|mili Dikinson. Stihotvoreniya
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Emily Dickinson, Poems
© Copyright Perevodchiki Arkadij Gavrilov, YAkov Berger, Leonid Sitnik
Email: l_sitnik@autopanorama.mtu-net.ru
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Soderzhanie:
Vremya sobirat' kameshki. Leonid Sitnik
|mili Dikinson. Tornton Uajlder
|mili Dikinson. Stihotvoreniya
19 A sepal, petal, and a thorn
Rostok, listok i lepestok... Perevod L. Sitnika
23 I had a guinea golden
U menya byla gineya... Perevod L. Sitnika
49 I never lost as much but twice
YA vse teryala dvazhdy... Perevod L. Sitnika
61 Papa above!
Papa svyshe! Perevod L. Sitnika
89 Some things that fly there be
Kakie-to veshchi letyat, no oni... Perevod L. Sitnika
106 The Daisy follows soft the Sun
Cvetok sledit za solncem vzglyadom... Perevod L. Sitnika
115 What Inn is this
CHto za priyut... Perevod L. Sitnika
118 My friend attacks my friend!
Moj drug napal na druga! Perevod L. Sitnika
119 Talk with prudence to a Beggar
O sokrovishchah i zlate... Perevod L. Sitnika
120 If this is "fading"
O esli eto -- "uvyadan'e"... Perevod L. Sitnika
126 To fight aloud, is very brave
Srazhat'sya smelo -- slavnyj trud... Perevod L. Sitnika
131 Besides the Autumn poets sing
Ne tol'ko osen'yu poyut... Perevod A. Gavrilova
139 Soul, Wilt thou toss again?
Dusha, ty volnuesh'sya snova? Perevod L. Sitnika
140 An altered look about the hills
Menyayushchijsya vid holmov... Perevod A. Gavrilova
153 Dust is the only Secret
Prah -- odna tol'ko Tajna... Perevod L. Sitnika
172 'Tis so much joy! 'Tis so much joy!
Veselee! Veselee! Perevod YA. Bergera
180 As if some little Arctic flower
Predstav', chto malen'kij cvetok... Perevod L. Sitnika
182 If I shouldn't be alive
Esli mne zhivoj ne vstretit'... Perevod L. Sitnika
205 I should not dare to leave my friend
Ne dolzhen byt' ostavlen drug... Perevod A. Gavrilova
216 Safe in their Alabaster Chambers
Ukryty v alebastrovyh palatah... Perevod A. Gavrilova
235 The Court is far away
Pravdy net -- i dalek... Perevod L. Sitnika
239 "Heaven" -- is what I cannot reach!
