James Stephens

Do not forget my charge I beg of you ;
That of what flow'rs you find of fairest
And sweetest odor you do gather
Are best of all the best — a fragrant rose,

Там, на холме, кентавры играли втроем.
Подняв копыто, каждый взглянул на меня
И топнул ногой!И топнул ногой! И воздух ловил чутьем...
Движенья их гордые были полны огня,…

IN
HE scented bud of the morning—O,
When the windy grass went rippling far, I saw my dear one walking slow,
In the field where the daisies are.

EN the leaves fall off the trees Everybody walks on them :
Once they had a time of ease High above, and every breeze Used to stay and talk to them.
Then they were so debonair As they fluttered up and down ;
Dancing in the sunny air

The wind stood up and gave a shout.
He whistled on his fingers and Kicked the withered leaves about And thumped the branches with his hand And said that he'd kill and kill,
And so he will and so he will.

The crooked paths go every way Upon the hill — they wind about Through the heather in and out
Of the quiet sunniness.
And there the goats, day after day,
Stray in sunny quietness

So Eden was deserted, and at eve Into the quiet place God came to grieve.
His face was sad,
His hands hung slackly down Along his robe; too sorrowful to frown He paced along the grassy paths and through The silent trees, and where the…

I saw God.
Do you doubt it?
Do you dare to doubt it?
I saw the Almighty Man.

The night was creeping on the ground;
She crept and did not make a sound
Until she reached the tree, and then
She covered it, and sole again…

Mad Patsy said, he said to me,
That every morning he could
An angel walking on the sky;
Across the sunny skies of

Every Sunday there's a throng
Of pretty girls, who trot along
In a pious, breathless state
(They are nearly always late)

ND then I pressed the shell Close to my ear And listened well,
And straightway like a bell Came low and clear
The slow, sad murmur of the distant seas,
Whipped by an icy breeze Upon a shore Wind-swept and desolate.

II cling and
On a branch, or
Through the cool, clear hush of Morning,
O!

I am the maker,
The builder, the breaker,
The eagle-winged helper,
The speedy forsaker!

My enemy came nigh,
And I Stared fiercely in his face.
My lips went writhing back in a grimace,
And stern I watched him with a narrow eye.

I thought I heard Him calling.
Did you hear A sound, a little sound?
My curious ear Is dinned with flying noises, and the tree Goes — whisper, whisper, whisper silently Till all its whispers spread into the sound Of a dull…

I heard a bird at dawn
Singing sweetly on a tree,
That the dew was on the lawn,
And the wind was on the lea;

I hear a sudden cry of pain!
There is a rabbit in a snare:
Now I hear the cry again,
But I cannot tell from where.

Playing upon the hill three centaurs were!
They lifted each a hoof! They stared at me
And stamped the dust!They stamped the dust! They snuffed upon the air!
And all their movements had the fierce glee…

I was playing with my hoop along the
Just where the bushes are, when, suddenly,
There came a shout, -- I ran away and
Myself beneath a bush, and watched to see What made the noise, and then, around the bend,

The lanky hank of a she in the inn over
Nearly killed me for asking the loan of a glass of beer:
May the devil grip the whey-faced slut by the
And beat bad manners out of her skin for a year.

Come with me, under my coat,
And we will drink our
Of the milk of the white goat,
Or wine, if it be thy will;