Стихи сестер Бронте

Бронте Шарлотта

Соединилась с Богом вновь -

Она как ангел хороша

И помнит про мою любовь.

THE PENITENT

I mourn with thee, and yet rejoice

That thou shouldst sorrow so;

With angel choirs I join my voice

To bless the sinner's woe.

Though friends and kindred turn away,

And laugh thy gfrief to scorn;

I hear the great Redeemer say,

'Blessed are ye that mourn.'

Hold on the course, nor deem it strange

That earthly cords are riven:

Man may lament the wondrous change,

But 'there is joy in heaven !'

КАЮЩЕМУСЯ

Я

ставлю с радостью свечу -

Ты каешься, скорбя;

Я с хором ангелов хочу

Благословить тебя.

Пусть говорят, что ты чудак,

Пусть свет тебе не мил;

"Блаженны плачущие" – так

Спаситель говорил.

Так вот тебе моя рука -

И унывать не надо:

Спасешья ты – и "велика

На небесах награда" !

LINES COMPOSED IN A WOOD ON A WINDY DAY

My soul is awakened, my spirit is soaring

And carried aloft on the wings of the breez;

For above and around me the wild wind is roaring,

Arousing to rapture the earth and the seas.

The long withered grass in the sunshine is glancing,

The bare trees are tossing their branches on high;

The dead leaves, beneath them, are merrily dancing,

the white clouds are scuddind across the blue sky.

I wish I coukd see how the ocean is lashing

The foam of its billows to whirlwinds of spray;

I wish icould see how its proud waves are dashing,

And hear the wild roar of their thunder today !

СТРОКИ, СЛОЖЕННЫЕ В ЛЕСУ В ВЕТРЕНЫЙ ДЕНЬ

Душа встрепенулась, как птица живая,

И в небо взлетела, на крыльях паря;

Свистит вольный ветер, меня обдувая,

Проносятся мимо леса и моря.

Желтеют под солнцем высокие травы,

И ветви деревьев трепещут слегка,

И ветер с листвою заводит забавы,

И быстро по небу бегут облака.

Я видеть желаю, как вихрями пены

Морскую волну растрепал ураган;

Я слышать могу, как бросаясь на стены

Прибрежных утесов, ревет океан !

APPEAL

Oh, I am very weary,

Though tears no longer flow;

My eyes are tired of weeping,

My heart is sick of woe;

My life is very lonely,

My days pass heavily,

I'm weary of repining,

Wilt thou not come to me ?

Oh, didst thou know my longins

For thee, from day to day,

My hopes, so often blighted,

Thou wouldst not thus delay !

ЗОВУ

Ох,

как я утомилась -

Прилягу на кровать.

Глаза устали плакать,

А сердце – тосковать.

Жизнь очень одинока,

Проходят мимо дни.

Прошу тебя, любимый -

К бедняжке загляни.

О, знал бы ты, как жду я

Тебя день ото дня;

Не отнимай, желанный

Надежду у меня !

SELF-CONGRATULATIONS

Ellen, you were thoughtless once

Of beauty or of grace,

Simple and homely in attire,

Careless of form and face;

Then whence this change ? and wherefore now

So often smooth your hair ?

And wherefore deck your youthful form

With such unwearied care ?

Tell us – and cease to fire our ears

With that familiar strain -

Why will you play those simple tunes

So often, o'er again ?

'Indeed, dear friends, I can by say

That childhood's thoughts are gone;

Each year its own new feelings brings,

And years move swiftly on:

'And for these little simple airs -

I love to play them o'er

So much – I dare not promise, now,

To play them never more !

I answered – and it was enough;

They turned them to depart;

They could not read my secret thoughts,

Nor see my trobbing heart.

I'w noticed many a youtful form,

Upon whose changeful face

The inmost workings of the soul

The gaser well might trace;

The speaking eye, the changing lip,

The ready blushing cheek,

The smiling, or beclouded brow,

Their different feelings speak.

But, thank God ! you might gaze on mine

For hours, and never know

The secret changes of my soul

From joy to keenest woe.

Last night, as we sat round the fire

Conversing merrily,

We heard, without, approaching steps

Of on well known to me !

There was no trembling in my vois,

No blush upon my check,

No lustrous sparkle in my eyes,

Of hope, or joy, to speak;

But, oh ! my spirit burned within,

My heart beat full and fast !

He came not nigh – he went away -