Mne ne doprygnut' do nebes... Perevod L. Sitnika
243 I've known a Heaven, like a Tent
YA znayu -- Nebo, kak shater... Perevod A. Gavrilova
248 Why -- do they shut Me out of Heaven?
Pochemu menya na nebe... Perevod L. Sitnika
266 This -- is the land -- the Sunset washes
Zemlya, chej bereg omyvayut... Perevod YA. Bergera
275 Doubt Me! My Dim Companion!
Ne verish' mne, moj strannyj drug! Perevod L. Sitnika
280 I felt a Funeral, in my Brain
Zvuk pohoron v moem mozgu... Perevod L. Sitnika
289 I know some lonely Houses off the Road
Est' pustye doma v storone ot dorog... Perevod L. Sitnika
303 The Soul selects her own Society
Dusha vybiraet obshchestvo... Perevod L. Sitnika
318 I'll tell you how the Sun rose
YA rasskazhu vam, kak voshodit solnce. Perevod L. Sitnika
347 When Night is almost done
K ishodu dolgoj nochi... Perevod YA. Bergera
377 To lose one's faith -- surpass
Utratit' veru -- huzhe, chem... Perevod L. Sitnika
389 There's been a Death, in the Opposite House,
Skoro v dome, chto naprotiv... Perevod L. Sitnika
409 They dropped like Flakes
Kak Zvezdy, padali oni... Perevod A. Gavrilova
441 This is my letter to the World
Zdes' pis'ma k miru ot menya... Perevod L. Sitnika
449 I died for Beauty -- but was scarce
YA umerla za Krasotu... Perevod A. Gavrilova
508 I'm ceded -- I've stopped being Theirs
YA udalyayus' -- ya uzhe ne vasha... Perevod L. Sitnika
509 If anybody's friend be dead
Kogda umret vash luchshij drug... Perevod YA. Bergera
536 The Heart asks Pleasure -- first
Sperva my prosim radosti... Perevod YA. Bergera
547 I've seen a Dying Eye
YA videl mertvye glaza... Perevod L. Sitnika
556 The Brain, within its Groove
V izvilinah mozgi... Perevod L. Sitnika
583 A Toad, can die of Light
Svet dlya zhaby -- otrava... Perevod L. Sitnika
619 Glee -- The great storm is over
Radujtes'! Konchilas' burya! Perevod L. Sitnika
622 To know just how He suffered -- would be dear --
Uznat', kak stradal on -- uzhe nagrada... Perevod L. Sitnika
623 It was too late for Man
Slishkom pozdno dlya cheloveka... Perevod L. Sitnika
664 Of all the Souls that stand create
Iz sonma sotvorennyh Dush... Perevod A. Gavrilova
670 One need not be a Chamber -- to be Haunted
Ne nuzhno komnat privideniyu... Perevod YA. Bergera
682 'Twould ease -- a Butterfly
Legko byt' motyl'kom... Perevod L. Sitnika
709 Publication -- is the Auction
Publikaciya -- prodazha... Perevod A. Gavrilova
732 She rose to His Requirement -- droppt
Ona dorosla do togo, chtoby, brosiv... Perevod L. Sitnika
742 Four Trees -- upon a solitary Acre
CHetyre dereva -- v pustynnom meste... Perevod L. Sitnika
759 He fought like those Who've nought to lose
On bilsya yarostno -- sebya... Perevod A. Gavrilova
764 Presentiment -- is that long Shadow -- on the Lawn
Predchuvstvie -- eto dlinnaya ten' na lugu... Perevod L. Sitnika
793 Grief is a Mouse
Pechal' -- eto mysh'... Perevod L. Sitnika
797 By my Window have I for Scenery
Pejzazhem ya vizhu iz moego okna... Perevod L. Sitnika
822 This Consciousness that is aware
Soznanie, chto soznaet... Perevod A. Gavrilova
887 We outgrow love, like other things
My vyrastaem iz lyubvi... Perevod L. Sitnika
975 The Mountain sat upon the Plain
Gory sadyatsya v dolinu... Perevod L. Sitnika
976 Death is a Dialogue between
Smert' -- eto dolgij razgovor... Perevod L. Sitnika
1055 The Soul should always stand ajar
Dusha dolzhna zhit' naraspashku... Perevod L. Sitnika
1067 Except the smaller size
Lish' malen'kaya tvar'... Perevod A. Gavrilova
1075 The Sky is low -- the Clouds are mean.
Nebo nizhe -- chem oblaka. Perevod L. Sitnika
1129 Tell all the Truth but tell it slant
Skazhi vsyu Pravdu, no lish' vskol'z'... Perevod L. Sitnika
1182 Remembrance has a Rear and Front
Pamyat' imeet okna i steny... Perevod L. Sitnika
1186 Too few the mornings be
Zdes' slishkom kratki dni... Perevod L. Sitnika
1207 He preached upon 'Breadth' till it argued him narrow
On uchil "shirote", i v tom byla uzost'... Perevod L. Sitnika
1212 A word is dead
Mysl' umiraet... Perevod L. Sitnika
1216 A Deed knocks first at Thought
Postupok budit Mysl'... Perevod L. Sitnika
1287 In this short Life
V korotkoj zhizni sej... Perevod A. Gavrilova
1396 She laid her docile Crescent down
Kosu svoyu slozhila smert'... Perevod YA. Bergera
1398 I have no Life but this
Mne zhizni net inoj... Perevod L. Sitnika
1478 Look back on Time, with kindly eyes
Vzglyani na vremya blagodarno... Perevod YA. Bergera
1544 Who has not found the Heaven -- below
Kto ne nashel nebes vnizu... Perevod L. Sitnika
1587 He ate and drank the precious Words
On el i pil volshebnyj slog... Perevod L. Sitnika
1593 There came a Wind like a Bugle
Vdrug v tishinu vorvalsya shkval... Perevod A. Gavrilova
1599 Though the great Waters sleep
Pust' Velikie Vody spyat... Perevod L. Sitnika
1672 Lightly stepped a yellow star
Tiho zheltaya Zvezda... Perevod A. Gavrilova
1732 My life closed twice before its close
YA dvazhdy skonchayus', i pered koncom... Perevod L. Sitnika
1736 Proud of my broken heart, since thou didst break it
Gordis' moim slomannym serdcem, slomavshij ego... Perevod L. Sitnika
Vremya sobirat' kameshki
Za |mili Dikinson vodilos' mnogo strannostej. |to ee neizmennoe beloe
plat'e ili zamknutyj obraz zhizni, kogda ona dazhe s druz'yami razgovarivala
iz-za poluotkrytoj dveri. Nakonec, glavnoe, -- poetessa, vposledstvii
priznannaya geniem amerikanskoj literatury, pri zhizni tak i ostalas'
prakticheski nikomu neizvestnoj. Vprochem, luchshe, chem Oskar Uajld ob etom ne
napishesh', a posemu ya hochu ogranichit'sya v svoem vstuplenii samymi
neobhodimymi zamechaniyami, kasayushchimisya strannosti ee stihov, da i to lish' v
toj stepeni, v kakoj eto zatragivaet perevody.
Uzhe nemalo bylo napisano ob osobennostyah punktuacii v stihah Dikinson.
Prezhde vsego -- ob upotreblenii tire. Utverzhdalos', chto tire dlya Dikinson --
eto bolee tonkij instrument ritmicheskogo deleniya, dopolnitel'noe sredstvo
smyslovoj strukturizacii, prosto universal'nyj zamenitel' vseh ostal'nyh
znakov prepinaniya. V ee tekstah pri zhelanii mozhno otyskat' stol' zhe mnogo
primerov, podtverzhdayushchih lyubuyu teoriyu, skol' i sluchaev, govoryashchih o tom, chto
vse eti tire svidetel'stvuyut isklyuchitel'no o psihicheskom sostoyanii speshki i
neterpeniya, chto oni yavlyayutsya svoeobraznymi uskoritelyami pis'ma i, ya by
skazal, mysli. Krome togo, davno podmecheno, chto poety lyubyat tire, v to vremya
kak lyudi uchenye predpochitayut dvoetochiya.
Ne bol'she smysla viditsya mne i v uglublennom analize upotrebleniya
strochnoj ili propisnoj bukvy v nachale slov. Pochemu Bog ili Smert' vo vseh
stihah napisany s propisnoj -- predel'no yasno, no zachem v stihotvorenii 508
pisat' s propisnoj slovo Kukly ryadom so slovom cerkov', napisannym so
strochnoj, ob®yasnit' nevozmozhno nichem, krome kak nebrezhnost'yu i toj zhe
speshkoj. Dlya perevodchika v etih tire i zaglavnyh bukvah vazhno tol'ko odno --
oni est', i oni soobshchayut stiham tot nepovtorimyj vid, kotoryj oni imeyut.
