| Стихи. (В переводах разных авторов) | страница 94 | Мир поэзии
Мир поэзии Поиск книг    О проекте    Обратная связь    Размещение рекламы

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

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

A thin grey man half lost in gathering night.




Druid. What would you, king of the proud Red Branch kings?




Fergus. This would I say, most wise of living souls:


Young subtle Conchubar sat close by me


When I gave judgment, and his words were wise,


And what to me was burden without end,


To him seemed easy, So I laid the crown


Upon his head to cast away my sorrow.




Druid. What would you, king of the proud Red Branch kings?




Fergus. A king and proud! and that is my despair.


I feast amid my people on the hill,


And pace the woods, and drive my chariot-wheels


In the white border of the murmuring sea;


And still I feel the crown upon my head




Druid. What would you, Fergus?




Fergus. Be no more a king


But learn the dreaming wisdom that is yours.




Druid. Look on my thin grey hair and hollow cheeks


And on these hands that may not lift the sword,


This body trembling like a wind-blown reed.


No woman's loved me, no man sought my help.




Fergus. A king is but a foolish labourer


Who wastes his blood to

Назад  

стр.313

  Вперед
Наши спонсоры:
Назад  

стр.313

  Вперед