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Into My Own

Into My Own
      
      One of my wishes is that those dark trees,
      So old and firm they scarcely show the breeze,
      Were not, as 'twere, the merest mask of gloom,
      But stretched away unto the edge of doom.
      
      I should not be withheld but that some day
      Into their vastness I should steal away,
      Fearless of ever finding open land,
      Or highway where the slow wheel pours the sand.
      
      I do not see why I should e'er turn back,
      Or those should not set forth upon my track
      To overtake me, who should miss me here
      And long to know if still I held them dear.
      
      They would not find me changed from him the knew--
      Only more sure of all I though was true.


Стою над бездной среди мглы и мха,
Как над обрывом  темная ольха...
Приличья - маска, в сердце камнепад,
Мои желанья гибель мне сулят.

Не мучь, не останавливай - уйду,
Очаг разрушу - солнце украду!
Так на шоссе теряешь колесо,
Мгновенно понимая: вот и все...

След прошлого - засохшая сирень...
Брось, не гонись за мною, словно тень,
Сквозь призму лет давно не властна Власть,
Когда влечет к себе иная страсть,

Не изменить себе, судьба - маршрут,
Я - ложь и правда, что во мне живут.

 Robert Frost
Перевод Воронина Татьяна





 




Братья Лимбург

http://allpainters.ru/limburg-bratja/35126-the-man-of-sorrows-bratya-limburg.html

 


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January 2020

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