Ýìèëè Äèêèíñîí Õðóñòàëüíûé Ðåéí è ñèãàðà

Åëåíà Ëåîíèäîâíà Ôåäîðîâà
Emily Dickinson

Many cross the Rhine
In this cup of mine.
Sip old Frankfort air
From my brown Cigar.

Ýìèëè Äèêèíñîí

Õðóñòàëüíûé Ðåéí è ñèãàðà

Ðåéí ðàñïèñíîé íà áîêàëå
×àñòî äðóçüÿ ïðîïëûâàëè,
Ïèëè äóõ Ôðàíêôóðòà – ñòàðûé –
Äûìîì ãàâàíñêîé ñèãàðû.