Надежда – птичка малая
На жердочке души,
Ее простые песенки
Без слов, но хороши.
Сладчайшие из песенок
В шторма поет она,
И с ними мрачной осенью
В душе цветет весна.
Меня ее мелодии
В воде, в огне хранят.
Поет она мне песенки,
Не требуя наград.
Hope
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune--without the 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.