CHto zhe kasaetsya osobennostej sinonimicheskih ryadov v poezii Dikinson,
prosodicheskih harakteristik, struktur katrenov, vsevozmozhnyh sinkop,
assonansov i dissonansov, a takzhe sochetaniya novatorstva i tradicionnosti,
to, priznayus', chto eto slishkom special'naya dlya menya tema. Rassuzhdeniya zhe o
sposobah adekvatnoj peredachi vsego etogo v russkom perevode navodyat na menya
tosku. Ee stihi napisany dostatochno ploho, chtoby eshche i narochno koverkat' ih
po-russki radi sohraneniya kakoj-nibud' specifiki sintaksicheskih modelej.
Esli by ya mog, ya voobshche napisal by vse eto inache, luchshe. No ya ne mogu.
Poetomu i zanimayus' perevodami.
Net u menya ohoty rassuzhdat' i o kul'turno-istoricheskom znachenii poezii
|mili Dikinson. |to tema slishkom dlya menya obshchaya. Dlya velikih poetov i bez
togo zagotovleno mnogo dezhurnyh slov. |mili Dikinson govorila s vechnost'yu!
Po otnosheniyu k amerikanke eta fraza vstrechaetsya chashche vsego. YA nichego ne hochu
govorit' o vechnosti. V lyubom sluchae, naibolee citiruemye stroki Dikinson --
o Pis'mah Miru, o Dushe, Zapirayushchej Dver', ob |kipazhe Kavalera-Smert' --
kazhutsya mne nichut' ne bolee glubokimi, chem stihi o cvetah i babochkah --
sovsem prostye i detskie.
S moej tochki zrenie odno iz glavnyh dostoinstv ee stihov sostoit v tom,
chto ih ochen' mnogo i oni pochti vse odinakovye, kak kameshki na beregu morya.
Po otdel'nosti oni imeyut malo cennosti. No vse vmeste proizvodyat strannyj
effekt -- chto-to vrode pustogo plyazha, odinokoj figury na beregu... Koroche,
vechnost'.
Perevod -- eto igra. Razumeetsya, vo vsyakoj igre est' smysl. Bud' to
udovletvorenie sobstvennyh ambicij ili reshenie vysokih zadach
issledovatel'skogo ili kul'turnogo svojstva. No i eto igra. I podlinnyj
smysl ee igrayushchemu nevedom. Lichno mne vsegda nravilos' perebirat' kameshki na
beregu. Hodovoj cennosti v nih -- nikakoj. Krasivymi oni stanovyatsya, tol'ko
esli smochit' ih v more lyudskoj sentimental'nosti ili pomestit' v akvarium --
v iskusstvennyj mirok s pokupnymi zolotymi rybkami. Prichem samym krasivym
vse ravno pokazhetsya butylochnoe steklyshko.
Leonid Sitnik
|mili Dikinson
Kak poet, |mili Dikinson nachinala s dvuh ogromnyh nedostatkov --
neveroyatnoj legkosti stihotvorchestva i uvlecheniya durnymi obrazcami. Pozzhe
ona dolzhna byla zapoem chitat' SHekspira, Miltona, Gerberta, velikih
anglijskih poetov svoego veka, i izvestno, kakoe vliyanie oni okazali na ee
yazyk, no izvestno takzhe, naskol'ko malo zatronulo eto vliyanie stihotvornye
formy, kotorye ona ispol'zovala. Ishodnym punktom dlya nee byli
sentimental'nye nadpisi, chto delayut na podarkah, hristianskij ezhegodnik,
gazety, svetskie zhurnaly -- lyubimoe chtenie svyashchennikov, utonchennyh dam i
chuvstvitel'nyh natur. No dazhe v sbornikah cerkovnyh gimnov vliyanie na nee
okazyvali, po vsej vidimosti, daleko ne luchshie poety. I hotya ona vvela
neskol'ko porazitel'nyh novshestv v tom, chto kasaetsya form, ne menee
porazitel'nym yavlyaetsya to, chto ona ne sdelala dazhe popytki ujti ot
shestistopnoj stroficheskoj shemy, s kotoroj nachinala. YA predpochitayu videt' v
etom eshche odnu illyustraciyu zastoya v ee razvitii, kotoryj my obnaruzhivaem
povsyudu. Ona proyavlyala neobychajnuyu smelost' v tom, chto ona delala v ramkah
etih shem (ona skoro porvala ih shvy), no forma poezii i do nekotoroj stepeni
sort poezii, kotoroj ona voshishchalas' devochkoj, ostalis' neizmennymi v
stihah, kotorye ona pisala do samogo konca.
V aprele 1862 goda (ej shel togda 32-j god) ona pisala polkovniku
Higginsonu: "YA ne sochinyala stihov, za isklyucheniem odnogo ili dvuh, do
proshloj zimy, ser". Do sih por ochen' malo stihotvorenij s uverennost'yu
datirovany bolee rannim periodom, no mne kazhetsya, chto zdes' ona imela v vidu
otbor: ne sochinyala stihov vysshego soznatel'nogo urovnya. Est' nemalo
stihotvorenij, napisannyh priblizitel'no v eto vremya i, nesomnenno, ranee
(zdes', estestvenno, my kasaemsya lyubimejshego punkta sostavitelej antologij),
takih kak "If I Can Stop One Heart from Breaking", ili "I Taste a Liquor
Never Brewed", ili "To Fight Aloud Is Very Brave", kotorye govoryat o nalichii
dostatochno bol'shogo opyta v stihotvorchestve. Perehody ot odnoj strofy k
drugoj ochen' iskusny i predpolagayut obshirnuyu praktiku, na lyudyah ili v tajne.
