Вильям Вордсворт. Жил-был Малыш, знакомец милый..

There was a Boy, ye knew him well, ye Cliffs
And Islands of Winander! many a time,
At evening, when the stars had just begun
To move along the edges of the hills,
Rising or setting, would he stand alone,
Beneath the trees, or by the glimmering lake,
And there, with fingers interwoven, both hands
Press'd closely palm to palm and to his mouth
Uplifted, he, as through an instrument,
Blew mimic hootings to the silent owls
That they might answer him. And they would shout
Across the wat'ry vale and shout again
Responsive to his call, with quivering peals,
And long halloos, and screams, and echoes loud
Redoubled and redoubled, a wild scene
Of mirth and jocund din. And, when it chanced
That pauses of deep silence mock'd his skill,
Then, sometimes, in that silence, while he hung
Listening, a gentle shock of mild surprize
Has carried far into his heart the voice
Of mountain torrents, or the visible scene
Would enter unawares into his mind
With all its solemn imagery, its rocks,
Its woods, and that uncertain heaven, receiv'd
Into the bosom of the steady lake.

Fair are the woods, and beauteous is the spot,
The vale where he was born: the Church-yard hangs
Upon a slope above the village school,
And there along that bank when I have pass'd
At evening, I believe, that near his grave
A full half-hour together I have stood,
Mute——for he died when he was ten years old.

William Wordsworth
(1770–1850)


Жил-был Малыш, знакомец милый наш,
Винандера, ваш, скалы-острова.
По вечерам, с восходом первых звёзд
над холмами мерцающих едва.
он, втайне от друзей в сени дерев
не то  в мерцанье озера застыв
сплетал ладони в ракушку к губам
и ухал совам выспавшимся днём.
Те откликались хором вразнобой
стенали, голосили вдаль и вширь
над озером застывшим в полутьме,
где эхо множило дрожащий вопль,
восторг и раж!.. и той же тишины
насмешливое "и?.." Малыш внимал
умом и сердцем мир и красоту
сливаясь с ней– с журчанием ручьёв,
молчаньем  заповедных берегов
а переменчивый великий небосвод
торжественно сиял вширь глади вод.

Прекрасна родина его: леса,
утёсы,  острова...  погост вверху,
а школа сельская внизу холма.
Взобрался с берега я – гас закат–
и замер у могилы Малыша:
пожил он десять лет,  знакомец наш.

перевод с английского Терджимана Кырымлы