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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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