Thomas Hood

It was not in the Winter Our loving lot was cast;
It was the time of roses— We pluck’d them as we pass’d!
That churlish season never frown’d On early lovers yet:
O no—the world was newly crown’d With flowers when first we met!’Twas…

I.Alas! That breathing Vanity should go
Where Pride is buried,--like its very ghost,
Uprisen from the naked bones below,
In novel flesh, clad in the silent boast…

Oh, 'tis a touching thing, to make one weep,— A tender infant with its curtain'd eye,
Breathing as it would neither live nor die With that unchanging countenance of sleep!
As if its silent dream, serene and deep,
Had lined its…

I heard a gentle maiden, in the spring,
Set her sweet sighs to music, and thus sing:
"Fly through the world, and I will follow thee,
Only for looks that may turn back on me;"Only for roses that your chance may throw--…

Горношотландский алкогольный напитокНемец выпил «А́тол Броз»
И, растроганный до слёз,
Прорычал: «Шотландец, брат!»
«Атол Броз»-ершафт! Виват!© Перевод Евг. Фельдмана…

I.Oh, when I was a tiny boy,
My days and nights were full of joy,
My mates were blithe and kind!--
No wonder that I sometimes sigh,…

AN ALLEGORY.There’s a murmur in the air,
And noise in every street –
The murmur of many tongues,
The noise of numerous feet –…

Поздравляя с Новым годом,
Хорошо бы, джентльмены,
Если б нынче с новой шляпой
Вы могли меня поздравить.Пожелайте долголетья…

Look how the golden ocean shines above Its pebbly stones, and magnifies their girth;
So does the bright and blessed light of Love Its own things glorify, and raise their worth.
As weeds seem flowers beneath the flattering…

The sun was slumbering in the West,
My daily labors past;
On Anna's soft and gentle breast My head reclined at last;
The darkness closed around, so dear To fond congenial souls,

СонетСтал буйный ветер мантией моей,
Соломы клок мне троном стал в изгнанье;
От слёз ослепнув, я не в состоянье
Узреть глаза коварных дочерей.Приди ж ко мне, безумие, скорей…

Нам невозможно разлучиться!
И если есть в душе моей
Хоть капля сил, душа примчится
К тебе за тридевять морей!Я получил урок жестокий,…

When would-be Suicides in purpose fail,
Who could not find a morsel though they needed –
If Peter sends them for attempts to jail,
What would he do to them if they succeeded?

The Autumn skies are flushed with gold,
Add fair and bright the rivers run;
These are but streams of winter cold,
And painted mists that quench the sun.In secret boughs no sweet birds sing,…

'Twas in the prime of summer-time An evening calm and cool,
And four-and-twenty happy boys Came bounding out of school:
There were some that ran and some that leapt,
Like troutlets in a pool.

The swallow with summer
Will wing o’er the seas,
The wind that I sigh to
Will visit thy trees.…

There is a silence where hath been no sound,
There is a silence where no sound may be,
In the cold grave—under the deep deep sea,
Or in wide desert where no life is found,

WRITTEN IN A VOLUME OF SHAKSPEARE.How bravely Autumn paints upon the sky
The gorgeous fame of Summer which is fled!
Hues of all flow'rs, that in their ashes lie,
Trophied in that fair light whereon they fed,--…

As human fashions change about,
The reign of Fools should now begin,
For when the Wigs are going out
The Naturals are coming in.

I 'Twas in that mellow season of the year When the hot sun singes the yellow leaves Till they be gold,—and with a broader sphere The Moon looks down on Ceres and her sheaves;
When more abundantly the spider weaves,
And the cold wind…

– Зачем он рыдал на могиле жены,
Грязнули, сквалыги, брюзги, сатаны?
– Рыдал, чтобы прах её щедро намок
И впредь над могилой подняться не мог.© Перевод Евг. Фельдмана…

Thou happy, happy elf!
(But stop,—first let me kiss away that tear—)
Thou tiny image of myself!
(My love, he's poking peas into his ear!)…

A sorry tale, of sorry plans,
Which this conclusion grants,
That Affghan clans had all the Khans
And we had all the cant’s.

Young ardent soul, graced with fair Nature's truth,
Spring warmth of heart, and fervency of mind,
And still a large late love of all thy kind.
Spite of the world's cold practice and Time's tooth,— For all these gifts