Mne kazhetsya nesomnennym, chto kogda okolo 1861 goda |mili Dikinson sobralas'
pisat' samym ser'eznym obrazom, ona dolzhna byla ne tol'ko vybirat'sya iz
zapadni prirodnoj sposobnosti k stihotvorchestvu, no i borot'sya s uzhe davno
vyrabotavshejsya sposobnost'yu k vneshnej effektnosti -- v legkom pafose i
legkoj epigramme.
Kak raz pered tem, kak poslat' pervye obrazcy svoih rabot polkovniku
Higginsonu, ona vyigrala reshayushchuyu bitvu so svoim navykom k legkosti. Ona
nashla muzhestvo pisat' stihi, "oskorblyavshie razum" ee sovremennikov.
Polkovnika Higginsona shokirovalo ne to, chto ona inogda pribegala k "plohim"
rifmam (stol' chastym v poezii missis Brauning), i ne to, chto ona podmenyala
rifmu assonansami, i dazhe ne to, chto ona podchas otkazyvalas' ot rifmy voobshche
(podobnye priemy on prinimal u Uolta Uitmana, ch'i raboty on rekomendoval ej
dlya chteniya), -- no to, chto vse eti nepravil'nosti soedinyalis' i byli gluboko
vnedreny v naibolee tradicionnuyu iz vseh stihotvornyh form.
Po proshestvii mnogih let my mozhem nabrat'sya smelosti i vosproizvesti
hod ee bor'by. Novaya volna zahlestnula vse ee sushchestvo; ej zahotelos'
skazat' so strast'yu to, chto do etogo ona govorila igrayuchi, govorila s
koketstvom. Novye vysoty -- osobenno v novyh stranah -- vzyvayut k novym
formam. Detskaya privyazannost', tem ne menee, meshala ej otkazat'sya ot
stroficheskih shem ee rannego chteniya. Ona otvernulas' ot pravil'nyh rifm, ot
vechnyh "krov'-lyubov'" i "slezy-grezy", ne potomu, chto ej bylo len' vozit'sya
s nimi, a potomu chto pravil'nye rifmy kazalis' vneshnim vyrazheniem
vnutrennego konservatizma. Ona nazyvala pravil'nye rifmy "prozoj" -- "oni
zatykayut menya v proze" -- i v tom zhe stihotvorenii ona nazyvala ih
"rabstvom".
Odno iz ee izobretenij naglyadno demonstriruet nam, naskol'ko osoznavala
ona to, chto delala. Ona iskusno predlagala nam ryad vse bolee pravil'nyh
rifm, chtoby nashe uho zhdalo sleduyushchej, i zatem v zavershayushchem stihe
otkazyvalas' ot rifmy voobshche. Stihotvorenie "Of Tribulation These Are They"
predlagaet nam "white-designate", "times-palms", "soil-mile", "road-Saved!"
(kursiv ee). Sozdaetsya effekt poehavshej nad nashimi golovami kryshi. V
stihotvorenie vtorgaetsya nesopostavimoe. V "I'll Tell Thee All -- How Blank
It Grew" ona raspahivaet vse okna v zaklyuchenie slovami "outvisions
paradise", nerifmovannymi posle treh strof neobyknovenno pravil'nyh rifm.
"Uchitel'" vygovarival ej za derzost', no ona stoyala na svoem. Ona ne
snizoshla do ob®yasnenij ili zashchity. Nezhelanie polkovnika publikovat' ee
raboty pokazalo ej, chto on ne schitaet ee poetom, skol' ni porazhali by ego
otdel'nye frazy. Ona prodolzhala izredka vklyuchat' stihotvoreniya v pis'ma k
druz'yam, no oni, vidimo, ne prosili ee pokazat' "pobol'she". Nadezhda na
podderzhku i mysli o sovremennoj auditorii stanovilis' vse bolee otdalennymi.
I vse zhe mysl' o vozmozhnosti literaturnoj slavy, okonchatel'nogo torzhestva,
nikogda ne ostavlyala ee. Stihotvorenie za stihotvoreniem ona nasmehalas' nad
izvestnost'yu. Ona sravnivala ee s aukcionom i s kvakan'em lyagushek; no
odnovremenno ona privetstvovala slavu kak posvyashchenie v san, kak "zhiznennyj
svet" poeta. CHto mogla ona predprinyat' v etoj situacii? Ona delala pyat'
shagov vpered i dva shaga nazad. Napisat' dve tysyachi stihov -- eto nemalyj shag
v napravlenii literaturnyh prityazanij, odnako sostoyanie, v kotorom ona
ostavila ih, -- ne menee yavnoj otstuplenie. Ona obrashchalas' k potomkam, chtoby
zasvidetel'stvovat', naskol'ko ej bezrazlichno ego odobrenie, no ona ne
unichtozhila svoego truda. Ona ne unichtozhila dazhe nabroski, chernoviki,
napisannye na krayu stola. Esli by ona perepisala vse nachisto, eto oznachalo
by pyat' shagov vpered i odin shag nazad; esli by ona rasporyadilas', chtoby ee
raboty byli sozhzheny drugimi, eto bylo by tri shaga nazad.
YA uveren, chto ona zashla dazhe dal'she v svoem zhelanii pokazat'
bezrazlichie k nashemu mneniyu; ona ne stol'ko oskorbila nash razum, skol'ko
posmeyalas' nad nim. CHitaya naibolee dostovernye ee teksty, my s udivleniem
obnaruzhivaem, chto stihotvorenie za stihotvoreniem s grehom popolam
zakanchivaetsya kakoj-nibud' banal'nost'yu ili nachinaetsya ochen' suho, a potom
karabkaetsya k vostorzhennosti. Nikto ne govorit, chto ona byla svobodna ot
ogrehov suzhdeniya ili vkusa, no poslednie tri slova v "How Many Times These
Low Feet Staggered" ili poslednyaya stroka v "They Put Us Far Apart" yavlyayutsya,
s tochki zreniya poezii, samym vyzyvayushchim cinizmom -- pervye kak bezvkusica,
vtoraya kak kakofoniya.
