Озеро
Я часто на рассвете дней
Любил, скрываясь от людей,
В глухой забраться уголок,
Где был блаженно одинок
У озера, средь черных скал,
Где сосен строй кругом стоял.
Но лишь стелила полог свой
Ночь надо мной и над землей
И ветер веял меж дерев,
Шепча таинственный напев,
Как в темной сонной тишине
Рождался странный страх во мне
И этот страх мне сладок был
То чувство я б не объяснил
Ни за сокровища морей,
Ни за любовь, что всех сильней,
Будь даже та любовь твоей.
Таилась смерть в глухой волне,
Ждала могила в глубине
Того, кто здесь, томим тоской,
Мечтал найти душе покой
И мог бы, одинок и нем,
У мрачных вод обресть Эдем.
Эдгар По перевод Г.Бена
In spring of youth it was my lot
To haunt of the wide world a spot
The which I could not love the less-
So lovely was the loneliness
Of a wild lake, with black rock bound,
And the tall pines that towered around.
But when the Night had thrown her pall
Upon that spot, as upon all,
And the mystic wind went by
Murmuring in melody-
Then-ah then I would awake
To the terror of the lone lake.
Yet that terror was not fright,
But a tremulous delight-
A feeling not the jewelled mine
Could teach or bribe me to define-
Nor Love-although the Love were thine.
Death was in that poisonous wave,
And in its gulf a fitting grave
For him who thence could solace bring
To his lone imagining-
Whose solitary soul could make
An Eden of that dim lake.
Lake
I often at dawn days
Loved hiding from people
In the deaf climb the corner,
Where was blissfully alone
At the lake, the middle of the black cliffs,
Where the pines have stood a circle.
But only chalived his color
Night I have to go on the ground
And the wind has sleighing between
Whispering mysterious tunes
As in dark sleepy silence
Born a strange fear in me
And this fear I was sweet to me
That feeling I would not explain
No treasure seas
For the love that everyone is stronger,
Be even the love of yours.
Death in the deaf wave was buried
Waited for the grave in the depths
Of the one who is here, Tommovy,
Dreamed to find soul peace
And could, alone and him
Gloomy waters come to Eden.
Edgar by the translation of Ben
In Spring Of Youth It Was My Lot
To Haunt Of The Wide World A Spot
The Which I Could Not Love The Less-
So Lovely Was The Loneliness
Of a Wild Lake, with Black Rock Bound,
And The Tall Pines That Towered Around.
But When the Night Had Thrown Her Pall
Upon That Spot, As Upon All,
And The Mystic Wind Went By
Murmuring in Melody-
THEN-AH THEN I WOULD AWAKE
To The Terror of the Lone Lake.
Yet That Terror Was Not Fright
But a Tremulous Delight-
A Feeling Not The Jewelled Mine
Could Teach or Bribe Me to Define
Nor Love-Although The Love Were Thine.
DEATH WAS IN THAT POISONOUS WAVE
AND IN ITS GULF A FITTING GRAVE
For Him Who That Could Solace Bring
To His Lone Imagining
Whose Solitary Soul Could Make
An Eden of That Dim Lake.
