza-simvola. Bol'shinstvo sovremennyh kommentatorov v bol'shej ili men'shej
stepeni razdelyayut interpretaciyu, predlozhennuyu S. F. Demonom (S. F. Damon):
olicetvoryaya yarost' razrusheniya, Tigr simvoliziruet i ochistitel'nuyu energiyu,
neobhodimuyu, chtoby sokrushit' zabluzhdeniya i zlo mira, poraboshchennogo Urizenom,
i prolozhit' put' k svetu cherez temnye zarosli lyudskih samoobmanov i
zhestokostej, sostavlyayushchih sushchnost' sovremennogo bytiya.
Privodim perevod K. Bal'monta:

Tigr, tigr, zhguchij strah,
Ty gorish' v nochnyh lesah.
CHej bessmertnyj vzor, lyubya,
Sozdal strashnogo tebya?

V nebesah il' sred' zybej
Vspyhnul blesk tvoih ochej?
Kak derzal on tak parit'?
Kto posmel ogon' shvatit'?

Kto skrutil i dlya chego
Nervy serdca tvoego?
CH'eyu strashnoyu rukoj
Ty byl vykovan - takoj?

CHej byl molot, cepi ch'i,
CHtob skrepit' mechty tvoi?
Kto vzmetnul tvoj bystryj vzmah,
Uhvatil smertel'nyj strah?

V tot velikij chas, kogda
Vozzvala k zvezde zvezda,
V chas, kak nebo vse zazhglos'
Vlazhnym bleskom zvezdnyh slez, -

On, sozdanie lyubya,
Ulybnulsya l' na tebya?
Tot zhe l' on tebya sozdal,
Kto rozhden'e agncu dal?

Privodim takzhe shirokoizvestnyj perevod S. Marshaka:

Tigr, o tigr, svetlo goryashchij
V glubine polnochnoj chashchi,
Kem zaduman ognevoj
Sorazmernyj obraz tvoj?

V nebesah ili glubinah
Tlel ogon' ochej zverinyh?
Gde tailsya on veka?
CH'ya nashla ego ruka?

CHto za master, polnyj sily,
Svil tvoi tugie zhily
I pochuvstvoval mezh ruk
Serdca pervyj tyazhkij zvuk?

CHto za gorn pred nim pylal?
CHto za mlat tebya koval?
Kto vpervye szhal kleshchami
Gnevnyj mozg, metavshij plamya?

A kogda ves' kupol zvezdnyj
Orosilsya vlagoj sleznoj, -
Ulybnulsya l', nakonec,
Delu ruk svoih tvorec?

Neuzheli ta zhe sila,
Ta zhe moshchnaya ladon'
I yagnenka sotvorila,
I tebya, nochnoj ogon'?

Tigr, o tigr, svetlo goryashchij
V glubine polnochnoj chashchi!
CH'ej bessmertnoyu rukoj
Sozdan groznyj obraz tvoj?

forests of the night - u Dante ("Ad") i Mil'tona ("Komus") lesnaya
chashchoba olicetvoryaet zemnoe bytie

45. AH! SUN-FLOWER...
45. AH! PODSOLNUH!..

Who countest the steps of the sun - V "Metamorfozah" Ovidiya nimfa
Klitiya, otvergshaya lyubov' boga solnca Giperiona, obrashchena v cvetok, na
protyazhenii vsego dnya povorachivayushchij golovku vsled solncu.

46. THE LILY
46. LILEYA

Privodim perevod S. Marshaka:

Est' ship u rozy dlya vraga,
A u barashka est' roga.
No chistaya liliya tak bezoruzhna,
I, krome lyubvi, nichego ej ne nuzhno.

Privodim takzhe perevod V. Potapovoj:

Lilii

SHipy dlya zashchity ispytany Rozoj.
Svoej krasoty ne pyatnayut ugrozoj
V lyubovnom vsesilii lish' belye Lilii,
Vostorzhenno l'yushchie svoj blesk v izobilii.

47. THE GARDEN OF LOVE
47. SAD LYUBVI

Soglasno Blejku, v sfere Poznaniya vlastvuet cerkovnost', obrashchayushchaya v
kladbishche rajskij sad Nevedeniya, togda kak podlinnaya vera ne imeet nichego
obshchego s religioznoj dogmatikoj i zapretami. Perevod V. Toporova publikuetsya
vpervye.
Privodim perevod V. Potapovoj:

YA uvidel v Sadu Lyubvi,
Na zelenoj luzhajke, - tam,
Gde, byvalo, rezvilsya ya, -
Posredine stoyashchij Hram.

YA uvidel zatvory ego,
"Ty ne dolzhen!" - prochel na vratah.
I vzglyanul ya na Sad Lyubvi,
CHto vsegda utopal v cvetah.

No, vmesto dushistyh cvetov,
Mne predstali nadgrob'ya, ogrady
I svyashchenniki v chernom, vyazavshie ternom
ZHelan'ya moi i otrady.

48. THE LITTLE VAGABOND
48. MALENXKIJ BRODYAZHKA

Privodim perevod V. Toporova, publikuemyj vpervye:

Sorvanec

Mamanya, chem v cerkvi holodnoj drozhat',
Uzh luchshe v kabak ya otpravlyus' opyat';
Hot' znayu o tom, chto pivo s vinom
Na nebe schitayut smertel'nym grehom.

Vot esli by v cerkvi davali pivka,
Da greli by greshnikov u kamel'ka,
Lyuboj by oral svyashchennyj horal,
A gryaznyj kabak za uglom progoral;

Vot chto by svyashchenniku vypit' so mnoj -
YA vozlikoval by, kak ptichka vesnoj;
Da vygnat' k chertyam urodlivyh dam,
Kotorye nas priuchayut k postam.

Da esli b Gospod', kak papasha hmel'noj,
Igral by, durachilsya vmeste so mnoj,
Ne klyal Satanu za tyagu k vinu,
A vypil by s nim, da pritom ne odnu!

49. LONDON
49. LONDON

Privodim perevod V. Toporova, publikuemyj vpervye:

London

Razmyshlyaya o Pravah,
YA po Londonu brozhu.
V kazhdom vzore vizhu strah,
Strah i gore nahozhu.

V kazhdom krike kazhdyh ust,
V hore detskih golosov, -
Kazhdyj shoroh, kazhdyj hrust -
Rzhan'e rzhavyh kandalov.

Cerkov' kazhduyu klyanut
Trubochistov chernyh klichi,
Vopli veteranov l'yut
Krov' - v dvorcovoe velich'e.

A v nochi - vsego lyutej
SHlyuhi vizg, chernotvoryashchij
Novorozhdennyh - v chertej,
Novobrachnyh - v prah smerdyashchij.

each charter'd street ... charter'd Thames - Blejk ironicheski
obygryvaet slovo "charter", oznachayushchee summu privilegij i svobod,
predostavlennyh hartiyami gorodu Londonu.

50. THE HUMAN ABSTRACT
50. CHELOVECHESKAYA ABSTRAKCIYA

Parallel' k stihotvoreniyu "Po obrazu i podobiyu" iz "Pesen Nevedeniya".

51. INFANT SORROW
51. DITYA-GORE

Parallel' k stihotvoreniyu "Ditya-radost'" iz "Pesen Nevedeniya".

53. A LITTLE BOY LOST
53. ZABLUDIVSHIJSYA MALXCHIK

Parallel' k stihotvoreniyam "Zabludivshijsya mal'chik" i "Mal'chik
najdennyj" iz "Pesen Nevedeniya". Pereklikaetsya so stihotvoreniem Uottsa
Obedience to Parents.

55. TO TIRZAH
55. K TIRZE

Imya Tirza vzyato iz "Pesni Pesnej" (6, 4). Personazh figuriruet u Blejka
takzhe v "Mil'tone" i "Ierusalime". Olicetvorenie fizicheskoj strasti,
otvergnutoj, poskol'ku plotskij instinkt lishaet lyubov' duhovnosti. Na
gravyure izobrazheno telo mertveca, nad kotorym sklonilsya starik, gotovyashchij
ego k pogrebeniyu; na odeyanii starika nachertano: "It is raised a spiritual
body" (I Corinthians, 15, 44).

