Стихотворения
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Название: Стихотворения
Автор: Набоков Владимир
Дата добавления: 15 январь 2020
Количество просмотров: 293
Стихотворения читать книгу онлайн
Стихотворения - читать бесплатно онлайн , автор Набоков Владимир
Наиболее полное из всех до сих пор изданных в России собраний поэтических произведений крупнейшего русского/американского писателя XX века. В связи с уникальной спецификой двуязычного творчества Набокова в книге публикуются также его стихи, написанные на английском языке, и поэтические переводы на английский язык классических текстов русской поэзии (Пушкин, Лермонтов, Фет, Тютчев, Ходасевич). Публикуется также ряд переводов на французский язык и стихотворения из романов.
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452. THE ANGEL {*}
An angel was crossing the pale vault of night,
and his song was as soft as his flight,
and the moon and the stars and the clouds in a throng
stood enthralled by this holy song.
He sang of the bliss of the innocent shades
in the depths of celestial glades;
he sang of the Sovereign Being, and free
of guile was his eulogy.
He carried a soul in his arms, a young life
to the world of sorrow and strife,
and the young soul retained the throb of that song
— without words, but vivid and strong.
And tied to this planet long did it pine
full of yearnings dimly divine,
and our dull little ditties could never replace
songs belonging to infinite space.
453. THE SAIL {*}
Amid the blue haze of the ocean
a sail is passing, white and frail.
What do you seek in a far country?
What have you left at home, lone sail?
The billows play, the breezes whistle,
and rhythmically creaks the mast.
Alas, you seek no happy future,
nor do you flee a happy past.
Below the mirrored azure brightens,
above the golden rays increase —
but you, wild rover, pray for tempests,
as if in tempests there were peace.
454. THE ROCK {*}
The little golden cloud that spent the night
upon the breast of yon great rock, next day
rose early and in haste pursued its way
eager to gambol in the azure light.
A humid trace, however, did remain
within a wrinkle of the rock. Alone
and wrapt in thought, the old gentle stone
sheds silent tears above the empty plain.
455. IMITATION OF HEINE {*}
A pine there stands in the northern wilds
alone on a barren bluff,
swaying and dreaming and clothed by the snow
in a cloak of the finest fluff —
dreaming a dream of a distant waste,
a country of sun-flushed sands
where all forlorn on torrid cliff
a lovely palm tree stands.
456. THANKSGIVING {*}
For everything, for everything, О Lord,
I thank Thee —
for the secret pangs of passions,
the poisoned fangs of kisses,
the bitter taste
of tears;
for the revenge of foes
and for the calumny of friends,
and for the waste
of a soul's fervor burning in a desert,
and for all things that have deceived me here.
But please, О Lord,
henceforth let matters be arranged
in such a way
that I need not keep thanking Thee
much longer
457. THE SKY AND THE STARS {*}
Fair is the evening sky,
clear are the stars in the distance,
as clear as the joy of an infant.
Oh, why can't I tell myself even in thought:
The stars are as clear as my joy!
What is your trouble —
people might query.
Just this is my trouble,
excellent people: the sky and the stars
are the stars and the sky, whereas I am a man.
People are envious
of one another.
I, on the contrary, —
only the beautiful stars do I envy,
only to be in their place do I wish.
458. THE WISH {*}
Open the door of my prison,
let me see the daylight again,
give me a black-eyed maiden
and a horse with a jet-black mane.
Over the wide blue grassland
let that courser carry me,
and just once, just a little closer,
let me glance at that alien portion —
that life and that liberty.
Give me a leaky sailboat
with a bench of half-rotten wood
and a well-worn sail all hoary
from the tempests it has withstood.
Then I shall launch on my voyage,
friendless and therefore free,
and shall have my fling in the open
and delight in the mighty struggle
with the savage whim of the sea.
Give me a lofty palace
with an arbour all around
where amber grapes would ripen
and the broad shade fleck the ground.
Let an ever-purling fountain
among marble pillars play
and lull me to sleep and wake me
in a halo of heavenly visions
and the cool dust of its spray.
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