Inymi slovami, |mili Dikinson chasto pisala narochno ploho. Ona
dejstvitel'no ne iskala vashego ili moego odobreniya, odobreniya lyudej, ne
sposobnyh otdelit' vtorostepennogo ot glavnogo. Ona podcherknuto otstranilas'
ot nashih chelovecheskih, chelovecheskih, chelovecheskih suzhdenij i peresudov. Kak
my videli, ona obozhglas', esli ne sgorela, na slishkom chelovecheskom v
semejnyh vzaimootnosheniyah. Zatem ona byla ostavlena -- "predana", kak ona
sama nazyvaet eto -- chelovekom (a ya predpochitayu dumat', posledovatel'no
celym ryadom lyudej), kotorogo ona lyubila bol'she vsego. Ona zakrylas' ot nas
-- v svoem dome; i dazhe v svoem dome ona zakrylas': neskol'ko staryh druzej
dolzhny byli razgovarivat' s nej cherez poluotkrytuyu dver'. Ee vzglyad na lyudej
stanovilsya vse bolee i bolee abstraktnym. Ona ne otvergla nas okonchatel'no,
no ej vse bol'she nravilas' mysl', chto nasha cennost' znachitel'no povyshaetsya,
kogda my umiraem. Ej hvatilo smelosti vzglyanut' v lico tomu faktu, chto,
vozmozhno, net nikakoj drugoj zhizni: v stihotvorenii "Their Height in Heaven
Comforts Not" ona priznaet, chto vse eto lish' "dom predpolozhenij... na
granice polej vozmozhnogo". No tol'ko takaya kompaniya neobremenennyh nichem
zemnym mogla by ponyat', o chem ona govorit. Vseh ostal'nyh |mili postaralas'
odurachit'. V stihotvorenii, kotoroe nachinaetsya so slov "Trud, sdelannyj dlya
Vechnosti, dlya glavnoj chasti Vremeni", rech' v pervuyu ochered' vse-taki ne o
knigah, kotorye prodayutsya v magazinah.
Tornton Uajlder
|imili Dikinson. Stihotvoreniya
Original'nyj tekst, numeraciya i vremya napisaniya stihotvorenij vzyaty iz
"Polnogo sobraniya stihotvorenij |mili Dikinson" pod redakciej Tomasa
Dzhonsona
19
A sepal, petal, and a thorn
Upon a common summer's morn --
A flask of Dew -- A Bee or two --
A Breeze -- a caper in the trees --
And I'm a Rose!
1858
19
Rostok, listok i lepestok
I solnca utrennij potok --
Rosa v trave -- pchela il' dve --
Edva zametnyj veterok
I ya -- cvetok.
Perevod L. Sitnika
23
I had a guinea golden --
I lost it in the sand --
And tho' the sum was simple
And pounds were in the land --
Still, had it such a value
Unto my frugal eye --
That when I could not find it --
I sat me down to sigh.
I had a crimson Robin --
Who sang full many a day
But when the woods were painted,
He, too, did fly away --
Time brought me other Robins --
Their ballads were the same --
Still, for my missing Troubador
I kept the "house at hame."
I had a star in heaven --
One "Pleiad" was its name --
And when I was not heeding,
It wandered from the same.
And tho' the skies are crowded --
And all the night ashine --
I do not care about it --
Since none of them are mine.
My story has a moral --
I have a missing friend --
"Pleiad" its name, and Robin,
And guinea in the sand.
And when this mournful ditty
Accompanied with tear --
Shall meet the eye of traitor
In country far from here --
Grant that repentance solemn
May seize upon his mind --
And he no consolation
Beneath the sun may find.
1858
23
U menya byla gineya
Zolotaya, no v peske
YA gineyu poteryala.
I hotya lezhit vezde
Funtov na zemle nemalo --
Ih s zemli ne podnimala,
Potomu chto na moj glaz
Berezhlivyj vse zhe eto --
Tozhe cennaya moneta,
I gineyu vsyakij raz
Esli ya ne nahodila,
YA sadilas' i vzdyhala.
U menya byla zaryanka --
Karmazinovaya ptica,
CHto mne pela spozaranku
Celyj den', a posle -- noch',
No lish' les utratil sen',
Kak ona umchalas' proch'.
Priletyat drugie pticy --
Pesni te zhe ih, konechno,
No dlya sginuvshego druga
Budu ya derzhat' skvorechnik.
U menya zvezda na nebe,
Nazyvaetsya -- Pleyada,
I kogda brozhu odna ya,
To ona so mnoyu ryadom.
I pust' zvezd nad nami -- kom'ya
I vse nebo polyhaet,
Ne zabochus' ni o kom ya,
Lish' odna iz nih rodnaya.
Est' moral' u etoj pesni --
Bylo u menya tri druga --
Odnogo zvala -- Pleyada,
Ptica, chto umchalas' k yugu,
I gineya na peske.
No lish' pesenka prostaya
Do ushej druzej propavshih
Doneset, chto ya v toske,
To ne budet im spasen'ya
Ot pechali, poka tut,
V zolotom moem peske,
Oni solnca ne najdut.
Perevod L. Sitnika
49
I never lost as much but twice,
And that was in the sod.
Twice have I stood a beggar
Before the door of God!
Angels -- twice descending
Reimbursed my store --
Burglar! Banker -- Father!