FROM "THE ROSSETTI MANUSCRIPTS"
IZ "MANUSKRIPTA ROSSETTI"

Al'bom, predstavlyayushchij soboj rabochuyu tetrad' Blejka i zapolnyavshijsya
risunkami i stihami priblizitel'no s 1789 po 1811 gg. Byl priobreten v 1847
g. Dante Gabrielem Rossetti. Soderzhit pervonachal'nye varianty ryada
stihotvorenij iz "Pesen Nevedeniya i Poznaniya", a takzhe stihi, ne vklyuchennye
v etot cikl, risunki, prozaicheskie zametki i pr. V izdanii Dzh. Kinsa
obosnovano delenie materiala etoj tetradi na tri razdela po hronologicheskomu
principu, sohranyaemoe i nami. Datirovka obosnovyvaetsya, ishodya iz razmeshcheniya
nabroskov teh gravyur, otnositel'no kotoryh s bol'shej ili men'shej tochnost'yu
izvestno vremya ispolneniya.

1789-1793

58. NEVER SEEK TO TELL THY LOVE...
58. SLOVOM VYSKAZATX NELXZYA...

Privodim perevod V. Toporova, ranee ne publikovavshijsya:

Izrechennaya lyubov'
Stanet otrechennoj;
I bezmolven, i nezrim
Veter sokrovennyj.

YA ej otkryl, ya ej otkryl
Lyubov' moyu i dushu -
Zadrozhala, zarydala,
Ubezhala tut zhe.

A prohozhij toj poroj,
Sokrovenno hladen,
I bezmolven, i nezrim,
Bystro s neyu sladil.

59. I SAW A CHAPEL ALL OF GOLD...
59. PREDSTAL MNE ZLATOGLAVYJ HRAM...

Odno iz stihotvorenij Blejka, oblichayushchih cerkov'-"bludnicu", kotoraya,
po ego predstavleniyam, ne imeet nichego obshchego s duhom i smyslom
hristianskogo ucheniya.
Perevod V. Toporova publikuetsya vpervye. Privodim perevod V. Potapovoj:

YA hram uvidel zolotoj -
I orobel. On byl otkryt,
I t'ma naroda pered nim
Molilas', plakala navzryd.

Uvidel ya zmeyu mezh dvuh
Kolonn, sverkavshih beliznoj.
Sbiv stvorki s petel' zolotyh,
Ona vpolzla v proem dvernoj.

V rubinah, perlah gladkij pol
Raskinulsya, kak zhar gorya.
A sklizkaya polzla, polzla
I dopolzla do altarya.

Na vino i hleb svyatoj
Izrygnula yad zmeya.
YA vernulsya v hlev svinoj.
Mezh svinej ulegsya ya.

61. I HEARD AN ANGEL SINGING...
61. YA SLYSHAL ANGELA PENXE...

Predpolagalos' v kachestve paralleli k stihotvoreniyu "Po obrazu i
podobiyu" iz "Pesen Nevedeniya". Otdel'nye stroki v neskol'ko izmenennom vide
voshli v "CHelovecheskuyu abstrakciyu" iz "Pesen Poznaniya".

62. A CRADLE SONG
62. KOLYBELXNAYA

Predpolagalos' v kachestve paralleli k "Kolybel'noj" iz "Pesen
Nevedeniya".
Perevod V. Toporova publikuetsya vpervye.

64. INFANT SORROW
64. DITYA-GORE

Dve pervye strofy voshli v odnoimennoe stihotvorenie iz "Pesen
Poznaniya".
But the time of youth is fled / And grey hairs are on my head - stroki
povtoreny v stihotvorenii "Pod mirtovym drevom" i s nebol'shim izmeneniem v
stihotvorenii "Angel" ("Pesni Poznaniya").

67. TO NOBODADDY
67. NICHXEMU OTCU

Odno iz mnogochislennyh stihotvorenij Blejka, napravlennyh protiv
oficioznoj cerkovnosti. Nobodaddy - neologizm Blejka (Daddy Nobody v
protivopolozhnost' Father of All).
Perevod V. Toporova publikuetsya vpervye.
Privodim perevod V. Potapovoj:

Nich'emu pape

Otec pridirchivyj! Zachem
Ty v oblakah, vysoko,
Skryvaesh'sya, nezrim i nem,
Ot ishchushchego oka?

Zachem tvoj sumrachnyj zakon,
YAzyk tvoj temnyj, polnyj gneva,
Nam povelyat vkushat' plody
Ne s dreva, - u zmei iz zeva?

Uzheli ottogo, chto k tajnosti
Otzyvchiv zhenskij pol do krajnosti?

71. MERLIN'S PROPHECY
71. PROROCHESTVO MERLINA

Merlin's Prophecy - sr. slova SHuta posle ispolneniya im satiricheskih
kupletov v "Korole Lire" (akt III, sc. 2): "This prophecy Merlin shall make;
for I live before his time." Merlin - mag pri dvore korolya Artura.

73. WHY SHOULD I CARE FOR THE MEN OF THAMES...
73. TEMZA I OGAJO

Odin iz rannih otklikov Blejka na Vojnu za nezavisimost' v Severnoj
Amerike 1775-1783 gg. Blejk vosprinyal ee kak nachalo osvobozhdeniya vsego
chelovechestva iz temnic sovremennogo Vavilona (sm. takzhe "Ameriku").
charter'd streams - sm. komment. k stihotvoreniyu "London"

80. LET THE BROTHELS OF PARIS BE OPENED...
80. DVERI NASTEZHX, PARIZHSKIE BORDELI!..

Stihotvorenie naveyano sobytiyami Francuzskoj revolyucii 1789 g.
Queen of France - Mariya-Antuanetta (1755-1793), kaznennaya vmeste s
Lyudovikom XVI. Ee opisanie parodiruet portret, sozdannyj |dmundom Berkom
(Edmund Burke, 1729-1797) v "Razmyshleniyah o revolyucii vo Francii"
{Reflections on the Revolution in France, 1790), gde nizvergnutaya koroleva
izobrazhena v pateticheskih tonah.
...old Nobodaddy - sm. komment. k stihotvoreniyu "Nich'emu otcu". V
dannom kontekste obraz priobretaet dopolnitel'nyj, konkretno-istoricheskij
smysl, poskol'ku starshij syn Lyudovika XVI skonchalsya v 1789 g., a mladshij,
otlichavshijsya slabym zdorov'em, s 1791 g. nahodilsya v zatochenii (umer v 1795
g.).
suckers - zd. rasteniya-parazity
Fayette - Markiz de Lafajet (1757-1834), francuzskij politicheskij
deyatel', odin iz generalov amerikanskoj armii v period Vojny za
nezavisimost' v Severnoj Amerike 1775-1783 gg. Po vozvrashchenii vo Franciyu
komandoval Nacional'noj gvardiej, ohranyavshej nizlozhennogo korolya. Byl
storonnikom Konstitucionnoj monarhii, za chto podvergalsya napadkam radikalov,
dobivavshihsya ego otstavki. Bezhal iz Francii i byl arestovan v Avstrii, gde
provel v zatochenii chetyre goda (1793-1797). Sm. takzhe poemu "Francuzskaya
revolyuciya".

1800-1803

81. MY SPECTRE AROUND ME NIGHT AND DAY...
81. SPEKTR I |MANACIYA

Perevod V. Toporova publikuetsya vpervye.
Spectre ... Emanation - Po opredeleniyu N. Fraya, "Blejk nazyvaet
Prizrakami abstraktnye idei i prezhde vsego Sebyalyubie. S etim ponyatiem
svyazano drugoe - |manaciya, t. e. celostnaya forma vseh veshchej, kotorye lyubit i
kotorye sozdaet chelovek" (N. Frye. Fearful Symmetry, 1947). Sr. takzhe
opredeleniya, kotorye dany etim ponyatiyam u A. Ostrajker: do grehopadeniya
Spektr i |manaciya sosushchestvuyut v odnom sushchestve, a v dal'nejshem zhenskoe
nachalo (|manaciya) priobretaet samostoyatel'noe sushchestvovanie. Prizrak, ili
Spektr, - eto chelovecheskij racio na toj stupeni, kogda svyaz' cheloveka i
Boga, a tem samym i celostnost' cheloveka uzhe utracheny. V poeme "Mil'ton"
chitaem: "Duh Otricaniya est' Spektr, ili zhe Racional'nye Sposobnosti
CHeloveka, i eto Pozolota, skryvayushchaya Bessmertnyj moj Duh, i eto Sebyalyubie,
kotoroe neobhodimo otrinut' i unichtozhit' naveki". Po simvolike Blejka,
chelovek, obrashchayushchij sebya v Spektr, nepolnocenen dazhe fizicheski - |manaciya
est' utrachennoe "zhenskoe" nachalo, ta duhovnost', kotoraya vosstanavlivaet
celostnost' lichnosti i v fizicheskom otnoshenii, poskol'ku Raj - eto
preodolenie ne tol'ko razlada mezhdu racional'nym i chuvstvennym, no i
razdeleniya CHeloveka na nachala muzhskoe i zhenskoe. Sm. takzhe komment. k
stihotvoreniyu "Stranstvie".
This the Wine, and this the Bread - ot Matfeya, 26, 26-28; ot Marka, 14,
22-24; ot Luki, 22, 19-20.
Privodim perevod V. Potapovoj:

Prizrak i |manaciya

Moj Prizrak den' i noch' teper'
Sledit za mnoj, kak hishchnyj zver',
A |manaciya - moj greh
Oplakivaet gorshe vseh.

