Бронте Шарлотта
«Стихи сестер Бронте»

Что жизнь, что смерть – всегда храни

Спокойствие души.

I'll not weep that thou art going to leave me,

There's nothing lovely here;

And doubly will the dark world grieve me,

While thy heart suffers there.

I'll not weep because the summer's glory

Must allways end in gloom;

And, follow out the happiest story -

It closes with a tomb !

And I am weary of the anguish

Increasing winters bear;

Weary to watch the spirit languish

Through years of dead despair.

So, if a tear, when thou art dying,

Should haply fall from me,

It is but that my soul is sighing,

To go and rest with thee.

Не плачу – с окончаньем жеста

Любви пришел конец;

Нет больше в темном мире места

Для наших двух сердец.

Не плачу, ибо прелесть лета

До осени видна;

И значит, наша песня спета -

Все выпито до дна !

И я устала от разлуки,

От сумрачной зимы;

Устала от душевной муки,

От безнадежной тьмы.

И если плакала сначала,

Встав на твоем пути -

Ну что ж, душа моя желала

Вслед за тобой уйти.

Well, some may hate, and some may scorn,

And some may quite forget thy name;

But my sad heart must ever mourn

Thy ruined hopes, thy blighted fame !

'Twas thus I thought, an hour ago,

Even weeping o'er that weretch's woe;

One word turned back my gushing tears,

And lif my aftered eye with sneers.

Then 'Bless the friendly dust', I said,

'That hides thy unlamented head !

Vain as thou werf, and week as vain,

The slave of Falsehood, Pride and Pain, -

My heart has nought akin to thine;

Thy soul is powerless over mine.'

But these were thouhts that vanished too;

Unwise, unholy and untrue:

Do, I despise the timid deer,

Becouse his limbs are fleet with feer ?

Or, would I mock the wolf's death-howl,

Becouse his form is gauht and foul ?

Or, hear with joy the leveret's cry,

Becouse it cannot bravely die ?

No ! Then above