Читаем Стихи. (В переводах разных авторов) полностью

Стихи. (В переводах разных авторов)

Уильям Батлер Йейтс

At evening on the glimmering sands,

Beside the piled-up hunting spears,

These now outworn and withered hands

Wrestled among the island bands.

O patrick! for a hundred years

We went a-fishing in long boats

With bending sterns and bending bows,

And carven figures on their prows

Of bitterns and fish-eating stoats.

O patrick! for a hundred years

The gentle Niamh was my wife;

But now two things devour my life;

The things that most of all I hate:

Fasting and prayers.

S. Patrick. Tell on.

Oisin. Yes, yes,

For these were ancient Oisin's fate

Loosed long ago from Heaven's gate,

For his last days to lie in wait.

When one day by the tide I stood,

I found in that forgetfulness

Of dreamy foam a staff of wood

From some dead warrior's broken lance:

I tutned it in my hands; the stains

Of war were on it, and I wept,

Remembering how the Fenians stept

Along the blood-bedabbled plains,

Equal to good or grievous chance:

Thereon young Niamh softly came

And caught my hands, but spake no word

Save only many times my name,

In murmurs, like a frighted bird.

We passed by woods, and lawns of clover,

And found the horse and bridled him,

For we knew well the old was over.

I heard one say, 'His eyes grow dim

With all the ancient sorrow of men';

And wrapped in dreams rode out again

With hoofs of the pale findrinny

Over the glimmering purple sea.

Under the golden evening light,

The Immortals moved among thc fountains

By rivers and the woods' old night;

Some danced like shadows on the mountains

Some wandered ever hand in hand;

Or sat in dreams on the pale strand,

Each forehead like an obscure star

Bent down above each hooked knee,

And sang, and with a dreamy gaze

Watched where the sun in a saffron blaze

Was slumbering half in the sea-ways;

And, as they sang, the painted birds

Kept time with their bright wings and feet;

Like drops of honey came their words,

But fainter than a young lamb's bleat.

'An old man stirs the fire to a blaze,

In the house of a child, of a friend, of a brother.

He has over-lingered his welcome; the days,

Grown desolate, whisper and sigh to each other;

He hears the storm in the chimney above,

And bends to the fire and shakes with the cold,

While his heart still dreams of battle and love,

And the cry of the hounds on the hills of old.

But We are apart in the grassy places,

Where care cannot trouble the least of our days,

Or the softness of youth be gone from our faces,

Or love's first tenderness die in our gaze.

The hare grows old as she plays in the sun

And gazes around her with eyes of brightness;

Before the swift things that she dreamed of were done

She limps along in an aged whiteness;

A storm of birds in the Asian trees

Like tulips in the air a-winging,

And the gentle waves of the summer seas,

That raise their heads and wander singing,

Must murmur at last, "Unjust, unjust";

And "My speed is a weariness," falters the mouse,

And the kingfisher turns to a ball of dust,

And the roof falls in of his tunnelled house.

But the love-dew dims our eyes till the day

When God shall come from the Sea with a sigh

And bid the stars drop down from the sky,

And the moon like a pale rose wither away.

Единственная ревность Эмер

Действующие лица

Три Музыканта (загримированы под маски)

Дух Кухулина (в маске)

Тело Кухулина (в маске)

Эмер (в маске или загримирована под маску)

Этне Ингуба (в маске или загримирована под маску)

Сида (в маске)

Входят Музыканты, одетые и загримированные так же, как в пьесе «У ястребиного источника». При них те же музыкальные инструменты, либо заранее стоявшие на сцене, либо внесенные Первым Музыкантом (до того, как он встанет посреди сцены с полотнищем в руках) или другим актером (после того, как развернут полотнище). Задником, как и прежде, может служить стена любого помещения; можно использовать то же самое черное полотнище, что и в пьесе «У ястребиного источника».

[Песня при развертывании и свертывании полотнища]