V bezdonnoj glubine, v beskrajnej,
Bluzhdaem vtajne, plachem vtajne.
Pod vihrem, voyushchim v alchbe,
Kradetsya Prizrak moj k tebe -

Uznat', obnyuhivaya sneg,
Kuda napravish' ty svoj beg.
Skvoz' chastyj dozhd' i zimnij grad
Kogda vorotish'sya nazad?

V gordyne, ty zatmila burej
Blesk utrennej moej lazuri.
Noch', - s revnost'yu i nepriyazn'yu, -
Slezami kormish' i boyazn'yu.

Sem' raz lyubov' moyu srazil
Tvoj nozh, sem' mramornyh mogil
YA vozdvigal, s holodnym strahom,
I hmuro slezy lil nad prahom.

I sem' eshche ostalos' milyh:
Oni rydayut na mogilah.
I sem' lyubimyh, ne trevozha
Moj son, zhgut fakely u lozha.

Mne sem' vozlyublennyh, v posteli,
Na skorbnyj lob venok nadeli
Iz vinogradnyh loz i, v zhalosti,
Proshchayut vse grehi - do malosti!

Kogda, smeniv na milost' gnev,
Vernesh'sya - ozhivit' sem' dev?
Otvet', kogda vernesh'sya ty
Dlya vseproshchen'ya i dobroty?

"Ne vernus', - ne zhdi i vedaj:
YA goryu odnoj pobedoj!
ZHivoj, - mne byt' tvoeyu miloj,
A mertvoj, - byt' tvoej mogiloj!

Skvoz' nebo, zemlyu, raj i ad
Pomchus' vdogon - mne net pregrad!
Dni i nochi naprolet
Dlit'sya budet moj polet".

Moj dolg - izbavit'sya ot vlasti
Geennskoj roshchi, zhenskoj strasti,
Zatem chtob Vechnosti porog
Dostojno prestupit' ya mog.

Ne dam tebe nasmeshki mnozhit'!
Tebya ya dolzhen unichtozhit'
I, sotvoriv druguyu stat',
Slugu sud'by moej sozdat'.

Pokonchim oba, po uslov'yu,
S geennskoj roshchej i s lyubov'yu
I uzrim, vne ee igry,
Blazhennoj Vechnosti miry.

Nam zhit' - v proshchen'e oboyudnom.
Ne tak li v pouchen'e chudnom
Spasitelem izrecheno?
"Se hleb, - skazal on, - se vino".

82. WHEN KLOPSTOCK ENGLAND DEFIED...
82. KLOPSHTOK ANGLIYU HULIL, KAK HOTEL...

Nemeckij poet Fridrih Gotlib Klopshtok (1724-1803) v avgustovskom nomere
londonskogo The German Museum za 1800 g. sopostavlyal nemeckie i anglijskie
perevody Gomera, poricaya anglichan za "grubost' stiha" i pripisyvaya etot
nedostatok durnomu vliyaniyu Svifta. Stihi Blejka napisany v otvet na eti
obvineniya, chem i ob®yasnyaetsya vyzyvayushchaya, "sviftovskaya" prizemlennost' ih
leksiki. Perevod V. Toporova publikuetsya vpervye.
For old Nobodaddy aloft / ...and belch'd and cough'd - povtoreny stroki
iz stihotvoreniya "Dveri nastezh', parizhskie bordeli!"; Nobodaddy - sm.
komment. k stihotvoreniyu "Nich'emu otcu"
Lambeth - Lambet, rajon Londona, gde v 1791-1800 gg. zhil Blejk

83. MOCK ON, MOCK ON, VOLTAIRE, ROUSSEAU...
83. ZHIVEJ, VOLXTER! SMELEJ, RUSSO!..

V celom Blejk ob®ektivno ocenival rol' velikih francuzskih myslitelej,
schitaya, chto ih idei podgotovili sobytiya 1789 g. Odnako narastavshee
razocharovanie poeta vo Francuzskoj revolyucii vyzvalo neskol'ko gor'kih i
yazvitel'nyh stihotvorenij, vklyuchaya i eti stroki.
The Atoms of Democritus - soglasno ucheniyu grecheskogo filosofa Demokrita
(ok. 470 ili 460 do n. e. - umer v glubokoj starosti), kazhdaya veshch' v mire
sostoit iz mel'chajshih atomov, nahodyashchihsya v nepreryvnom dvizhenii
Newton's Particles - rech' idet o n'yutonovskom otkrytii semi osnovnyh
cvetov spektra

85. ON THE VIRGINITY OF THE VIRGIN MARY AND JOHANNA SOUTHCOTT
85. O DEVSTVENNOSTI DEVY MARII I DZHOANNY SAUSKOTT

Dzhoanna Sauskott (1750-1814) - polugramotnaya sluzhanka,
posledovatel'nica odnoj iz hiliasticheskih sekt. V 1813 g. ob®yavila, chto
nosit vo chreve vtorogo messiyu, i byla podvergnuta medicinskoj ekspertize.
God spustya umerla ot vodyanki.

86. MORNING
86. UTRO

...the Western path - u Blejka Zapad vsegda associiruetsya s duhovnym
vysvobozhdeniem
The war of swords and spears / Melted by dewy tears - obraz, donosyashchij
vpechatlenie ot usypannogo zvezdami nebosklona, simvola carstva Razuma,
kotoroe ischezaet s prihodom rassveta (sr. "Tigr": "When the stars threw down
their spears / And water'd heaven with their tears")

1808-1811

|pigrammy, v osnovnom preobladayushchie v etom razdele "Manuskripta
Rossetti", vyzvany ssoroj Blejka s izdatelem R. X. Kromekom i hudozhnikami,
rabotavshimi po ego zakazam, a takzhe neuspehom vystavki rabot Blejka v 1809
g. i ohlazhdeniem v otnosheniyah s Flaksmenom (sm. komment. k "Poeticheskim
nabroskam"), razdelyavshim, kak kazalos' Blejku, negativnuyu ocenku ego grafiki
i zhivopisi (sm. takzhe predislovie, s. 9, i hronologicheskuyu tablicu).

89. HERE LIES JOHN TROT, THE FRIEND OF ALL MANKIND...
89. NI ODNOGO VRAGA, VSEOBSHCHIJ DRUG, DZHON TROT...

Dzhon Trot - imya naricatel'noe, oboznachaet muzhlana

92. GROWN OLD IN LOVE...
92. VSYU ZHIZNX LYUBOVXYU PLAMENNOJ SGORAYA...

Predpolagaetsya, chto epigramma byla napisana v 1806 g., kogda Blejku
bylo 49 let.

93. ALL PICTURES THAT'S PANTED WITH SENSE AND WITH THOUGHT...
93. CHUVSTVA I MYSLI V KARTINE NASHEDSHIJ...

pant = paint; schitaetsya, chto Blejk parodiroval proiznoshenie R. X.
Kromeka
Fuseli - Genri Fyuzeli (1741-1825), hudozhnik, shvejcarec po
proishozhdeniyu; odin iz znachitel'nyh predstavitelej anglijskogo romantizma;
byl drugom Blejka i poklonnikom ego talanta
they can't see an outline - rech' idet o sposobe gravirovaniya. Blejk
priderzhivalsya starogo "konturnogo" metoda s chetkoj liniej risunka, v to
vremya kak v modu voshel "tochechnyj" metod s razmytymi konturami (sm. takzhe
komment. k stihotvoreniyu "Blejk v zashchitu svoego Kataloga").

94. WHY WAS CUPID A BOY...
94. KUPIDON

woman into a statue of stone - po vsej veroyatnosti, podrazumevaetsya
legenda o Pigmalione i Galatee

95. I ASKED MY DEAR FRIEND ORATOR PRIGG...
95. CHTO ORATORU NUZHNO...

panter - sm. komment. k stihotvoreniyu "CHuvstva i mysli v kartine
nashedshij..."

