Поэтический мир прерафаэлитов

For a day and a night Love sang to us, played with us,
Folded us round from the dark and the light;
And our hearts were fulfilled of the music he made with us,
Made with our hearts and our lips while he stayed with us,
Stayed in mid passage his pinions from flight
For a day and a night.

From his foes that kept watch with his wings had he hidden us,

Covered us close from the eyes that would smite,
From the feet that had tracked and the tongues that had chidden us
Sheltering in shade of the myrtles forbidden us
Spirit and flesh growing one with delight
For a day and a night.

But his wings will not rest and his feet will not stay for us:

Morning is here in the joy of its might;
With his breath has he sweetened a night and a day for us;
Now let him pass, and the myrtles make way for us;
Love can but last in us here at his height
For a day and a night.

НА ПРОЩАНИЕ

День один и одну только ночь нас качала
Любовь. Свет и тьма были схожи точь-в-точь.
В нас играла и в музыку нас облачала,
На губах и в сердцах наших песней звучала,
Не спешила на крыльях распахнутых прочь
День один и одну только ночь.

От врагов недреманных крылом защищала,

Укрывала от тех, кто до зрелищ охоч,
От толпы, что гнала, от молвы, что стращала
И забыться под миртами нам запрещала.
Дух и плоть в единенье могли изнемочь
День один и одну только ночь.

Но лишь солнце взошло, как она заскучала,

Рядом с нами томиться ей стало невмочь.
День и ночь нас дыханьем своим услащала…
Пусть идет. Что нам мирты — любому сначала
На такой высоте удержаться бы смочь
День один и одну только ночь.

Перевод М. Фаликман

THE SALT OF THE EARTH

If childhood were not in the world,
      But only men and women grown;
No baby-locks in tendrils curled,
      No baby-blossoms blown;

Though men were stronger, women fairer,

      And nearer all delights in reach,
And verse and music uttered rarer
      Tones of more godlike speech;

Though the utmost life of life’s best hours

      Found, as it cannot now find, words;
Though desert sands were sweet as flowers,
      And flowers could sing like birds:

But children never heard them, never

      They felt a child’s foot leap and run, —
This were a drearier star than ever
      Yet looked upon the sun.

Arthur Hughes THE KING’S ORCHARD Oil on canvas. Circa 1858 Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge

Артур Хьюз КОРОЛЕВСКИЙ САД Холст, масло. Ок. 1858 Музей Фицуильяма, Кембридж

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