"Эмили Дикинсон. Стихи в переводах Л.В.Кириллиной" - читать интересную книгу автора

‡  «Ґв®¬ «Ґв® ­ бв Ґв,
Ё б«Ёв Ёо­мбЄЁ© ўҐЄ
б нЇ®е®©  ўЈгбв  ўҐбм Ј®¤,
Ё бз бв«Ёў 祫®ўҐЄ...

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There is a zone whose even years
No solstice interrupt,
Whose sun constructs perpetual noon,
Whose perfect seasons wait;

Whose summer set in summer till
The centuries of June
And centuries of August fuse
And consciousness is noon.

‚бЄа®© ЇвЁзмҐ вҐ«мжҐ...

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‚бЄа®© ЇвЁзмҐ вҐ«мжҐ - гўЁ¤Ёим ЇҐб­о,
ваҐ«м §  в५мо - ­Ёвмо ўЁв®©.
Њг§лЄ  - бЇгв­Ёж  «Ґв­Ёе а бᢥ⮢,
бваг­л г¬агв - ®­  Ўг¤Ґв б в®Ў®©.

‚лбгиЁ агб«® - ®влйҐим Ёбв®з­ЁЄ,
- Є Ї«п §  Є Ї«Ґ© - б ў®¤®© Є«о祢®©.
Ћ ўЁўЁбҐЄв®а, ”®¬  ¬ «®ўҐа­л©!
‚Ё¤Ёим: в  ЇвЁж  Ўл«  - ¦Ёў®©?

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Split the lark and you"ll find the music,
Bulb after bulb, in silver rolled,
Scantily dealt to the summer morning,
Saved for your ear when lutes be old.

Loose the flood, you shall find it patent,
Gush after gush, reserved for you;
Scarlet experiment! sceptic Thomas,
Now, do you doubt that your bird was true?

‘«ли вм Ёў®«ЈЁ ЇҐб­м...

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‘«ли вм Ёў®«ЈЁ ЇҐб­м -
§ гап¤­ п ўҐйм -