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Записи с темой: f (список заголовков)
00:01 

Lika_k
Искусствоед
Robert Frost
The Pasture

I'm going out to clean the pasture spring;
I'll only stop to rake the leaves away
(And wait to watch the water clear, I may):
I sha'n't be gone long,--You come too.

I'm going out to fetch the little calf
That's standing by the mother. It's so young,
It totters when she licks it with her tongue.
I sha'n't be gone long,--You come too.

@темы: frost, robert, f, english-american, 20

06:40 

Lika_k
Искусствоед
Eugene Field
Lady Button-Eyes

When the busy day is done,
And my weary little one
Rocketh gently to and fro;
When the night winds softly blow,
And the crickets in the glen
Chirp and chirp and chirp again;
When upon the haunted green
Fairies dance around their queen -
Then from yonder misty skies
Cometh Lady Button-Eyes.

Through the murk and mist and gloam
To our quiet, cozy home,
Where to singing, sweet and low,
Rocks a cradle to and fro;
Where the clock's dull monotone
Telleth of the day that's done;
Where the moonbeams hover o'er
Playthings sleeping on the floor -
Where my weary wee one lies
Cometh Lady Button-Eyes.

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@темы: 19, english-american, f

00:27 

Lika_k
Искусствоед
San Francesco di Assisi
Il Cantico delle Creature

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Св. Франциск Ассизский
Песнь брату Солнцу, или Хвалы творений

Всевышний, Всемогущий благой Владыка
Тебе – хвалы, и слава, и честь, и всякое благодаренье.
Тебе одному, о Всевышний, они подобают,
и ни один человек именовать Тебя не достоин.

Прославлен будь, мой Господи, со всем Твоим твореньем,
особенно с господином братом Солнцем,
который являет день и которым Ты нас озаряешь.
И сам он красив и, лучась великим сияньем,
собой знаменует Тебя, о Всевышний.

Прославлен будь, мой Господи, за сестру Луну и за звезды,
которые в небесах сотворил Ты: ясны, драгоценны они и прекрасны.

Прославлен будь, мой Господи, за брата Ветра,
за воздух, и тучи, и вéдрие, и любую погоду,
через которую пищу даешь Ты Твоим созданьям.

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© Перевод со староитальянского Петра Сахарова

@темы: 13, f, italian, links, ф

00:01 

Lika_k
Искусствоед
Dino Frescobaldi
Un’alta stella di nova bellezza,
che del sol ci to’ l’ombra la sua luce,
nel ciel d’Amor di tanta virtù luce,
che m’innamora de la sua chiarezza.
E poi si trova di tanta ferezza,
vedendo come nel cor mi traluce,
c’ha preso, con que’ raggi ch’ella ’nduce,
nel fermamento la maggior altezza.
E come donna questa nova stella
10sembianti fa che ’l mi’ viver le spiace
e per disdegno cotanto è salita.
Amor, che ne la mente mi favella,
del lume di costei saette face
e segno fa de la mia poca vita.


Дино Фрескобальди
Высокий свет невиданно прекрасной
Звезды, затмившей солнце и светила,
Что небеса Амора осветила,
Пленил меня своей красою ясной.

И, надо мною будучи всевластной,
И, возгордясь, что сердце мне прельстила,
На высшей тверди место захватила,
Луча свой блеск оттуда безучастный.

И как звезда, что вознеслась далече -
Так донна: жизнь моя сгубить желая,
Она блестит в надменном возвышеньи.

Амором, что мои внушает речи,
Иссечена из света донны злая
Стрела - он жизнь мою избрал мишенью.

пер. Шломо Крол (sentjao)

@темы: 13, f, italian, links, middle centuries, sonnet, ф

10:40 

Lika_k
Искусствоед
Robert Frost
An Old Man’s Winter Night

All out of doors looked darkly in at him
Through the thin frost, almost in separate stars,
That gathers on the pane in empty rooms.
What kept his eyes from giving back the gaze
Was the lamp tilted near them in his hand.
What kept him from remembering what it was
That brought him to that creaking room was age.
He stood with barrels round him—at a loss.
And having scared the cellar under him
In clomping there, he scared it once again
In clomping off;—and scared the outer night,
Which has its sounds, familiar, like the roar
Of trees and crack of branches, common things,
But nothing so like beating on a box.
A light he was to no one but himself
Where now he sat, concerned with he knew what,
A quiet light, and then not even that.
He consigned to the moon,—such as she was,
So late-arising,—to the broken moon
As better than the sun in any case
For such a charge, his snow upon the roof,
His icicles along the wall to keep;
And slept. The log that shifted with a jolt
Once in the stove, disturbed him and he shifted,
And eased his heavy breathing, but still slept.
One aged man—one man—can’t fill a house,
A farm, a countryside, or if he can,
It’s thus he does it of a winter night.