I am poor once more!
1858
49
YA vse teryala dvazhdy
U smertnogo poroga,
Stoyala dvazhdy nishchej
Pered dveryami Boga!
I angel -- dvazhdy padshij --
Mne vozmeshchal poteri.
Otec! Bankir! Grabitel'!
YA vnov' stoyu u dveri!
Perevod L. Sitnika
61
Papa above!
Regard a Mouse
O'erpowered by the Cat!
Reserve within thy kingdom
A "Mansion" for the Rat!
Snug in seraphic Cupboards
To nibble all the day,
While unsuspecting Cycles
Wheel solemnly away!
1859
61
Papa svyshe!
Podumaj o myshi
V koshach'ih lapah!
Najdi na svete
Priyut ej, Papa!
V Tvoem Bufete
Daj vyzhdat' noch',
Pokuda Sfery
Ukatyat proch'!
Perevod L. Sitnika
89
Some things that fly there be --
Birds -- Hours -- the Bumblebee --
Of these no Elegy.
Some things that stay there be --
Grief -- Hills -- Eternity --
Nor this behooveth me.
There are that resting, rise.
Can I expound the skies?
How still the Riddle lies!
1859
89
Kakie-to veshchi letyat, no oni --
Pticy -- Pchely -- Dni --
Ne iz etoj |legii.
Kakie-to veshchi stoyat, no oni --
Gore -- Holmy -- Ogni --
|tomu ne srodni.
|to -- pokoyas' -- dvizhetsya izdaleka,
Kak eshche skazat' -- oblaka?
Razgadka legka.
Perevod L. Sitnika
106
The Daisy follows soft the Sun --
And when his golden walk is done --
Sits shyly at his feet --
He -- waking -- finds the flower there --
Wherefore -- Marauder -- art thou here?
Because, Sir, love is sweet!
We are the Flower -- Thou the Sun!
Forgive us, if as days decline --
We nearer steal to Thee!
Enamored of the parting West --
The peace -- the flight -- the Amethyst --
Night's possibility!
1859
106
Cvetok sledit za solncem vzglyadom,
I k vecheru, zametiv ryadom
S soboj glaza cvetka,
Ono vorchit, sklonivshis' nizko:
"Zachem ko mne sadish'sya blizko?"
"Zatem, chto zhizn' sladka!"
My vse -- cvety, a Ty -- svetilo!
Prosti nas, esli ne hvatilo
Nam dnya tebya lyubit', --
My vlyubleny v tvoi zakaty,
V tvoi polety i agaty,
I v polnoch' vperedi!
Perevod L. Sitnika
115
What Inn is this
Where for the night
Peculiar Traveller comes?
Who is the Landlord?
Where the maids?
Behold, what curious rooms!
No ruddy fires on the hearth --
No brimming Tankards flow --
Necromancer! Landlord!
Who are these below?
1859
115
CHto za priyut,
Gde do utra
Polny gostyami nomera,
No ne edyat zdes' i ne p'yut?
Kto zdes' hozyain? Gde prisluga?
I pochemu tak tesen ugol?
Ne vidno plameni v kamine,
I pennyh kruzhek net v pomine?
Sluga! Hozyain! Gospodin!
Kto ty, v treh oblikah edin?
Perevod L. Sitnika
118
My friend attacks my friend!
Oh Battle picturesque!
Then I turn Soldier too,
And he turns Satirist!
How martial is this place!
Had I a mighty gun
I think I'd shoot the human race
And then to glory run!
1859
118
Moj drug napal na druga!
CHto za krovavyj boj!
YA vzdumala vmeshat'sya,
Oni lish' posmeyalis' nado mnoj,
I snova vzyalis' drug za druzhku!
YA okazalas' lishnej tret'ej!
Kogda by mne -- bol'shuyu pushku,
YA rasstrelyala b vseh na svete!
Perevod L. Sitnika
119
Talk with prudence to a Beggar
Of "Potose," and the mines!
Reverently, to the Hungry
Of your viands, and your wines!
Cautious, hint to any Captive
You have passed enfranchised feet!
Anecdotes of air in Dungeons
Have sometimes proved deadly sweet!
1859
119
O sokrovishchah i zlate
Pobeseduj mudro s nishchim.
A golodnomu lyubezno
Rasskazhi o vkusnoj pishche.
Namekni hotya by vzgyadom
Zaklyuchennomu o begstve.
Dazhe lozh' sladka byvaet
Sredi gorestej i bedstvij.
Perevod L. Sitnika
120
If this is "fading"
Oh let me immediately "fade"!
If this is "dying"
Bury me, in such a shroud of red!
If this is "sleep,"
On such a night
How proud to shut the eye!
Good Evening, gentle Fellow men!
Peacock presumes to die!
1859
120
O esli eto -- "uvyadan'e",
Ono dejstvitel'no prekrasno!
O esli eto -- "umiran'e",
Pohoronite menya v krasnom!
I esli eto -- "son",
V podobnyj vecher
Mne bol'she ne na chto smotret'!
Moj nezhnyj drug, do skoroj vstrechi!
Pavlin predpochitaet umeret'!
Perevod L. Sitnika
126
To fight aloud, is very brave --
But gallanter, I know
Who charge within the bosom
The Cavalry of Woe --
Who win, and nations do not see --
Who fall -- and none observe --
Whose dying eyes, no Country
Regards with patriot love --
We trust, in plumed procession
For such, the Angels go --
Rank after Rank, with even feet --
And Uniforms of Snow.
1859
126
Srazhat'sya smelo -- slavnyj trud,
No budet tot hrabree,
Kto razob'et v svoej grudi
Pechali kavaleriyu.
