William Ernest Henley

Гудит эпоха и кружится,
Один засох, другой цветёт,
Одним терять, другим нажиться,
Кому закат, кому восход,…

Exceeding tall, but built so well his height
Half-disappears in flow of chest and limb;
Moustache and whisker trooper-like in trim;
Frank-faced, frank-eyed, frank-hearted; always bright…

To Garryowen upon an organ ground
Two girls are jigging. Riotously they trip,
With eyes aflame, quick bosoms, hand on hip,
As in the tumult of a witches’ round.…

As with varnish red and
Dripped his hair; his feet looked rigid;
Raised, he settled stiffly sideways:
You could see his hurts were spinal.

Gulls in an aëry morrice
Gleam and vanish and gleam . . .
The full sea, sleepily basking,
Dreams under skies of dream.Gulls in an aëry morrice…

To M. M. M‘B.Above the Crags that fade and gloom
Starts the bare knee of Arthur's Seat;
Ridged high against the evening bloom,
The Old Town rises, street on street;…

Crosses and troubles a-many have proved me.
One or two women (God bless them) have loved me.
I have worked and dreamed, and I’ve talked at will.
Of art and drink I have had my fill.…

Life is bitter. All the faces of the years,
Young and old, are grey with travail and with tears.
Must we only wake to toil, to tire, to weep?
In the sun, among the leaves, upon the flowers,…

It came with the threat of a waning moon
And the wail of an ebbing tide,
But many a woman has lived for less,
And many a man has died;…

'Talk of pluck!' pursued the Sailor,
Set at euchre on his elbow,'I was on the wharf at Charleston,
Just ashore from off the runner.'It was grey and dirty weather,
And I heard a drum go rolling

The gaunt brown walls
Look infinite in their decent meanness.
There is nothing of home in the noisy kettle,
The fulsome fire.The atmosphere…

To A. J.A black and glassy float, opaque and still,
The loch, at furthest ebb supine in sleep,
Reversing, mirrored in its luminous deep
The calm grey skies; the solemn spurs of hill;…

She sauntered by the swinging seas,
A jewel glittered at her ear,
And, teasing her along, the breeze
Brought many a rounded grace more near.So passing, one with wave and beam,…

You are carried in a basket,
Like a carcase from the shambles,
To the theatre, a
Where they stretch you on a table.

As with varnish red and glistening
Dripped his hair; his feet looked rigid;
Raised, he settled stiffly sideways:
You could see his hurts were spinal.He had fallen from an engine,…

The ways of Death are soothing and serene,
And all the words of Death are grave and sweet.
From camp and church, the fireside and the street,
She beckons forth – and strife and song have been.

The shadow of Dawn;
Stillness and stars and over-mastering dreams
Of Life and Death and Sleep;
Heard over gleaming flats, the old, unchanging sound…

A square, squat room (a cellar on promotion),
Drab to the soul, drab to the very daylight;
Plasters astray in unnatural-looking tinware;
Scissors and lint and apothecary’s jars.Here, on a bench a skeleton would writhe from,…

To K. de M.Love blows as the wind blows,
Love blows into the heart.—Nile Boat-Song.Life in her creaking shoes
Goes, and more formal grows,
A round of calls and cues:…

Out of the starless night that covers me,
(O tribulation of the wind that rolls!)
Black as the cloud of some tremendous spell,
The susurration of the sighing sea…

The ways are green with the gladdening sheen
Of the young year's fairest daughter.
O, the shadows that fleet o'er the springing wheat!
O, the magic of running water!…

Two and thirty is the ploughman.
He's a man of gallant inches,
And his hair is close and curly,
And his beard;

Ты покупаешь? Продаёшь?
Слоняй? Напёрсточник? Ворюга?
Шпион? Доносчик? Сдать за грош
Готов и недруга и друга?…

Some three, or five, or seven, and thirty years;
A Roman nose; a dimpling double-chin;
Dark eyes and shy that, ignorant of sin,
Are yet acquainted, it would seem, with tears;