@темы: english-american, 20, frost, robert, f

07:40 

Lika_k
Искусствоед
Robert Frost
Dust of Snow

The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree

Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.

@темы: frost, robert, f, english-american, 20

08:25 

Lika_k
Искусствоед
Robert Francis
Summons

Keep me from going to sleep too soon
Or if I go to sleep too soon
Come wake me up. Come any hour
Of night. Come whistling up the road.
Stomp on the porch. Bang on the door.
Make me get out of bed and come
And let you in and light a light.
Tell me the northern lights are on
And make me look. Or tell me clouds
Are doing something to the moon
They never did before, and show me.
See that I see. Talk to me till
I'm half as wide awake as you
And start to dress wondering why
I ever went to bed at all.
Tell me the walking is superb.
Not only tell me but persuade me.
You know I'm not too hard persuaded.

@темы: 20, english-american, f

06:20 

Lika_k
Искусствоед
Robert Francis
Silent Poem

backroad leafmold stonewall chipmunk
underbrush grapevine woodchuck shadblow

woodsmoke cowbarn honeysuckle woodpile
sawhorse bucksaw outhouse wellsweep

backdoor flagstone bulkhead buttermilk
candlestick ragrug firedog brownbread

hilltop outcrop cowbell buttercup
whetstone thunderstorm pitchfork steeplebush

gristmill millstone cornmeal waterwheel
watercress buckwheat firefly jewelweed

gravestone groundpine windbreak bedrock
weathercock snowfall starlight cockcrow

@темы: 20, english-american, f

08:44 

Lika_k
Искусствоед
Anne Kingsmill Finch
A Nocturnal Reverie

In such a night, when every louder wind
Is to its distant cavern safe confined;
And only gentle Zephyr fans his wings,
And lonely Philomel, still waking, sings;
Or from some tree, famed for the owl's delight,
She, hollowing clear, directs the wand'rer right:
In such a night, when passing clouds give place,
Or thinly veil the heav'ns' mysterious face;
When in some river, overhung with green,
The waving moon and trembling leaves are seen;
When freshened grass now bears itself upright,
And makes cool banks to pleasing rest invite,
Whence springs the woodbind, and the bramble-rose,
And where the sleepy cowslip sheltered grows;
Whilst now a paler hue the foxglove takes,
Yet checkers still with red the dusky brakes
When scattered glow-worms, but in twilight fine,
Shew trivial beauties watch their hour to shine;
Whilst Salisb'ry stands the test of every light,
In perfect charms, and perfect virtue bright:
When odors, which declined repelling day,
Through temp'rate air uninterrupted stray;
When darkened groves their softest shadows wear,
And falling waters we distinctly hear;
When through the gloom more venerable shows
Some ancient fabric, awful in repose,
While sunburnt hills their swarthy looks conceal,
And swelling haycocks thicken up the vale:
When the loosed horse now, as his pasture leads,
Comes slowly grazing through th' adjoining meads,
Whose stealing pace, and lengthened shade we fear,
Till torn-up forage in his teeth we hear:
When nibbling sheep at large pursue their food,
And unmolested kine rechew the cud;
When curlews cry beneath the village walls,
And to her straggling brood the partridge calls;
Their shortlived jubilee the creatures keep,
Which but endures, whilst tyrant man does sleep;
When a sedate content the spirit feels,
And no fierce light disturbs, whilst it reveals;
But silent musings urge the mind to seek
Something, too high for syllables to speak;
Till the free soul to a composedness charmed,
Finding the elements of rage disarmed,
O'er all below a solemn quiet grown,
Joys in th' inferior world, and thinks it like her own:
In such a night let me abroad remain,
Till morning breaks, and all's confused again;
Our cares, our toils, our clamors are renewed,
Or pleasures, seldom reached, again pursued.

