Царит капризно столь же и могуче,

Сердца пленяет напрочь сей диктат,

Рабов своих же добровольных муча.

Со скакуном, что под пальбой трескучей

Мчит на штыки сквозь дым во весь опор,

С охотничьей кобылкою прыгучей,

С лошадкой, что быстра как метеор,

Схож чудный парусник, штурмующий простор.

И втуне сухопуту объяснять,

Что белый парус необыкновенный

Расправлен крыльям беркута под стать,

Рассказ ему докучен вдохновенный!

Но моряку, просоленному пеной,

Познавшему штормов и шквалов рык,

Слова нужны такие непременно,

Чтоб образ дома милого возник,

В котором средь морей скитаться он привык.

Перевод В. Раскумандрина

Arthur Hugh Clough (1819–1861)

Repose In Egypt

O happy mother! while the man wayworn

Sleeps by his ass and dreams of daily bread,

Wakeful and heedful for thy infant care

O happy mother! while thy husband sleeps,

Art privileged, blessed one, to see

Celestial strangers sharing in thy task,

And visible angels waiting on thy child.

Take, young soul, infant heaven-desired,

Take and fear not the cates, although of earth,

“Which to thy hands celestial hands extend,

Take and fear not: such vulgar meats of life

Thy spirit lips no more must scorn to pass;

The seeming ill, contaminating joys,

Thy sense divine no more be loth to allow;

The pleasures as the pains of our strange life

Thou art engaged, self-compromised, to share.

Look up, upon thy mother’s face there sits

No sad suspicion of a lurking ill,

No shamed confession of a needful sin;

Mistrust her not, although of earth she too:

Look up! the bright-eyed cherubs overhead

Strew from mid air fresh flowers to crown the just

Look! thy own father’s servants these, and thine,

Who at his bidding and at thine are here.

In thine own word was it not said long since

Butter and honey shall he eat, and learn

The evil to refuse and choose the good?

Fear not, babe divine, fear not, accept;

happy mother, privileged to see,

While the man sleeps, the sacred mystery.

The Thread of Truth

Truth is a golden thread, seen here and there

In small bright specks upon the visible side

Of our strange being’s parti-coloured web.

How rich the universe! ’Tis a vein of ore

Emerging now and then on Earth’s rude breast,

But flowing full below. Like islands set

At distant intervals on Ocean’s face,

We see it on our course; but in the depths

The mystic colonnade unbroken keeps

Its faithful way, invisible but sure.

Oh, if it be so, wherefore do we men

Pass by so many marks, so little heeding?

The Latest Decalogue

Thou shalt have one God only; who

Would be at the expense of two?

No graven images may be

Worshipped, except the currency.

Swear not at all; for, for thy curse

Thine enemy is none the worse.

At church on Sunday to attend

Will serve to keep the world thy friend.

Honor thy parents; that is, all

From whom advancement may befall.

Thou shalt not kill; but need’st not strive

Officiously to keep alive.

Do not adultery commit;

Advantage rarely comes of it.

Thou shalt not steal; an empty feat,

When it’s so lucrative to cheat.

Bear not false witness; let the lie

Have time on its own wings to fly.

Thou shalt not covet, but tradition

Approves all forms of competition.

The sum of all is, thou shalt love,

If any body, God above:

At any rate shall never labour

More than thyself to love thy neighbour.

* * *

Say not the struggle naught availeth,

The labour and the wounds are vain,

The enemy faints not, nor faileth,

And as things have been they remain.

If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars;

It may be, in yon smoke conceal’d,

Your comrades chase e’en now the fliers,

And, but for you, possess the field.

For while the tired waves, vainly breaking,

Seem here no painful inch to gain,