Andreyfrolow

Тропинками Магдалены

Средняя оценка: 6 (1 vote)

 Magdalen Walks

The little white clouds are racing over the sky,
And the fields are strewn with the gold of the flower of March,
The daffodil breaks under foot, and the tasselled larch
Sways and swings as the thrush goes hurrying by.

A delicate odour is borne on the wings of the morning 
breeze,

Равенна, Оскар Уайльд

Средняя оценка: 9 (1 vote)

 Ravenna [More Titles by Wilde] 
                                  Перевод Андрея Фролова

(Newdigate prize poem recited in 
the Sheldonian Theatre Oxford June 26th, 1878.

To my friend George Fleming author of 'The Nile Novel' and 'Mirage'

Ave imperatrix, Перевод А. Фролова

 Аve Imperatrix

Set in this stormy Northern sea,
Queen of these restless fields of tide,
England! what shall men say of thee,
Before whose feet the worlds divide?

The earth, a brittle globe of glass,
Lies in the hollow of thy hand,
And through its heart of crystal pass,
Like shadows through a twilight land,

Cфинкс

Средняя оценка: 5 (2 votes)
Полное имя автора: 
Оскар Уайльд, Oscar Wilde
Информация о произведении
Полное название: 
The Sphinx
Дата создания: 
1894
The Sphinx by Oscar Wilde
(To Marcel Schwob in friendship and in admiration)
In a dim corner of my room for longer than
my fancy thinks
A beautiful and silent Sphinx has watched me
through the shifting gloom.

Inviolate and immobile she does not rise she
does not stir  

SELENTIUM AMORIS

 Андрей Фролов 
(Переводы О. Уальда)

  SELENTIUM AMORIS 
  (MОЛЧАНИЕ ЛЮБВИ)

As often-times the too resplendent sun
Hurries the pallid and reluctant moon
Back to her somber cave, ere she hath won
A single ballad from the nightingale,

Апология

 Андрей Фролов 
 (Переводы стихов О. Уальда)

  APOLOGIA 

Is it thy will that I should wax and wane,
Barter my cloth of gold for hodden grey,
And at thy pleasure weave that web of pain
Whose brightest threads are each a wasted day?

Impressions

 О. Уальд
Перевод Андрея Фролова 

Impressions (фр.)
  I.
  Les silhouettes

The sea is flecked with bars of gray,
The dull dead wind is out of tune,
And like a withered leaf the moon
Is blown across the stormy bay.

Etched clear upon the pallid sand

Impression du matin

Средняя оценка: 4 (1 vote)

 О. Уальд
пер. А. Фролова

  IMPRESSION DU MATIN 

The Thames nocturne of blue and gold
Changed to a Harmony in grey:
A barge with ochre-colored hay
Dropt from the wharf: and chill and cold

The yellow fog came creeping down
The bridges, till the houses’ walls

В золотых покоях

 Андрей Фролов 
 (Переводы О. Уальда)

In The Gold Room - A Harmony 

Her ivory hands on the ivory keys
Strayed in a fitful fantasy,
Like the silver gleam when the poplar trees
Rustle their pale-leaves listlessly,
Or the drifting foam of a restless sea

К Мильтону

 Андрей Фролов 
 (Переводы стихов О. Уальда)

  TO MILTON 

Milton! I think thy spirit hath passed away
From these white cliffs, and high-embattled towers;
This gorgeous fiery-colored world of ours
Seems fallen into ashes dull and grey,

Сонет к свободе

Средняя оценка: 4 (1 vote)

 Андрей Фролов 
 (Переводы стихов О. Уальда)

  SONNET TO LIBERTY 

Not that I love the children, whose dull eyes
See nothing save their own unlovely woe,
Whose minds know nothing, nothing care to know, -
But that the roar of thy Democracies,

Сонет по поводу резни, учинённой турками в Болгарии

 Андрей Фролов 
 (Переводы стихов О. Уальда)

  ON THE MASSACRE OF 
THE CHRISTIANS IN BULGARIA 

Christ, dost Thou live indeed? or are Thy bones
Still straitened in their rock-hewn sepulchre?
And was Thy Rising only dreamed by her
Whose love of Thee for all her sin atones?

Непосещённый Рим

 Андрей Фролов 
 (Переводы стихов О. Уальда)

  ROME UNVISITED 

  I.
The corn has turned from grey to red,
Since first my spirit wandered forth
From the drear cities of the north,
And to Italia's mountains fled.

And here I set my face towards home,

Theoretikos

 Андрей Фролов 
(Переводы стихов О. Уальда)

  THEORETIKOS
   
This mighty empire hath but feet of clay;
Of all its ancient chivalry and might
Our little island is forsaken quite:
Some enemy hath stolen its crown of bay,
And from its hills that voice hath passed away

Луи Наполеон

 Андрей Фролов 
 (Переводы стихов О. Уальда)

  LOUIS NAPOLEON 

Eagle of Austerlitz! where were thy wings
When far away upon a barbarous strand,
In fight unequal, by an obscure hand,
Fell the last scion of thy brood of Kings!

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