96. HAVING GIVEN GREAT OFFENCE BY WRITING IN PROSE...
96. BLEJK V ZASHCHITU SVOEGO KATALOGA

Imeetsya v vidu Katalog vystavki 1809 g. (sm. predislovie, s. 7).
as soft as Bartoloze - Franchesko Bartoloci (Bartolozzi, 1727-1815),
florentijskij graver, bol'shuyu chast' zhizni prozhivshij v Anglii; chlen
Korolevskoj akademii; populyariziroval metod "tochechnogo" gravirovaniya,
kotoryj blagodarya razmytosti konturov otlichalsya osobennoj myagkost'yu risunka
Dryden, in rime - V 1674 g. Dzhon Drajden (John Dryden, 1631-1700)
napisal rifmovannymi stihami libretto The State of Innocence no motivam
"Poteryannogo Raya", iskaziv duh i smysl mil'tonovskogo proizvedeniya. Blejk
otozvalsya ob etom opyte perelozheniya Mil'tona sleduyushchim obrazom: "Glupost'
otdast predpochtenie Drajdenu, poskol'ku on pishet v rifmu, monotonno
perezvyakivaya ot nachala do samogo konca".
Tom Cooke cut Hogarth down with his clean graving - Graver Tomas Kuk
(Cooke, 1744-1818) kopiroval raboty Hoggarta i prisposablival ih k tomu
stilyu, kotoryj byl moden vo vremena Blejka
Hayley - U. Hejli; sm. predislovie, s. 6, i hronologicheskuyu tablicu
Homer is ... improv'd by Pope - imeetsya v vidu perevod "Iliady" i
"Odissei", sdelannyj vedushchim poetom anglijskogo klassicizma Aleksandrom
Popom (1688-1744). Stih perevoda podchinen klassicisticheskim normam, otchego
postradal yazyk Gomera.
Stothard - Tomas Stothard (1755-1834;, hudozhnik, kotoromu Kromek otdal
zakaz na illyustracii k "Kenterberijskim rasskazam" CHosera, ranee obeshchannyj
Blejku
poor Schiavonetti died of the Cromek - Graver Luidzhi Sk'yavonetti
(1770-1812) umer vo vremya raboty nad gravyuroj s originala Stotharda.

99. I ROSE UP AT THE DAWN OF DAY...
99. YA VSTAL, KOGDA REDELA NOCHX...

the Throne of Mammon - mammon - po-aramejski "bogatstvo" (sr. Matfej,
6, 24; Luka, 16, 9-13); pozdnee v srednevekovyh knigah stalo upotreblyat'sya
kak imya sobstvennoe, oznachayushchee d'yavola

THE PICKERING MANUSCRIPT
MANUSKRIPT PIKERINGA

Tetrad' iz 11 listov, nahodivshayasya v 1868 g. vo vladenii izdatelya
Bezila Pikeringa. CHast' stihov iz nee poyavilas' v zhizneopisanii A.
Gilkrista. Stihotvoreniya iz etoj tetradi obychno datiruyutsya 1801-1803 gg.

100. THE SMILE
100. ULYBKA

Privodim perevod V. Toporova, publikuemyj vpervye:

Ulybka

Est' Ulybka lyubvi,
Est' Ulybka obmana
I est' Ulybka Ulybok -
V nej obe drugih sliyanny.

Est' pristal'nyj Vzor vrazhdy,
Est' pristal'nyj Vzor prezren'ya,
I est' etih Vzorov Vzor -
I nest' ot nego spasen'ya.

Ibo on prozhigaet mozg,
Ibo dushu on raz®edaet
I o prezhnih ulybkah vseh
Pamyat' v muskulah rta stiraet.

No edinozhdy za vsyu zhizn'
Est' Ulybka eshche sil'nee -
I bessil'no zemnoe Zlo,
Esli ty ulybnesh'sya eyu.

101. THE GOLDEN NET
101. ZLATAYA SETX

"Set'" v etom stihotvorenii imeet tot zhe smysl, chto i "kletka" v
stihotvorenii "Pesnya" iz "Poeticheskih nabroskov": nezrimye - ili
pozolochennye - okovy, kotorymi v zemnoj yudoli skovano Voobrazhenie.

102. THE MENTAL TRAVELLER
102. STRANSTVIE

Po mneniyu bol'shinstva issledovatelej, "ditya" v etom stihotvorenii - duh
Svobody, "staruha" - sovremennoe Blejku obshchestvo. Stihi predstavlyayut soboj
allegoriyu, izobrazhayushchuyu ternistyj i prichudlivyj put' Svobody cherez veka
istorii, kak predstavlyal sebe etot put' avtor. Svoboda oblagorazhivaet
obshchestvo. Odnako, vostorzhestvovav, Svoboda otricaet samoe sebya (motiv, po
vsej veroyatnosti, podskazannyj sobytiyami vo Francii); ZHizn' - vyshedshaya iz
ognya deva - progonyaet takuyu Svobodu (dryahlyj starec, ishchushchij podrugu v
zhertvy), no Zemlya (devochka, kotoraya okazyvaetsya v rukah starca) po-prezhnemu
zhazhdet Svobody, i teper' uzhe Zemlya oblagorazhivaet starca - tol'ko dlya togo,
chtoby ot etogo soyuza rodilsya Mladenec, t. e. vse tot zhe duh Svobody, i "vse,
kak skazano, opyat'".
Po drugim tolkovaniyam, "Stranstvie" - stihi o konechnoj bessmyslennosti
zhizni, poka ona ne dostigaet stadii Raya. V simvolike Blejka Vselennaya
predstavlena v processe prohozhdeniya cherez chetyre duhovnyh sostoyaniya. Raj
(Eden) - vysshee edinstvo Tvorca i ego tvoreniya; Porozhdenie (Generation) -
raspad organicheskoj svyazi mezhdu chelovekom i Bogom, chelovekom i drugimi
lyud'mi; Beula (Beulah) - hristianskij ideal vosstanovleniya etoj svyazi,
kotoryj dlya Blejka i pri uslovii ego osushchestvleniya ne oznachaet obretennogo
Raya, ibo Beula rassmatrivaetsya im tol'ko kak Limb; Ul'ro (Ulro) - mir
sovremennoj Blejku dejstvitel'nosti, Ad. Kazhdomu iz etih sostoyanij prisushcha
svoya dominiruyushchaya "emociya": Rayu - strast', Porozhdeniyu - intellekt, Beule -
miloserdie i lyubov', Ul'ro - zhelanie i instinkt. V "Stranstvii" soderzhitsya
prizyv k radikal'nomu osvobozhdeniyu Poeticheskogo Geniya, tayashchegosya v cheloveke
i edinstvenno sposobnogo otkryt' chelovechestvu takie puti duhovnoj zhizni,
kotorye sdelayut vozmozhnym istinnyj ee progress, a ne mehanicheskoe kruzhenie
na meste. Pomimo evangel'skih motivov, v stihotvorenii obnaruzhivayutsya
otgoloski mifa o Prometee i sozdannogo Blejkom mifa o Lose (sm. komment. na
s. 498).
Just as we reap in joy the fruit / Which we in bitter tears did sow -
biblejskaya reminiscenciya: "They that sow in tears shall reap in joy"
{Psalms, 126, 5)

105. THE CRYSTAL CABINET
105. HRUSTALXNAYA SHKATULKA

Pereklikaetsya so stihotvoreniem "Pesnya" iz "Poeticheskih nabroskov". V
simvolicheskom plane stihotvoreniya izobrazheno sostoyanie Beuly (sm. vyshe), dlya
kotorogo harakterno triedinstvo tela, intellekta i strasti, odnako chetvertyj
komponent celostnogo cheloveka - duh - eshche otsutstvuet. Poetomu otnosheniya
mezhdu lyubyashchimi pererastayut v konfliktnuyu situaciyu: oba stremyatsya podchinit'
drugogo svoej vole - podlinnyj soyuz nevozmozhen.
Perevod V. Toporova publikuetsya vpervye. Privodim perevod S. Marshaka:

Hrustal'nyj chertog

Na vol'noj vole ya bluzhdal
I yunoj devoj vzyat byl v plen.
Ona vvela menya v chertog
Iz chetyreh hrustal'nyh sten.

CHertog svetilsya, a vnutri
YA v nem uvidel mir inoj:
Byla tam malen'kaya noch'
S chudesnoj malen'koj lunoj.

