b_a_n_s_h_e_e (b_a_n_s_h_e_e) wrote,
b_a_n_s_h_e_e
b_a_n_s_h_e_e

Апрельское

Пришла к выводу, что в этом семестре мы со студентами постоянно натыкаетмся на упоминание месяца апреля - и у Чосера, и в других стихотворениях. Так что вот вам немного апрельских стихотворений на английском.  Не пропустите рэп по Чосеру :)

Для начала, одно из моих любимейших средневековых стихотворений на английском (хотя студенты вряд ли разделяют мои восторги, раз уж им пришлось сдавать по нему экзамен). Стихотворение, разумеется, о Деве Марии. Мне кажется, слова здесь понятны современному читателю, особенно если читать вслух и прислушиваться к звучанию слов.

I sing of a maiden
That is makeles;
King of alle kinges
To her son she ches.
He cam also stille
Ther His moder was,
As dew in Aprille
That falleth on the gras.
He cam also stille
To His moderes bowr,
As dew in Aprille
That falleth on the flowr.
He cam also stille
Ther His moder lay,
As dew in Aprille
That falleth on the spray.
Moder and maiden
Was never none but she;
Wel may swich a lady
Godes moder be.

А вот так оно звучит в исполнении хора.



А теперь Чосер, Пролог к Кентерберийским Рассказам. Оригинал с подстрочником отсюда.

1 Whan that Aprill with his shoures soote
When April with its sweet-smelling showers
2 The droghte of March hath perced to the roote,
Has pierced the drought of March to the root,
3 And bathed every veyne in swich licour
And bathed every vein (of the plants) in such liquid
4 Of which vertu engendred is the flour;
By which power the flower is created;
5 Whan Zephirus eek with his sweete breeth
When the West Wind also with its sweet breath,
6 Inspired hath in every holt and heeth
In every wood and field has breathed life into
7 The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
The tender new leaves, and the young sun
8 Hath in the Ram his half cours yronne,
Has run half its course in Aries,
9 And smale foweles maken melodye,
And small fowls make melody,
10 That slepen al the nyght with open ye
Those that sleep all the night with open eyes
11 (So priketh hem Nature in hir corages),
(So Nature incites them in their hearts),
12 Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages,
Then folk long to go on pilgrimages,
13 And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes,
And professional pilgrims to seek foreign shores,
14 To ferne halwes, kowthe in sondry londes;
To distant shrines, known in various lands;
15 And specially from every shires ende
And specially from every shire's end
16 Of Engelond to Caunterbury they wende,
Of England to Canterbury they travel,
17 The hooly blisful martir for to seke,
To seek the holy blessed martyr,
18 That hem hath holpen whan that they were seeke.
Who helped them when they were sick.

На среднеанглийском (Middle English) это звучит так.



А это рэп по Чосеру, довольно таки забавно.



Еще рэп, но тут ж вообще китч - имхо, Чосер в гробу шевелится.


Ну и Элиот, начало The Wasteland. Мари здесь - хорошо известная поклонникам венгерских мюзиклов Мария Лариш.

THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD

APRIL is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering 5
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.
Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee
With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade,
And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten, 10
And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.
Bin gar keine Russin, stamm' aus Litauen, echt deutsch.
And when we were children, staying at the archduke's,
My cousin's, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie, 15
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.

Элиот читает начало The Wasteland.

Tags: poetry
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