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

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Of lovely, satisfied, indifferent eyes.


And thereupon with aged, high-pitched voice


Aherne laughed, thinking of the man within,




His sleepless candle and laborious pen.


Robartes. And after that the crumbling of the moon.


The soul remembering its loneliness


Shudders in many cradles; all is changed,


It would be the world's servant, and as it serves,


Choosing whatever task's most difficult


Among tasks not impossible, it takes


Upon the body and upon the soul


The coarseness of the drudge.


Aherne. Before the full


It sought itself and afterwards the world.




Robartes. Because you are forgotten, half out of life,


And never wrote a book, your thought is clear.


Reformer, merchant, statesman, learned man,


Dutiful husband, honest wife by turn,


Cradle upon cradle, and all in flight and all


Deformed because there is no deformity


But saves us from a dream.




Aherne. And what of those


That the last servile crescent has set free?




Robartes. Because all dark, like those that are all light,


They are cast beyond the verge, and in a cloud,


Crying to one another like the bats;


And having no desire they cannot tell


WhatТs good or bad, or what it is to triumph
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