Morning and evening, darkness and light —
Fishermen black and fishermen white.
The world’s like an ocean; like fishes are we,
Like fishes that swim in the depths of the sea.
The world’s like an ocean where fishermen wait,
Preparing their nets, their hooks and their bait.
How soon then, O Time, will you bring me to book
In the nets of the Night or on Day’s baited hook?
Утро и вечер, солнце и мрак —
Белый рыбак, черный рыбак.
В мире как в море; и кажется мне:
Мы, словно рыбы, плывем в глубине.
В мире как в море: не спят рыбаки,
Сети готовят и ладят крючки.
В сети ли ночи, на удочку дня
Скоро ли время поймает меня?
Пер. Н. Гребнева
«Two threads are closely hafted, / The ends are unconfined. / 'Tis "yea" and "nay", — not grafted, / Not grafted, — but entwined. / Dim is the weft that mates them / Close and inanimate, / But wakening awaits them, / And they the same await. / End unto end is taken, / Fresh "y...»
«And moan of winds and whispered thoughts of gloom, / From life no joy is won... / Yet somewhere, — warmth, and ocean's muffled boom, / And lustre of the sun. The blizzard wails, and in the heart it throws / A load of tears unshed. / Yet somewhere myrtle, verdant myrtle grows, / And st...»
«Some wait for joy, some seek ovations, / Some look for honours in the field, / Some yearn for mad gratification, / Some for reply to prayers appealed. While I — all visions false, mistaken, / Like bygone dreams fever-distressed, / I’ll trade now for the bliss of waking, / Oh dear fr...»
«I love you as the sea loves the sunrise, / As Narcissus loves the glimmer and the coldness of dreamy waters. / I love you as the stars love the crescent moon, / As the poem loves its creator inspired by fancy. / I love you like the flame that attracts the moth to its Death, from exhaustive l...»