Стихи

… Осенней улицей пройдя,
Свернем в осенний лес.
Как странно столько лет спустя
Мне оказаться здесь.

Вот тут она шепнула: «Да!»,

Вон там сказала: «Нет!»,
А здесь вот я стоял тогда
И нес блаженный бред…

Так я пройду тропинкой сей

Когда-нибудь потом,
Без элегических затей,
Конкретным старичком.

– XL-

Into my heart an air that kills
From yon far country blows:
What are those blue remembered hills,
What spires, what farms are those?

That is the land of lost content,

I see it shining plain,
The happy highways where I went
And cannot come again.

– 40-

Издалека пахнуло тем,
Что гибелью грозит:
Где ж эти вешние холмы,
Где ж та листва шумит?

Ах, это край, где вечно май,

Где вечно мы, дружок,
Сидим на склоне, расстелив
В длину мой пиджачок.

– XLI-

In my own shire, if I was sad,
Homely comforters I had:
The earth, because my heart was sore,
Sorrowed for the son she bore;
And standing hills, long to remain,
Shared their short-lived comrade's pain.
And bound for the same bourn as I,
On every road I wandered by,
Trod beside me, close and dear,
The beautiful and death-struck year:
Whether in the woodland brown
I heard the beechnut rustle down,
And saw the purple crocus pale
Flower about the autumn dale;
Or littering far the fields of May
Lady-smocks a-bleaching lay,
And like a skylit water stood
The bluebells in the azured wood.
Yonder, lightening other loads,
The seasons range the country roads,
But here in London streets I ken
No such helpmates, only men;
And these are not in plight to bear,
If they would, another's care.
They have enough as 'tis: I see
In many an eye that measures me
The mortal sickness of a mind
Too unhappy to be kind.
Undone with misery, all they can
Is to hate their fellow man;
And till they drop they needs must still
Look at you and wish you ill.

– 41- ОЗЕРО СЕНЕЖ