Kto pobedit -- ne na vidu,
Padet -- nikem ne znaem,
CHej grob ne budut provozhat'
Vostorga polnym vzglyadom.
No Angely za nim pojdut,
Perom kachaya nezhnym,
Za stroem stroj, chekanya shag,
V sherengah belosnezhnyh.
Perevod L. Sitnika
131
Besides the Autumn poets sing
A few prosaic days
A little this side of the snow
And that side of the Haze --
A few incisive Mornings --
A few Ascetic Eves --
Gone -- Mr. Bryant's "Golden Rod" --
And Mr. Thomson's "sheaves."
Still, is the bustle in the Brook --
Sealed are the spicy valves --
Mesmeric fingers softly touch
The Eyes of many Elves --
Perhaps a squirrel may remain --
My sentiments to share --
Grant me, Oh Lord, a sunny mind --
Thy windy will to bear!
1859
131
Ne tol'ko osen'yu poyut
Poety, no i v dni,
Kogda meteli vihri v'yut
I treskayutsya pni.
Uzhe utrami inej,
I svetom dni skupy,
Na klumbe astry otcveli
I sobrany snopy.
Eshche voda svoj legkij beg
Stremit -- no holodna,
I el'fov zolotistyh vek
Komnulis' pal'cy sna.
Ostalas' belka zimovat',
V duplo upryatov klad.
O, daj mne, Gospodi, tepla --
CHtob vyderzhat' Tvoj hlad!
Perevod A.Gavrilova
139
Soul, Wilt thou toss again?
By just such a hazard
Hundreds have lost indeed --
But tens have won an all --
Angel's breathless ballot
Lingers to record thee --
Imps in eager Caucus
Raffle for my Soul!
1859
139
Dusha, ty volnuesh'sya snova?
No v etoj bezumnoj igre
Iz soten edva li desyat'
Vernutsya, ne pogorev.
I angely delayut stavki
I, ne dysha, glyadyat,
Kak demony -- moyu dushu
Zakladyvaya -- galdyat.
Perevod L. Sitnika
140
An altered look about the hills --
A Tyrian light the village fills --
A wider sunrise in the morn --
A deeper twilight on the lawn --
A print of a vermillion foot --
A purple finger on the slope --
A flippant fly upon the pane --
A spider at his trade again --
An added strut in Chanticleer --
A flower expected everywhere --
An axe shrill singing in the woods --
Fern odors on untravelled roads --
All this and more I cannot tell --
A furtive look you know as well --
And Nicodemus' Mystery
Receives its annual reply!
1859
140
Menyayushchijsya vid holmov --
Tirijskij svet sredi domov --
V polneba rozovyj rassvet
I sumerek zelenyj cvet --
Pod klenom prelaya listva --
Po sklonam zheltaya trava --
Bien'e muhi o steklo --
Pauch'e zloe remeslo --
I novyj golos petuha --
I ozhidanie cvetka --
I pen'e topora vdali --
I zapah torfa ot zemli --
Vse eto v poru pervyh groz --
I etot zvuk, i etot cvet --
I Nikodim na svoj vopros --
Vse poluchaet svoj otvet.
Perevod A. Gavrilova
153
Dust is the only Secret --
Death, the only One
You cannot find out all about
In his "native town."
Nobody know "his Father" --
Never was a Boy --
Hadn't any playmates,
Or "Early history" --
Industrious! Laconic!
Punctual! Sedate!
Bold as a Brigand!
Stiller than a Fleet!
Builds, like a Bird, too!
Christ robs the Nest --
Robin after Robin
Smuggled to Rest!
1860
153
Prah -- odna tol'ko Tajna,
Smert' -- odin lish' Sekret,
O kotorom v ego "rodnom gorode"
Svedenij net.
Nikto ne videl "ego Otca" --
Ne pomnil, chtob on mog rasti --
Ne bylo u nego ni druzej,
Ni "Detstva. YUnosti" --
Trudolyubivyj! Besslovnyj!
Tochnyj! Ne znavshij vrazhdy!
Derzkij, slovno Razbojnik!
I tishe vody!
Sam -- kak pernatyj!
Bog kradet gnezda --
Pticu za pticej
Pohishchaya k zvezdam!
Perevod L. Sitnika
172
'Tis so much joy! 'Tis so much joy!
If I should fail, what poverty!
And yet, as poor as I,
Have ventured all upon a throw!
Have gained! Yes! Hesitated so --
This side the Victory!
Life is but Life! And Death, but Death!
Bliss is, but Bliss, and Breath but Breath!
And if indeed I fail,
At least, to know the worst, is sweet!
Defeat means nothing but Defeat,
No drearier, can befall!
And if I gain! Oh Gun at Sea!
Oh Bells, that in the Steeples be!
At first, repeat it slow!
For Heaven is a different thing,
Conjectured, and waked sudden in --
And might extinguish me!
1860
172
Veselee! Veselee!
Porazhen'e -- ne beda!
V nishchete odna poterya
Vam ne sdelaet vreda;
Ne koleblyas', bros'te bedy
Po tu storonu pobedy!
ZHizn' -- lish' zhizn', a smert' -- lish' smert'!
Bud' blagoslovenna, tverd',
Na kotoroj, lish' igraya,
Mozhno vybrat'sya iz ada.
Bol'she nichego ne nado,
CHtoby vy dostigli raya.
A pobeda -- v pushki bejte!
I, uslyshav perezvon
Kolokol'nyj, ne robejte!
V nebesah inoj zakon.
V nebesah, prosnuvshis' vdrug,
Pozabudesh' svoj ispug.
Perevod YA. Bergera
180
As if some little Arctic flower
Upon the polar hem --
Went wandering down the Latitudes
Until it puzzled came
To continents of summer --
To firmaments of sun --
To strange, bright crowds of flowers --
And birds, of foreign tongue!