Inaya Angliya byla,
Eshche nevedomaya mne, -
I novyj London nad rekoj,
I novyj Tauer v vyshine.

Ne ta uzh devushka so mnoj,
A vsya prozrachnaya, v luchah.
Ih bylo tri - odna v drugoj.
O sladkij, neponyatnyj strah!

Ee ulybkoyu trojnoj
YA byl, kak solncem, osveshchen.
I moj blazhennyj poceluj
Byl troekratno vozvrashchen.

YA k sokrovennejshej iz treh
Proster ob®yat'ya - k nej odnoj.
I vdrug raspalsya moj chertog.
Rebenok plachet predo mnoj.

Lezhit on na zemle, a mat'
V slezah sklonyaetsya nad nim.
I, vozvrashchayas' v mir opyat',
YA plachu, gorest'yu tomim.

Surrey Dower - Vo vremena Blejka territoriya grafstva Serrej,
slavyashchegosya parkami i lesami, vklyuchala londonskij rajon Lambet, gde poet zhil
v 1791-1800 gg.
a weeping Babe - sr. simvoliku "Stranstviya"

107. AUGURIES OF INNOCENCE
107. IZRECHENIYA NEVINNOSTI

Po forme eto proizvedenie Blejka napominaet nazidatel'nye poemy
Kristofera Smarta (Ch. Smart, 1722-1771) "Pesn' Davidu" (A Song to David,
1763) Jubilitate Agno, v kotoryh raznoobraznye yavleniya okruzhayushchego mira
sopostavlyayutsya s temi ili inymi biblejskimi obrazami ili citiruemymi stihami
iz Evangeliya. Perevod V. Toporova publikuetsya vpervye. Vstupitel'noe
chetverostishie schitaetsya odnoj iz aforisticheskih formulirovok sushchnosti
romantizma.
Privodim ego v perevode S. Marshaka:

V odnom mgnoven'e videt' vechnost',
Ogromnyj mir - v zerne peska,
V edinoj gorsti - beskonechnost'
I nebo - v chashechke cvetka.

The game-cock dipt - petushinye boi byli oficial'no zapreshcheny v Anglii v
1849 g. chafer = dark beetle

108. LONG JOHN BROWN AND LITTLE MARY BELL
108. DLINNYJ DZHON BRAUN I MALYUTKA M|RI BELL

Otdel'nye issledovateli, osnovyvayas' na syuzhetnom shodstve, usmatrivayut
v stihotvorenii pereklichku s desyatoj novelloj tret'ego dnya "Dekamerona".

109. WILLIAM BOND
109. VILXYAM BOND

Then what have I to do with thee - sm. komment. k stihotvoreniyu "K
Tirze" ("Pesni Poznaniya")

THE BOOK OF THEL
KNIGA T|LX

Napisana i otpechatana v 1789 g., sohranilas' v 15 ekzemplyarah. Naryadu s
"Tirielem" samaya rannyaya iz "prorocheskih knig". Svidetel'stvuet o vliyanii
Mil'tona, v chastnosti, "Komusa", "maski", rasskazyvayushchej o Deve, kotoraya
zabludilas' v lesu, gde ona povstrechala zlogo maga. Brat'ya, obrativshis' k
nimfe Sabrine, spasayut sestru ot Komusa. Podobno geroine Mil'tona, Tel' -
chistaya dusha, kotoraya vpervye soprikasaetsya s mirom Poznaniya i v uzhase bezhit
ot nego. Odni kommentatory interpretiruyut simvoliku "Knigi Tel'"
preimushchestvenno v fiziologicheskom plane (liliya - nevinnost' geroini, oblako
- plodotvoryashchee nachalo, glina - materinstvo), drugie schitayut, chto Tel' -
simvol fantazii, posetivshej real'nyj mir i pospeshivshej ukryt'sya v doline
Gara; vozmozhny i paralleli s atnichnym mifom o Prozerpine.
Thel - dr.-grech. "zhelanie", "volya"; sm. komment. k stihotvoreniyu
"Zabludshaya doch'" iz "Pesen Poznaniya"
Seraphim - tolkuetsya po-raznomu; v chastnosti, ukazyvaetsya, chto v
sochineniyah filosofa-alhimika Korneliya Agrippy (1486-1535) ponyatie "synov'ya
Serafima" oznachaet lyudej, ch'i sem'i osobenno mnogochislenny, a stada prinosyat
samoe bol'shoe potomstvo. V takom sluchae rech' idet ob otkaze Tel' sluzhit'
prostym instrumentom prodolzheniya roda.
the river of Adona - veroyatno, reka Adonis, upomyanutaya Mil'tonom v
"Poteryannom Rae" pri opisanii ritualov plodorodiya
the voice / Of Him that walketh - cp. Genesis, 3, 8: "And they heard
the voice of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day"
the vales of Har - carstvo neporochnoj lyubvi. V mifologii Blejka - Gar i
Heva (Heva) - praroditeli chelovechestva.
Luvah = Luva; zd. simvol |rosa. Pozdnee v mifologii Blejka - Knyaz'
lyubvi, vedushchij bor'bu s Urizenom za chelovecheskuyu dushu.
Worm - sm. komment. k stihotvoreniyu "Bol'naya roza" iz "Pesen Poznaniya"
to her own grave-plot - t. e. v temnicu sobstvennogo fizicheskogo
sushchestvovaniya
and there she sat down - sr. Psalms, 137, I: "By the rivers of Babylon,
there we sat down, yea, we wept..."

