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

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stars with metry light;


The surety of its hidden root


Has planted quiet in the night;


The shaking of its leafy head


Has given the waves their melody,


And made my lips and music wed,


Murmuring a wizard song for thee.


There the Joves a circle go,


The flaming circle of our days,


Gyring, spiring to and fro


In those great ignorant leafy ways;


Remembering all that shaken hair


And how the winged sandals dart,


Thine eyes grow full of tender care:


Beloved, gaze in thine own heart.




Gaze no more in the bitter glass


The demons, with their subtle guile.


Lift up before us when they pass,


Or only gaze a little while;


For there a fatal image grows


That the stormy night receives,


Roots half hidden under snows,


Broken boughs and blackened leaves.


For ill things turn to barrenness


In the dim glass the demons hold,


The glass of outer weariness,


Made when God slept in times of old.


There, through the broken branches, go


The ravens of unresting thought;


Flying, crying, to and fro,


Cruel claw and hungry throat,


Or else they stand and sniff the wind,


And shake their ragged wings; alas!
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