Эмили Дикинсон - Стихотворения

1304

Нет, камнем, палкою сердца
Не разбивают —
Невидимую глазу плеть
Я знаю.

До смерти это чудо
Исхлестать —
И плеть не сметь по имени
Назвать.

Мальчишки чудо-птиц
Камнями бьют —
Но и на тех камнях
Они поют.

А стыд — у нас-то —
Не прячет ни один.
Стыд — ты стой прямо!
Ты — господин!

1335

Не пачкайте мой чудный сон
Пятном зари своей —
Но так устройте, чтобы ночь
Пришла опять скорей!

1459

Царь Балтазар — он письма
Не часто получал —
Но тот, кто с ним общался —
Всё сразу написал.

Бессмертное посланье
Для совести вполне
Разборчиво сияет
У всех нас на стене.

436

The Wind — tapped like a tired Man,
And like a Host — ` Come in`
I boldly answered — entered then
My residence within
A Rapid footless Guest —
To offer whom a Chair
Were as impossible as hand
A Sofa to the Air —
No Bone had He to bind Him —
His speech was like the Push
Of numerous humming Birds at once
From a superior Bush
His Countenance — a Billow,
His Fingers, as He passed
Let go music — as of tunes
Blow tremulous in Glass
He visited — still flitting —
Then like a timid Man
Again He tapped — `twas flurriedly —
And I became alone.

47

Heart! We will forget him!
You and I — tonight!
You may forget the Warmth he gave —
I will forget the Light!
When you have done, pray tell me
That I may straight begin!
Haste! lest while you're lagging
I may remember him!

49

I never lost as much but twice,
And that was in the sod.
Twice stood I beggar
Before the doors of God!

Angels — twice descending
Reimbursed my store —
Burglar! Banker — Father!
I am poor once more!

90

Within my reach!
I could have touched!
I might have chanced that way!
Soft sauntered thro'h the village —
Sauntered as soft away!
So unsuspected Violets
Within the meadows go —
Too late for striving fingers
That passed, an hour ago!

107

'T was such a little-little boat
That toddled down the bay!
'T was such a gallant- gallant sea
That beckoned it away!
'T was such a greedy, greedy wave
That licked it from the Coast;
Nor ever guessed the stately sails
My little craft was lost!

126

To fight aloud is very brave —
But gallanter, I know,
Who charge within the bosom,
The Cavalry of Woe —

Who win, and nations do not see —
Who fall- and none observe —
Whose dying eyes, no Country
Regards with patriot love —

We trust, in plumed procession
For such the Angels go —
Rank after Rank, with even feet —
And Uniforms of Snow.

135

Water, is taught by thirst;
Land — by the Oceans passed.
Transport — by throe —
Peace — by its battles told —
Love, by Memorial Mold —
Birds, by the Snow.

185

«Faith» is a fine invention
When Gentlemen can see —
But Microscopes are prudent
In an Emergency

224

I've nothing else — to bring, You know
So I keep bringing These —
Just as the Night keeps fetching Stars
To our familiar eyes —

Maybe, we shouldn't mind them —
Unless they didn't come —
Then — maybe, it would puzzle us
To find our way Home —

249

Wild Nights- Wild Nights!
Were I with thee
Wild Nights should be
Our luxury!

Futile — the Winds —
To a Heart in port —
Done with the Compass —
Done with the Chart!

Rowing in Eden —
Ah, the Sea!
Might I but moor — Tonight!
In Thee!

254

`Hope` is a thing with feathers —
That perches in the soul —
And sings the tune without words —
And never stops — at all —

And sweetest — in the Gale — is heard
And sore must be the storm —
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm —

I've heard it in the chillest land —
And on the strangest Sea —
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb — of Me.

303

The Soul selects her own Society —
Then — shut the Door —
To her divine Majority —
Present no more —

Unmoved-she notes the Chariots-pausing —
At her low Gate —
Unmoved — an Emperor is kneeling
Upon her Mat —

I've known her — from an ample nation
Choose One —
Then- close the Valves of her attention —
Like Stone —

313

I should have been too glad, I see —
Too lifted — for the scant degree
Of Life's penurious Round;
My little Circuit would have shamed
This new Circumference — have blamed
The homelier time behind.

I should have been too saved — I see —
Too rescued — Fear too dim to me
That I could spell the Prayer
I knew so perfect — yesterday —
That Scalding one — «Sabachthani» —
Recited fluent — here —

Earth would have been too much — I see —
And Heaven- not enough for me —
I should have had the Joy

Without the Fear — to justify —
The Palm — without the Calvary;
So, Saviour, Crucify —

Defeat whets Victory — they say —
The Reefs — in old Gethsemane —
Endear the Coast beyond!
'T is Beggars — Banquets best define;
'T is parching — vitalizes Wine, —
«Faith» bleats — to understand!

371

A precious-mouldering pleasure-'t is —
To meet an Antique Book,
In just the Dress his Century wore —
A privilege — I think —