THE MARRIAGE OF HEAVEN AND HELL
BRAKOSOCHETANIE RAYA I ADA

Datiruetsya primerno 1790 g. "Pesn' Svobody" dobavlena pozdnee, v
1792-1793 gg. Poema predstavlyaet soboj filosofskij disput, poroj otkrytuyu
polemiku so shvedskim teologom |mmanuilom Svedenborgom (1688-1722; sm.
predislovie, s. 12-13). V 1789 g. Blejk prisutstvoval na sobranii londonskih
svedenborgiancev, eto moglo posluzhit' povodom k sozdaniyu poemy. V 80-e gg.
on chital ryad trudov Svedenborga, vpervye togda perevedennyh na anglijskij
yazyk (sohranilis' marginalii Blejka na ekzemplyare knigi Svedenborga
"Mudrost' angelov"). Poema soderzhit pervoe posledovatel'noe izlozhenie idej
samogo Blejka i kritiku sovremennyh emu social'nyh i religioznyh institutov.
Vstuplenie k poeme schitaetsya samym rannim obrazcom svobodnogo stiha v
anglijskoj poezii.
Rintrah - Rintra, odin iz synovej Losa (sm. komment. na s. 498),
prorok, olicetvoryayushchij gnev, kotoryj ohvatyvaet Voobrazhenie pri vzglyade na
porochnyj mir
swag = sag, sway
Where lions roam - sr. s istoriyami prorokov Isaji (24) i Iezekiilya (5 i
32), vozglashayushchih istinu v pustyne
As a new heaven is begun, and it is now thirty-three years since its
advent... - imeetsya v vidu 1757 g., god rozhdeniya Blejka, kogda v Londone
byla uchrezhdena svedenborgianskaya "Novaya cerkov'". Soglasno Svedenborgu,
Strashnyj sud nachnetsya v 1757 godu. K momentu sozdaniya poemy Blejku 33 goda,
t. e. stol'ko, skol'ko, po obshcherasprostranennomu togda mneniyu, bylo Hristu k
momentu raspyatiya
the dominion of Edom - strana Isava, starshego syna Isaaka, lishennogo
prav pervorodstva hitroumiem mladshego svoego brata Iakova. Isaak skazal emu:
"Vot, ot tuka zemli budet obitanie tvoe, i ot rosy nebesnoj svyshe" (Bytie,
27^39-40)
Isiah XXXIV and XXXV chap. - v etih glavah Knigi Proroka Isaji
govoritsya ob otmshchen'e Bozh'em vsem narodam i o vozvrashchenii Tvorca, kogda
vozraduetsya besplodnaya zemlya
Good is Heaven. Evil is Hell. - sr. marginalii Blejka na polyah
sochineniya Svedenborga "Mudrost' angelov": "Heaven and Hell are born
together."
The Governor of Reason is call'd Messiah - v "Poteryannom Rae" Mil'tona
Syn Bozhij nizvergaet Satanu, izgnav ego iz rajskih kushch, i sudit Adama i Evu
za ih greh
Milton's Messiah is called Satan - Blejk imel v vidu tu karayushchuyu rol',
kotoruyu vypolnyaet Syn Bozhij u Mil'tona, podobno Satane v Knige Iova
This is shown in the Gospel - sm. ot Ioanna, 14, 16-17, 26
Proverbs of Hell - pomimo Psaltiri (Book of Proverbs) odnim iz
proizvedenij, opredelivshih vybor takoj formy, schitayutsya horosho izvestnye
Blejku "Aforizmy" (1788) I. K. Lafatera (1741-1801)
this firm persuasion removed mountains - sr. slova Iisusa: "Esli vy
budete imet' veru s gorchichnoe zerno i skazhete gore sej: "perejdi otsyuda
tuda", i ona perejdet" (ot Matfeya, 17, 20)
our great poet, King David - Davidu pripisyvaetsya avtorstvo biblejskih
psalmov
I also asked Isaiah what made him go naked and barefoot three years -
sr. Isajya, 20
I then asked Ezekiel why he ate dung... - sr. Iezekiil', 4
the cherub with his flaming sword - posle izgnaniya Adama Bog "postavil
na vostoke u sada Edemskogo Heruvima i plamennyj mech obrashchayushchijsya, chtoby
ohranyat' put' k derevu zhizni" (Bytie, 3, 24)
the doors of perception - imeyutsya v vidu pyat' organov chuvstv
...chinks of his cavern - obraz voshodit k dialogu Platona
("Respublika", VII)
...Parable of sheep and goats! - sm. ot Matfeya, 25, 32-33; 10, 34
...between saturn and the fixed stars - v dokopernikovoj astronomii
Saturn rassmatrivalsya kak predel'naya nebesnaya sfera
Paracelsus - Paracel's (1493-1541), shvejcarskij vrach i
estestvoispytatel'; byl izvesten i kak alhimik i ereticheskij teolog
Jacob Rehmen - YAkob Beme (1575-1624), nemeckij filosof i teolog (sm.
takzhe predislovie, s. 20)
...Did He not mock at the sabbath - sm. ot Marka, 2, 27; ot Ioanna,
8-22; 11; ot Matfeya, 27, 13-14; motiv razvit Blejkom v "Vechnosushchem
evangelii" {The Everlasting Gospel, s. 1818)
Jesus was all virtue - v dannom sluchae "virtue" upotrebleno v
specificheskom znachenii, vydelyayushchem latinskij koren' "vir" - "muzh"
A Song of Liberty - naveyano vzyatiem Bastilii (1789) i popytkami
evropejskih monarhij zadushit' Francuzskuyu revolyuciyu. V chastnosti, zdes'
nashla otrazhenie neudavshayasya intervenciya vo Franciyu v sentyabre 1792 g.,
predshestvovavshaya vojne, kotoruyu Angliya ob®yavila Francuzskoj respublike v
fevrale 1793 g.
Po Blejku, Revolyuciya - ditya Prirody; Tiraniya pytaetsya udushit' Mladenca,
odnako na ego zashchitu vstaet CHelovechestvo, i Tiraniya vynuzhdena vremenno
otstupit'.
dungeon - Bastiliya
thy keys - klyuchi tradicionno sluzhili u pap simvolom vlasti
starry king - Urizen. O znachenii simvoliki zvezd u Blejka sm. komment.
k stihotvoreniyu "Vstuplenie" ("Pesni Poznaniya").
the hoary element - morskie vody
Urthona's dens - Urtona, v mifologii Blejka, olicetvorenie instinkta,
intuicii; predstaet v vide kuzneca, obitayushchego v provalah i peshcherah

VISIONS OF THE DAUGHTERS OF ALBION
VIDENIYA DSHCHEREJ ALXBIONA

Poema nagravirovana v 1793 g., sohranilas' v 17 ekzemplyarah (odin - v
svyazke s "Knigoj Tel'"). Zaglavie na titul'nom liste: "Visions of the
Daughters of Albion. The Eye sees more than the Heart knows. Printed by
Willm Blake. 1793."
Poema tematicheski svyazana s "Knigoj Tel'": esli Tel' obitaet v carstve
Nevedeniya, to Utuna (predpolagaetsya, chto ej byla posvyashchena nesohranivshayasya
otdel'naya poema Blejka) okazyvaetsya uzhe v carstve Poznaniya, i poemu v celom
mozhno rassmatrivat' kak rezkuyu kritiku principov, na kotoryh osnovyvalis' v
anglijskom obshchestve toj pory semejnye otnosheniya. Blejk obrushivaetsya i na
takie yavleniya sovremennoj emu dejstvitel'nosti, kak rabotorgovlya,
ekspluataciya detskogo truda, politicheskaya tiraniya, religioznaya neterpimost',
- vse eto dlya nego Rabstvo, protivostoyashchee Svobode. Syuzhet poemy nezatejliv:
Utuna (doch' Losa i |nitarmon, yavlyayushchejsya zhenskim nachalom Vechnogo proroka)
lyubit Teotormona (on poyavlyaetsya i v drugih blejkovskih proizvedeniyah -
inogda kak odin iz synovej Losa, olicetvoryaya ostorozhnost', samokontrol'
hudozhnika, inogda kak personazh gamletovskogo tipa), odnako podvergaetsya
nasiliyu so storony Bromiona (ot grech. βρόμιος - "rev"; zd. simvol
gruboj, bezduhovnoj sily; v drugih "prorocheskih knigah" - odin iz synovej
Losa). |to ne pokolebalo chuvstva Utony k Teotormonu, odnako ona ne vstrechaet
otvetnogo chuvstva.
Leutha - Leuta, doch' Losa i |nitarmon, emanaciya Bromiona, nadelennaya
chertami, s obydennoj tochki zreniya, govoryashchimi o grehovnosti
Stamp'd with my signet - t. e. klejmenaya napodobie rabov
Theotormon's Eagles - otgolosok mifa o Prometee, prikovannom k skale;
poslannyj Zevsom orel priletal klevat' ego pechen'
The Father of Jealousy - Urizen
one Law for both the lion and the ox? - sr. zaklyuchitel'nye stroki
"Brakosochetanie Raya i Ada"