@темы: f, english-british, 17, 18

10:44 

Lika_k
Искусствоед
Robert Frost
The Trial by Existence

Even the bravest that are slain
Shall not dissemble their surprise
On waking to find valor reign,
Even as on earth, in paradise;
And where they sought without the sword
Wide fields of asphodel fore’er,
To find that the utmost reward
Of daring should be still to dare.

The light of heaven falls whole and white
And is not shattered into dyes,
The light for ever is morning light;
The hills are verdured pasture-wise;
The angel hosts with freshness go,
And seek with laughter what to brave;—
And binding all is the hushed snow
Of the far-distant breaking wave.

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@темы: 20, frost, robert, f, english-american

12:21 

Lika_k
Искусствоед
Du Fu
Night Thoughts Afloat

By bent grasses in a gentle wind
Under straight mast I’m alone tonight,
And the stars hang above the broad plain
But moon‘s afloat in this Great River:
Oh, where’s my name among the poets?
Official rank? “Retired for ill-health”
Drifting, drifting, what am I more than
A single gull between sky and earth?

Transl. by Arthur Cooper

@темы: middle centuries, f, eastern, chinese, 8

10:16 

Lika_k
Искусствоед
Robert Frost
The Demiurge's Laugh

It was far in the sameness of the wood;
I was running with joy on the Demon’s trail,
Though I knew what I hunted was no true god.
It was just as the light was beginning to fail
That I suddenly heard—all I needed to hear:
It has lasted me many and many a year.

The sound was behind me instead of before,
A sleepy sound, but mocking half,
As of one who utterly couldn’t care.
The Demon arose from his wallow to laugh,
Brushing the dirt from his eye as he went;
And well I knew what the Demon meant.

I shall not forget how his laugh rang out.
I felt as a fool to have been so caught,
And checked my steps to make pretence
It was something among the leaves I sought
(Though doubtful whether he stayed to see).
Thereafter I sat me against a tree.

Роберт Фрост
Смех демиурга

То было в густой первозданности леса.
Я знал, что не богом она создана.
Я шел по следам окаянного беса,
Выслеживал беса в лесу дотемна.
И вдруг я услышал - услышал такое,
Что долгие годы не знаю покоя.

Не спереди звук доносился, а сзади -
Утробное бульканье из-под древес.
Забывчив и заспан, в похабном наряде,
Со смехом из лужи своей вылез бес,
С век грязь он соскреб - и мгновенно
я понял,
Что он меня вспомнил, заметил и пронял.

Вовек не забуду я этого смеха:
Ловец стал добычей - вот бесу потеха.
Я прянул - ему показать поскорей,
Мол, что-то ищу (не его!) меж ветвей,
А он меня принял за тень или эхо -
И пал я, пристыженный, возле корней.

Пер. В. Топоров

@темы: ф, frost, robert, f, english-american, 20

01:47 

Lika_k
Искусствоед
Robert Frost
Unharvested

A scent of ripeness from over a wall.
And come to leave the routine road
And look for what had made me stall,
There sure enough was an apple tree
That had eased itself of its summer load,
And of all but its trivial foliage free,
Now breathed as light as a lady's fan.
For there had been an apple fall
As complete as the apple had given man.
The ground was one circle of solid red.

May something go always unharvested!
May much stay out of our stated plan,
Apples or something forgotten and left,
So smelling their sweetness would be no theft.

@темы: f, english-american, 20, frost, robert

17:54 

Lika_k
Искусствоед
Robert Frost
Good Hours

I had for my winter evening walk—
No one at all with whom to talk,
But I had the cottages in a row
Up to their shining eyes in snow.

And I thought I had the folk within:
I had the sound of a violin;
I had a glimpse through curtain laces
Of youthful forms and youthful faces.

I had such company outward bound.
I went till there were no cottages found.
I turned and repented, but coming back
I saw no window but that was black.

Over the snow my creaking feet
Disturbed the slumbering village street
Like profanation, by your leave,
At ten o'clock of a winter eve.

@темы: english-american, 20, f

22:14 

Lika_k
Искусствоед
Robert Frost (1874–1963)
Good Hours
I had for my winter evening walk—
No one at all with whom to talk,
But I had the cottages in a row
Up to their shining eyes in snow.

And I thought I had the folk within:
I had the sound of a violin;
I had a glimpse through curtain laces
Of youthful forms and youthful faces.

