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Йейтс Уильям Батлер
«Стихи. (В переводах разных авторов)»

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And broke the heaving ranks of battle!

And Bran, Sceolan, and Lomair,

Where are you with your long rough hair?

You go not where the red deer feeds,

Nor tear the foemen from their steeds.

S. Patrick. Boast not, nor mourn with drooping head

Companions long accurst and dead,

And hounds for centuries dust and air.

Oisin. We galloped over the glossy sea:

I know not if days passed or hours,

And Niamh sang continually

Danaan songs, and their dewy showers

Of pensive laughter, unhuman sound,

Lulled weariness, and softly round

My human sorrow her white arms wound.

We galloped; now a hornless deer

Passed by us, chased by a phantom hound

All pearly white, save one red ear;

And now a lady rode like the wind

With an apple of gold in her tossing hand;

And a beautiful young man followed behind

With quenchless gaze and fluttering hair.

'Were these two born in the Danaan land,

Or have they breathed the mortal air?

'Vex them no longer, Niamh said,

And sighing bowed her gentle head,

And sighing laid the pearly tip

Of one long finger on my lip.



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