I say, As if this little flower
To Eden, wandered in --
What then? Why nothing,
Only, your inference therefrom!
1860
180
Predstav', chto malen'kij cvetok
Iz severnyh shirot
Spustilsya vniz vdol' dolgoty
I vot, otkryvshi rot,
Glyadit na letnij kontinent,
Na solnce bez granic,
Na pestruyu tolpu cvetov,
Na inostrancev ptic!
Skazhi, pust' dazhe eto Raj,
Kuda zabrel cvetok,
To chto s togo? Kakoj tomu
Ty podvedesh' itog!
Perevod L. Sitnika
182
If I shouldn't be alive
When the Robins come,
Give the one in Red Cravat,
A Memorial crumb.
If I couldn't thank you,
Being fast asleep,
You will know I'm trying
Why my Granite lip!
1860
182
Esli mne zhivoj ne vstretit'
Ptic, vernuvshihsya na nebo,
Bros' odnoj iz nih, chto v krasnom,
Pominal'nyj myakish hleba.
Esli ya tebe spasibo,
Zadremav, skazat' zabudu,
Znaj, chto etogo hoteli
Moi kamennye guby.
Perevod L. Sitnika
205
I should not dare to leave my friend,
Because -- because if he should die
While I was gone -- and I -- too late --
Should reach the Heart that wanted me --
If I should disappoint the eyes
That hunted -- hunted so -- to see --
And could not bear to shut until
They "noticed" me -- they noticed me --
If I should stab the patient faith
So sure I'd come -- so sure I'd come --
It listening -- listening -- went to sleep --
Telling my tardy name --
My Heart would wish it broke before --
Since breaking then -- since breaking then --
Were useless as next morning's sun --
Where midnight frosts -- had lain!
1860
205
Ne dolzhen byt' ostavlen drug --
Ved' esli Smert' k nemu pridet,
Kogda menya ne budet, -- ruk
Laskayushchih on ne najdet.
I esli vzglyada moego --
Kotorogo on zhdal i zhdal --
Ne vstretit, -- on glaza svoi
Zakryt' ne smozhet, hot' ustal.
I esli veru ya ub'yu --
CHto ya pridu, chto ya pridu, --
On budet imya povtoryat'
Moe v goryachechnom bredu.
Tak luchshe ran'she ya umru --
O, luchshe ran'she, chem potom, --
CHto tolku v Solnce poutru,
Kogda Zemlya pokryta l'dom!
Perevod A.Gavrilova
216
Safe in their Alabaster Chambers --
Untouched my Morning
And untouched by Noon --
Lie the meek members of the Resurrection --
Rafter of Satin -- and Roof of Stone!
Grand go the Years -- in the Crescent -- above them --
Worlds scoop their Arcs --
And Firmaments -- row --
Diadems -- drop -- and Doges -- surrender --
Soundless as dots -- on a Disc of Snow --
Variant 1860
216
Ukryty v alebastrovyh palatah,
Beschuvstvenny k utram
I begu dnej --
Spyat krotko chleny Voskreseniya --
Stropila, shelk i krysha iz kamnej.
Prohodyat gody i miry nad nimi,
I vygibaet Nebosvod dugu --
Sdayutsya dozhi, padayut korony --
Bezzvuchno, kak snezhinki na snegu.
Perevod A. Gavrilova
235
The Court is far away --
No Umpire -- have I --
My Sovereign is offended --
To gain his grace -- I'd die!
I'll seek his royal feet --
I'll say -- Remember -- King --
Thou shalt -- thyself -- one day -- a Child --
Implore a larger -- thing --
That Empire -- is of Czars --
As small -- they say -- as I --
Grant me -- that day -- the royalty --
To intercede -- for Thee --
1861
235
Pravdy net -- i dalek
Spravedlivyj sud'ya --
Na menya rasserdilsya Korol' --
CHtob vernut' ego milost' -- ya
Umerla u monarshih nog
So slovami -- Korol' --
Ty -- kogda-nibud' -- budesh' tak mal --
A poprosish' -- o stol' --
Velikom -- o bol'shem -- chem Vlast' --
Budesh' men'she -- chem ya --
Obeshchaj mne -- v tot den' -- San --
Zastupit'sya -- za Tebya.
Perevod L. Sitnika
239
"Heaven" -- is what I cannot reach!
The Apple on the Tree --
Provided it do hopeless -- hang --
That -- "Heaven" is -- to Me!
The Color, on the Cruising Cloud --
The interdicted Land --
Behind the Hill -- the House behind --
There -- Paradise -- is found!
Her teasing Purples -- Afternoons --
The credulous -- decoy --
Enamored -- of the Conjuror --
That spurned us -- Yesterday!
1861
239
Mne ne doprygnut' do nebes --
Do yabloka na dreve,
Kotoroe podvesil bes,
Ne dotyanut'sya -- deve.
I yabloko na oblake
Plyvet v zapretnyj kraj --
Za kraj holma -- zemli za kraj --
Gde raspolozhen Raj!
Draznyashchij purpur poldnej
Pogasyat vechera --
Deshevyj fokus pokazal
Velikij mag -- Vchera
Perevod L. Sitnika
243
I've known a Heaven, like a Tent --
To wrap its shining Yards --
Pluck up its stakes, and disappear --
Without the sound of Boards
Or Rip of Nail -- Or Carpenter --
But just the miles of Stare --
That signalize a Show's Retreat --
In North America --
No Trace -- no Figment of the Thing
That dazzled, Yesterday,
No Ring -- no Marvel --
Men, and Feats --
Dissolved as utterly --
As Bird's far Navigation
Discloses just a Hue --
A plash of Oar