I had such company outward bound.
I went till there were no cottages found.
I turned and repented, but coming back
I saw no window but that was black.

Over the snow my creaking feet
Disturbed the slumbering village street
Like profanation, by your leave,
At ten o’clock of a winter eve.

1914

@темы: frost, robert, f, english-american, 20

13:35 

Lika_k
Искусствоед
“Poets say science takes away from the beauty of the stars—mere globs of gas atoms. I too can see the stars on a desert night, and feel them. But do I see less or more? The vastness of the heavens stretches my imagination—stuck on this carousel my little eye can catch one-million-year-old light. A vast pattern—of which I am a part … What is the pattern, or the meaning, or the why? It does not do harm to the mystery to know a little about it. For far more marvelous is the truth than any artists of the past imagined it. Why do the poets of the present not speak of it? What men are poets who can speak of Jupiter if he were a man, but if he is an immense spinning sphere of methane and ammonia must be silent?”
(c) Richard P. Feynman

Поэт-ученый и ироничный романтик:
Theodore Stephanides 1
Theodore Stephanides 2
Theodore Stephanides 3
Theodore Stephanides 4
Theodore Stephanides 5
Theodore Stephanides 6
Theodore Stephanides 7
Theodore Stephanides 8
Theodore Stephanides 9

Theodore Stephanides 10
Theodore Stephanides 11
Theodore Stephanides 12

@темы: links, helenike, f, english-other, english, citatus, 20, ...logy, s, theodore stephanides

14:15 

Lika_k
Искусствоед
“Poets say science takes away from the beauty of the stars—mere globs of gas atoms. I too can see the stars on a desert night, and feel them. But do I see less or more? The vastness of the heavens stretches my imagination—stuck on this carousel my little eye can catch one-million-year-old light. A vast pattern—of which I am a part … What is the pattern, or the meaning, or the why? It does not do harm to the mystery to know a little about it. For far more marvelous is the truth than any artists of the past imagined it. Why do the poets of the present not speak of it? What men are poets who can speak of Jupiter if he were a man, but if he is an immense spinning sphere of methane and ammonia must be silent?”
(c) Richard P. Feynman

Поэт-ученый и ироничный романтик:
Theodore Stephanides 1
Theodore Stephanides 2
Theodore Stephanides 3
Theodore Stephanides 4
Theodore Stephanides 5
Theodore Stephanides 6
Theodore Stephanides 7
Theodore Stephanides 8
Theodore Stephanides 9

Theodore Stephanides 10
Theodore Stephanides 11
запись создана: 31.01.2014 в 14:02

@темы: links, helenike, f, english, citatus, 20, poetry, s

17:07 

Lika_k
Искусствоед
Josep Vicenç Foix (1893-1987)
Shadows behind the lilacs

A thousand pink wings covered up the sky. Doors and windows were closed, and flags and pennants fluttered at each street corner. The oval shadow escaped up the street with horrifying majesty. The next morning, all the statuettes of saints in the parish had been decapitated.

Boys and girls from my village, their pallid nudity barely concealed under tender gauze of subtle colors, played on the plaza at night. Their voice resounds there as in a cellar, and birds are gathering to explore the depth of the bluish ponds of their eyes with their beaks. The other day I tried to join them in play by imitating the voice with a megaphone; but the boys, girls and birds turned to shadows among shadows. Before me, between the deserted plaza and the sky, a wire spiral rose, tragic and treacherous.
(From: Ombres darrera els lilàs)
Translated from Catalan by Johannes Beilharz

@темы: espanol, 20, f

13:23 

Poesia
Gieb ihr ein Schweigen (c)
Gerhard Fritsch (1924-1969)
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Герхард Фрич
Не за пряником колдуньи
мы отправились в лес.
Ветх и стар ее пряничный домик.
Здесь, где из земли вырастают гробы и кровати,
одни лишь ягоды сладки.
В них еще сохранилась частица
сладости нашего детства,
и мы кормимся ею в пути.
Страхи былого
таились под мхами лесными.
И вот прозрачною влагой
они убегают в долину
под подошвами наших ног.

Пойдем же,
утешим колдунью.
(австрия)
пер. В. Вебера

Engelbert Humperdinck - Hänsel und Gretel

@темы: music, f, deutsche, 20, youtube, ф

14:22 

Lika_k
Искусствоед
Mary Elizabeth Frye
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.
1932

@темы: 20, english, f

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