avatarakali (avatarakali) wrote,

Поэзия на английском - Moody Blues, Starbuck, Dorothy Parker, Ruskin Bond etc etc

А сегодня у нас вечер поэзии на английском.
Говорят, язык становится "родным" тогда, когда начинаешь впитывать поэзию на этом языке. Не просто песни, а именно - умение запоминать стихи, чувствовать тонкость языка в стихах.

Мое знакомство с поэзией на английском началось еще на лицейских уроках английского,
Robert Burns, с простого

O my Luve's like a red, red rose
That's newly sprung in June;
O my Luve's like the melodie
That's sweetly play'd in tune.

Потом я перешла на более сложные тексты, книги.
Псалмы Библии - сначала я узнала о них на английском, и только потом - на русском.

Сегодня в rusam спросили про американскую прозу, и "Остапа понесло" - стала вспоминать то, что зацепилось в памяти, осталось образами и всполохами слов.


  • Мoody Blues
    Late Lament

    Breathe deep the gathering gloom,
    Watch lights fade from every room.
    Bedsitter people look back and lament,
    Another day's useless energy spent.
    Impassioned lovers wrestle as one,
    Lonely man cries for love and has none.
    New mother picks up and suckles her son,
    Senior citizens wish they were young.

    Cold hearted orb that rules the night,
    Removes the colours from our sight.
    Red is grey and yellow white,
    But we decide which is right.
    And which is an illusion???

  • Сериал Battlestar Galactica меня - отразил. Там такая Кэра Трейс, что ее образ как раз незабываем, как она и хотела, когда говорила "I want to be remembered"
    И вот, оттуда же:



    Methodically smoking my cigarette
    Every breath I breathe out the day
    With every delicious sip
    I drink away the night
    Stroking my hair to
    The beat of his heart
    Watching a boy turn into a man


  • У индийцев популярен писатель и поэт Ruskin Bond
    То, что я впервые у него прочитала из поэзии -
    "Танец одинокой лисы"


    As I walked home last night
    I saw a lone fox dancing
    In the cold moonlight.

    I stood and watched. Then
    Took the low road, knowing
    The night was his by right.

    Sometimes, when words ring true,
    I'm like a lone fox dancing
    In the morning dew.

    + It isn't time that's passing by,
    It is you and I....

  • Классика: Do not stand at my grave and weep или на русском Не стой и не плачь над могилой

    Do not stand at my grave and weep,
    I am not there; I do not sleep.
    I am a thousand winds that blow,
    I am the diamond glints on snow,
    I am the sun on ripened grain,
    I am the gentle autumn rain.
    When you awaken in the morning’s hush
    I am the swift uplifting rush
    Of quiet birds in circling flight.
    I am the soft star-shine at night.
    Do not stand at my grave and cry,
    I am not there; I did not die.

  • Oдно из запомнившихся у Robert Frost
    The Road Not Taken

    The Road Not Taken
    by Robert Frost

    Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
    And sorry I could not travel both
    And be one traveler, long I stood
    And looked down one as far as I could
    To where it bent in the undergrowth;

    Then took the other, as just as fair,
    And having perhaps the better claim,
    Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
    Though as for that the passing there
    Had worn them really about the same,

    And both that morning equally lay
    In leaves no step had trodden black.
    Oh, I kept the first for another day!
    Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
    I doubted if I should ever come back.

    I shall be telling this with a sigh
    Somewhere ages and ages hence:
    Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
    I took the one less traveled by,
    And that has made all the difference.

  • Несравненная Dorothy Parker

    Indian Summer

    In youth, it was a way I had
    To do my best to please,
    And change, with every passing lad,
    To suit his theories.

    But now I know the things I know,
    And do the things I do;
    And if you do not like me so,
    To hell, my love, with you!


    They hail you as their morning star
    Because you are the way you are.
    If you return the sentiment,
    They'll try to make you different;
    And once they have you, safe and sound,
    They want to change you all around.
    Your moods and ways they put a curse on;
    They'd make of you another person.
    They cannot let you go your gait;
    They influence and educate.
    They'd alter all that they admired.
    They make me sick, they make me tired.

  • Ну и мое, беговое

  • Hotel room
    By Rhian Gallagher

    It is a room just off to the side of our lives
    newly emptied. Our small clutter spills
    across polished surfaces as we fill up the vacancy.
    Halt of a lift, voices that come through walls like a cloud,
    no-one lives here. It is a room with no country.
    Our half-emptied bags wearing yesterday’s flight tags,
    the room makes loud its limitation yet
    holds out hours and gives us passport. Space.

    All around are towers, floors of rooms, window
    squares of light. The city sounds, loading, unloading.
    We draw the curtains on a night that is wide as the Atlantic.

    Что-то еще вспоминается иногда, от случая к случаю, но специально я не читаю, не ищу стихи на английском - просто иногда они находят меня. Иногда пишу на английском.

    Поделитесь стихами на английском, какие нравятся вам?
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