Ý. Äèêèíñîí. 427. I ll clutch and clutch

427

Ñõâà÷ó, ñõâà÷ó —
Âîò-âîò è — ïîïàäåòñÿ
Ñ  çîëîòûì îòëèâîì —
Êðàøå, ÷åì àëìàç —
Íûðÿþ — ïóñòü íåìíîãî ïîçäíî —
Çâåçäû âñå ìåäëÿò âûõîäèòü.

Åñòü îæåðåëüÿ ó ìåíÿ —
Ãðàôèíþ  èìè îáîâüþ,
ß ÷àùå ñàìîãî öàðÿ
Ìîãó êîðîíû îáíîâëÿòü, —
Ñ÷èòàþ, ïðÿ÷ó è êîïëþ,
È çàáûâàþ, êàêîâû,
È — íàõîäÿ  —
Ëèêóþ, êàê âïåðâûå.

ß êî äâîðó
Ïðåäñòàâëþ  âàñ —
Óêðàøó ãðóäü — ïóñòü âèäÿò âñå,
Êàê âûñîêî âû âîçíåñëèñü
È ñ âàìè — ÿ.

Äëÿ ñìåðòè
Âàñ ïðèáåðåãó,
È âñå ñìèðåííî ó âîðîò ñëîæó,
È ñêàæóò Íåáåñà — îíà áîãàòà,
Ïóñòü âîéäåò.      


427

I'll clutch — and clutch —
Next — One — Might be the golden touch —
Could take it —
Diamonds — Wait —
I'm diving — just a little late —
But stars — go slow — for night —

I'll string you — in fine Necklace —
Tiaras — make — of some —
Wear you on Hem —
Loop up a Countess — with you —
Make — a Diadem — and mend my old One —
Count — Hoard — then lose —
And doubt that you are mine —
To have the joy of feeling it — again —

I'll show you at the Court —
Bear you — for Ornament
Where Women breathe —
That every sigh — may lift you
Just as high — as I —

And — when I die —
In meek array — display you —
Still to show — how rich I go —
Lest Skies impeach a wealth so wonderful —
And banish me —