THE FRENCH REVOLUTION
FRANCUZSKAYA REVOLYUCIYA

Sohranilas' v vide granok nesostoyavshegosya izdaniya. Na titul'nom liste
nabrano: "The French Revolution. A Poem in Seven Books. Book the First.
London. Printed for J. Johnson. N 72. St. Paul's Church-yard, MDCCXCI."
V preduvedomlenii izdatelya govorilos', chto "ostal'nye chasti
proizvedeniya zaversheny i budut napechatany v sootvetstvuyushchem poryadke", odnako
napisal li Blejk drugie glavy, pomimo pervoj, ostaetsya neizvestnym.
Syuzhet poemy opredelyaetsya vydayushchimsya sobytiem - padeniem Bastilii 14
iyulya 1789 g. V poeme otrazilas' hronika revolyucionnogo 1789 g. vo Francii,
hotya, konechno, mnogoe izmeneno i dopolneno voobrazheniem Blejka. Stih -
svobodnyj semistopnyj anapest - primenen Blejkom tol'ko v etoj poeme.
Perevod V. Toporova publikuetsya vpervye.
the Prince - Lyudovik XVI (1754-1793)
Necker - ZHak Nekker (1732-1804), shvejcarec, ministr finansov pri
Lyudovike XVI v 1777-1781 i 1788-1790 gg. Sochuvstvoval oppozicii. Sygral
znachitel'nuyu rol' v podgotovke General'nyh SHtatov 1789 g.
...five thousand years -Dohristianskoe pover'e, sohranivsheesya sredi
sektantov, utverzhdalo, chto mir byl sotvoren v 4004 g. do n. e. i
prosushchestvuet rovno 6000 let. Takim obrazom, v 1804 g. dolzhen byl proizojti
Strashnyj sud. Krome togo, po mysli Blejka, na zemle pyat' tysyacheletij
gospodstvovala monarhiya, kotoruyu teper' smenyaet respublika.
Forty men - imeetsya v vidu Korolevskij sovet
the Commons - Blejk nazyvaet tak predstavitelej tret'ego sosloviya,
sobiravshihsya v mae i iyune 1789 g. v Versale
in the Louvre - na samom dele storonniki korolya sobiralis' ne v Luvre,
a v Versale
Hide from the living - sr. Otkrovenie Ioanna Bogoslova, 6, 15-16
Duke of Burgundy - v dejstvitel'nosti poslednij gercog Burgundskij umer
v 1714 g.
Atlantic mountains = Atlantean Hills, sm. komment. k "Amerike"
starry hosts - sm. komment. na s. 535
Fayette - Lafajet (sm. komment. k stihotvoreniyu "Dveri nastezh',
parizhskie bordeli!"). V dejstvitel'nosti Lafajet komandoval gvardiej s 15
iyulya 1789 g.
Necker... leave the kingdom - Nekker kak liberal byl otstranen korolem
ot dolzhnosti 11 iyulya 1789 g.
the Archbishop - sr. Iov, 4, 17: "CHelovek pravednee li Boga? i muzh chishche
li Tvorca svoego?"
Aumont - Gercog Omon (1723-1799) otkazalsya ot komandovaniya gvardiej
nakanune 14 iyulya
Abbe de Sieyes - abbat |mannyuel' ZHozef Sijes (1748-1836), odin iz
deyatelej Velikoj francuzskoj revolyucii, kotorogo Blejk nazyval "golosom
naroda"
King Henry the Fourth - Genrih IV (1553-1610), francuzskij korol',
pol'zovavshijsya lyubov'yu poddanyh; Blejk sravnivaet ego s abbatom Sijesom
Bourbon ... Duke of Bretagne... Earl of Bourgogne - vymyshlennye
personazhi.
Orleans - Gercog Orleanskij (1747-1793) zavoeval populyarnost'
pozhertvovaniyami v golodnye gody. SHturmuyushchie Bastiliyu nesli v svoih kolonnah
skul'pturnye izobrazheniya gercoga, a takzhe Nekkera.
instead of words harsh hissings - sm. "Poteryannyj Raj", X, 517-519
Mirabeau ... Target ... Bailly ... Clermont - lidery politicheskih
gruppirovok v Uchreditel'nom sobranii: Onore Gabriel' Riketi Mirabo
(1749-1791), mer Parizha ZHan Sil'ven Baji (1736-1793), graf Stanislav de
Klermon-Taner (1757-1792) i, vidimo, ZHak Gijom Ture (1746-1794)
...Great Henry's soul - imeetsya v vidu Genrih IV (sm. vyshe)
...nor a soldier be seen - v dejstvitel'nosti s trebovaniem raspustit'
korolevskuyu gvardiyu vystupil ne Sijes, a Mirabo (8 iyulya 1789 g.)
black southern Prison - vidimo, Sen-ZHermenskoe abbatstvo, sluzhivshee
tyur'moj; bylo vzyato shturmom 29 iyunya, pri etom osvobozhdeny 11 uznikov
the General of the Nation - Lafajet; sm. komment. k stihotvoreniyu
"Dveri nastezh', parizhskie bordeli!"
...ten miles from Paris - vymyshlennyj epizod

AMERICA
AMERIKA

Poema otpechatana Blejkom v 1793 g., sohranilos' 15 ekzemplyarov.
Na titul'nom liste znachitsya: "America. A Prophecy. Lambeth. Printed by
William Blake in the year 1793."
Poema soderzhit upominaniya o vazhnejshih sobytiyah amerikanskoj revolyucii i
Vojny za nezavisimost' 1775-1783 gg., istolkovannyh mifologicheski. Bor'ba
Angela Al'biona i Orka - gneta i vol'nosti - stanet odnim iz postoyannyh
"syuzhetov" v "prorocheskih knigah" Blejka. Ork, poyavlyayushchijsya iz tolshchi vod
Atlantiki, brosaet vyzov Angelu Al'biona, prizyvaya k osvobozhdeniyu
chelovechestva. Nachavsheesya vosstanie trinadcati kolonij Novogo Sveta Angel
Al'biona pytaetsya podavit', nasylaya chumu, kotoraya, odnako, porazhaet samoe
Angliyu. Vmeshatel'stvom Urizena revolyuciya otsrochena na dvenadcat' let, no ee
ogon' ne ugas - po istechenii etogo sroka on vspyhnet vnov' vo Francii i
ohvatit vsyu Evropu.
Perevod V. Toporova publikuetsya vpervye.
The shadowy Daughter of Urthona - sr. v "Evrope" Shadowy Female: Urtona
- sm. komment. na s. 547; doch' Urtony - simvol Prirody posle grehopadeniya.
Nasilie Orka nad docher'yu Urtony znamenuet nachalo revolyucionnoj vojny.
...an eagle ... a lion ... a whale ... a serpent - simvoly svobody na
znamenah nacional'no-osvoboditel'nyh dvizhenij v Severnoj i YUzhnoj Amerike
Washington ... Greene - lidery amerikanskoj revolyucii, ee ideologi i
polkovodcy vo vremya Vojny za nezavisimost': Dzhordzh Vashington (1732-1799),
Bendzhamin Franklin (17061790), Tomas Pejn (1737-1809), Dzhozef Uorren
(1741-1775), Goracio Gejts (17287-1806), Dzhon Henkok (1737-1793), Neteniel
Grin (1742-1786).
The morning comes... - zdes' i dalee Blejk govorit ob osnovnyh
principah amerikanskoj "Deklaracii nezavisimosti", provozglasivshej pravo
cheloveka na zhizn', svobodu i schast'e
Lion and Wolf - emblemy britanskogo mogushchestva
Ore ... serpent-form'd - Ork predstaet simvolom bunta, podobno
biblejskomu Satane ili Zmiyu na kanadskom styage
Enitharmon - sm. komment. k "Videniyam dshcherej Al'biona"
Thirteen Angels - Anglijskie vlastiteli trinadcati kolonij v Novom
Svete
Atlantean hills = Atlantic mountains - po Blejku, ideal'noe mificheskoe
gosudarstvo Atlantida (edinstvo Anglii i Ameriki), kotoroe palo iz-za
kolonialistskih ustremlenij Anglii; okean - simvol ih segodnyashnej
raz®edinennosti
Ariston - Ariston, v istorii Gerodota - spartanskij car', pohitivshij
nevestu u druga. V mificheskoj blejkovskoj Atlantide - car' krasoty.
Bostons Angel - Boston byl centrom revolyucionno-osvoboditel'nyh idej,
vyzrevavshih v koloniyah
Bernards house - ser Frensis Bernard, gubernator Massachusetsa v
1760-1769 gg.; epizod vymyshlennyj
The Bard of Albion - imeetsya v vidu poet-laureat Uajthed (William
Whitehead, 1715-1785), voshvalyavshij britanskuyu kolonial'nuyu politiku
Allen ... and Lee - Iten Allen (1738-1789), soldat, geroj Vojny za
nezavisimost', i CHarlz Li (1731-1782), general v armii Vashingtona
the Pestilence began - Blejk imeet v vidu besporyadki v Bristole i
Londone, vyzvannye vojnoj v amerikanskih koloniyah, a takzhe chastye sluchai
dezertirstva iz anglijskih vojsk i nachinavshuyusya v te gody dushevnuyu bolezn'
korolya Geroga III
a wine... the tender grape - sr. Pesn' Pesnej, 2,13
twelve years - s 1777 g. (razgar revolyucii v Amerike) po 1789 g.
(vzyatie Bastilii)
the five gates - pyat' organov chuvstv

