Искусствоед
Fernando Pessoa
The Mad Fiddler (Pessoa's English Poetry)
1. The Mad Fiddler
6. Dream
It was somewhere secluded
In silence and moon.
All like a lagoon.
No cares there intruded
Save the vague wind's swoon.
Landscape intermediate
Between dreams and land.
The wind slept, calm‑fanned.
The waters were weedy at
Where we plunged our hand.
We let the hand wander
In the water unseen.
Our eyes were with th' sheen
Of the moonlit meander
Of the forest scene.
There we lost the spirit
Of our still being we.
We were fairy‑free,
Having to inherit
Nothing from to be.
The fairies there and the elves
Damasked their moonlit train.
There we shall awhile gain
All the elusive selves
We never can obtain.
("The Mad Fiddler")
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5
The Mad Fiddler (Pessoa's English Poetry)
1. The Mad Fiddler
6. Dream
It was somewhere secluded
In silence and moon.
All like a lagoon.
No cares there intruded
Save the vague wind's swoon.
Landscape intermediate
Between dreams and land.
The wind slept, calm‑fanned.
The waters were weedy at
Where we plunged our hand.
We let the hand wander
In the water unseen.
Our eyes were with th' sheen
Of the moonlit meander
Of the forest scene.
There we lost the spirit
Of our still being we.
We were fairy‑free,
Having to inherit
Nothing from to be.
The fairies there and the elves
Damasked their moonlit train.
There we shall awhile gain
All the elusive selves
We never can obtain.
("The Mad Fiddler")
1
2
3
4
5