EUROPE
EVROPA

Poema otpechatana v 1794 g., sohranilas' v 12 ekzemplyarah. Na titul'nom
liste: "Europe. A Prophecy. Lambeth. Printed by Willm Blake, 1794."
"Evropa" tematicheski svyazana s "Amerikoj". Izobrazhennyj v poeme son
|nitarmon (sm. komment. k "Videniyam dshcherej Al'biona") povestvuet o
vosemnadcati vekah rabstva ot Rozhdestva Hristova do Francuzskoj revolyucii.
Vopreki usiliyam Anglii otsrochit' rassvet, on nachalsya so vzyatiem Bastilii.
Perevod V. Toporova publikuetsya vpervye.
Five windows - pyat' chuvstv
The nameless Shadowy Female - Priroda, kotoraya v posleduyushchem monologe
setuet na to, chto ee sily tratyatsya vpustuyu: sozdavaya zhizn', ona ne mozhet ee
osvobodit' dlya duhovnogo velichiya. Sm. takzhe komment. k "Amerike".
Los, possessor of the Moon -: Obychno u Blejka Los vystupaet bogom
Solnca, |nitarmon - boginej Luny
Urthona - sm. komment. k "Brakosochetaniyu Raya i Ada"
Arise, O Ore - Ork za neposlushanie roditel'skoj vole prikovan, podobno
Prometeyu, k skale v peshchere
That Woman ... may have dominion - |nitarmon mechtaet o vlasti cerkvi,
tesnyashchej duh istinnogo hristianstva. Cerkov' associiruetsya s kul'tom
devstvennosti i podavleniem svobodnogo |rosa.
Rintrah - sm. komment. k "Brakosochetaniyu Raya i Ada"
Palamabron - Palamabron, syn Losa i |nitarmon, simvol hudozhnika,
sostradayushchego chelovechestvu
Elynittria - doch' Losa i |nitarmon, emanaciya Palamabrona (sm. vyshe)
Ocalythron - doch' Losa i |nitarmon, emanaciya Rintry (sm. vyshe)
the council-house - parlament
his ancient temple, serpent-form'd ... Verulam - rech' idet o
druidicheskoj religii drevnih brittov
...deluge - biblejskij potop pod perom Blejka priobretaet osobyj smysl,
simvoliziruya krah istinnoj very pod natiskom materializma
God a tyrant crown'd - soglasno interpretacii Blejka, druidicheskaya
religiya znamenovala tu zhe ogranichennost' i prevratnost' verovanij, chto i
racionalizm XVIII v.
Stone of Night ... attractive North - Sever u Blejka znamenuet holodnuyu
racional'nost', YUg - teplo i lyubov'
Palamabron shot ... / And Rintrah hung - soglasno novejshim tolkovaniyam,
synov'ya Losa zdes' upodobleny Uil'yamu Pittumladshemu (1759-1806) i |dmundu
Berku (1729-1797), politicheskim lideram Anglii toj pory
A mighty Spirit ... / Nam'd Newton - sm. komment. k stiham iz "Ostrova
na Lune"
Ethinthus - |tinta, doch' Losa i |nitarmon, boginya Luny
Manatha-Varcyon - suprug |tinty
Leutha - sm. komment. k "Videniyam dshcherej Al'biona"
Antamon - Antamon, syn Losa i |nitarmon, simvol romanticheskih
ustremlenij yunosti
Oothoon - sm. komment. k "Videniyam dshcherej Al'biona"
Theotormon - sm. komment. k "Videniyam dshcherej Al'biona"
Sotha - Sota, syn Losa i |nitarmon, olicetvorenie |rosa, inogda - bog
vojny
Thiralatha - emanaciya Soty
Then Los arose - zd. Los vystupaet v svoej obychnoj funkcii Vechnogo
proroka i boga Solnca

FROM "MILTON"
IZ PO|MY "MILXTON"

Poema otpechatana v 1809 g. (nachata v 1804 g.); sohranilos' 4
ekzemplyara. Na titul'nom liste znachitsya: "Milton. A Poem in two books. The
Author and Painter William Blake, 1804. To Justify the Ways of God to Men."
"Mil'ton" yavlyaetsya naibolee slozhnoj po simvolike "prorocheskoj knigoj"
Blejka. S. Marshakom perevedena stihotvornaya chast' vstupleniya k poeme,
stavshaya v XIX v. narodnoj pesnej, chasto ispolnyavshejsya na rabochih mitingah, a
takzhe fragment iz vtoroj chasti (s vypuskom odnoj stroki, tak chto obrazuyutsya
kak by dva samostoyatel'nyh stihotvoreniya). V celom "Mil'ton" predstavlyaet
soboj apofeoz bor'by Blejka s mehanisticheskim, "urizenovskim"
miroponimaniem. Mil'ton prizvan sbrosit' "urizenovo yarmo" i osvobodit'
Al'bion. Po Blejku, on terpit porazhenie v etoj bor'be ne tol'ko iz-za
neravenstva sil, no i potomu, chto sam Mil'ton ostaetsya v plenu lozhnogo,
cerkovno-teologicheskogo soznaniya.
Jerusalem - sm. predislovie, s. 21
Og & Anak - v Biblii - giganty, poverzhennye Izrailem, u Blejka - simvol
mnimoj moshchi i ugrozy

A. Zverev

DATY ZHIZNI I TVORCHESTVA BLEJKA

1757, 28 noyabrya - V sem'e Dzhejmsa i Ketrin Blejkov rodilsya syn Uil'yam.
1767 - Nachinaet poseshchat' shkolu risovaniya na Strende.
1771 - Stanovitsya uchenikom gravera Dzhejmsa Bezajra.
1776-1777 - Zavershena kniga "Poeticheskie nabroski",
1779 - Nachalo professional'noj raboty v kachestve gravera u Dzhozefa
Dzhonsona i drugih izdatelej i knigotorgovcev.
1780 - Znakomstvo s graverom Genri Fyuzeli, stavshim odnim iz blizhajshih
druzej Blejka. Neskol'ko risunkov vystavleno v Korolevskoj akademii.
1782 - ZHenit'ba na docheri zelenshchika Ketrin Sofii Vaucher. Znakomstvo s
hudozhnikom Dzhonom Flaksmenom, kotoryj vvodit Blejka v salon Genri Met'yu.
1783 - Napechatan sbornik "Poeticheskie nabroski".
1784 - Sovmestno s graverom Dzhejmsom Parkerom otkryvaet sobstvennuyu
pechatnyu na Broud-strit. Tri goda spustya pechatnya prodana iz-za ugrozy
bankrotstva. Napisan "Ostrov na Lune", predstavlyayushchij soboj satiru na G.
Met'yu i posetitelej ego salona.
1788-1789 - Pervye izdaniya, nagravirovannye sposobom "illyuminovannoj
pechati" (aforizmy o "estestvennoj religii", soderzhashchie kratkoe izlozhenie
osnovnyh idej Blejka). CHtenie Svedenborga ("Mudrost' angelov"). Napisana
samaya rannyaya iz "prorocheskih knig" "Tiriel'".
1789 - "Kniga Tel'". "Pesni Nevedeniya". Pervye stihotvoreniya tak naz.
"Manuskripta Rossetti".
1790 - "Brakosochetanie Raya i Ada".
1791 - "Francuzskaya revolyuciya". Rukopis' nabrana v tipografii Dzh.
Dzhonsona i rassypana vvidu gonenij na vol'nodumcev i druzej revolyucionnoj
Francii. "Videniya dshcherej Al'biona". "Amerika". Znakomstvo s Tomasom Battsom,
ministerskim chinovnikom, okazyvavshim Blejku podderzhku i material'nuyu pomoshch'
do konca ego zhizni.
1794 - "Pesni Poznaniya". "Evropa". "Pervaya kniga Urizena".
1795 - "Kniga Losa". "Kniga Ahanii".
1796 - Illyustracii k "Nochnym myslyam" |duarda YUnga.
1797-1799 - Iz-za otsutstviya novyh zakazov Blejk okazyvaetsya na krayu
nishchety.
1800-1803 - Znakomstvo s Uil'yamom Hejli, prebyvanie v Felpheme
(Susseks).
1803, sentyabr' - Vozvrashchenie v London.
1805 - Illyustracii k poeme "Mogila" |. Blera. Izdatel' R. X. Kromek
priobretaet ih za nichtozhno maluyu cenu.
1807-1808 - Illyustracii k "Poteryannomu Rayu" Dzhona Mil'tona.
1808-1809 - Nagravirovan "Mil'ton" ("prorocheskaya kniga", nachataya
primerno v 1804 g.).
1809, maj-sentyabr' - Vystavka rabot Blejka v galanterejnoj lavke ego
brata Dzhejmsa.
1810 - Illyustracii k "Kenterberijskim rasskazam" Dzhefri CHosera.
1811-1817 - Tak naz. "temnyj period" biografii Blejka, otnositel'no
kotorogo pochti ne sohranilos' faktov i svidetel'stv.
1818 - Znakomstvo s Dzhonom Linnelom i molodymi hudozhnikami ego kruga,
preklonyavshimisya pered Blejkom.
1820 - Nagravirovan "Ierusalim" ("prorocheskaya kniga", nachataya primerno
v 1804 g.).
1821 - Po zakazu T. Battsa vypolneny illyustracii k "Knige Iova"
(akvareli).
1822 - Pooshchritel'naya premiya Korolevskoj akademii (25 funtov
sterlingov).
1825 - Nagravirovany illyustracii k "Knige Iova" (otpechatany v marte
1826 g.).
1825-1826 - Po zakazu Dzh. Linnela vypolneny illyustracii k "Bozhestvennoj
komedii" Dante.
1827, 12 avgusta - Smert' Uil'yama Blejka. Ketrin Blejk umerla 18
oktyabrya 1831 g.

Last-modified: Tue, 17 Oct 2006 16:36:08 GMT
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