Robert Frost
The Figure in the Doorway
The grade surmounted we were speeding high
Through level mountains nothing to the eye
But scrub oak, scrub oak and the lack of earth
That kept the oak from getting any girth.
But as through the monotony we ran,
We came to where there was a living man.
His great gaunt figure filled his cabin door,
And had he fallen inward on the floor,
He must have measured to the further wall.
But we who passed were not to see him fall.
The miles and miles he lived from anywhere
Were evidently something he could bear.
He stood unshaken; and if grim and gaunt,
It was not necessarily from want.
He had the oaks for heating and for light.
He had a hen, he had a pig, in sight.
He had a well, he had the rain to catch.
He had a ten-by-twenty garden patch.
Nor did he lack for common entertainment.
That I assume was what our passing train meant.
He could look at us in our diner eating,
And if so moved, uncurl a hand in greeting.
Роберт Фрост
ФИГУРА В ДВЕРЯХ
То вниз, то в гору мчали рельсы нас.
Сидим, едим и смотрим битый час
На заросли, на мхи, на валуны…
/Картины удручающе нудны/
Казалось, тут никто не жил вовек. –
Внезапно показался человек.
Проем двери он заполнял собой,
А упади, - достал бы головой
В своем жилище дальний уголок,
Но не упал… А все же как далек,
Немыслимо далек был от всего,
Что хоть слегка согрело бы его!
Недвижно он стоял, сух и угрюм.
/Необязательно от горьких дум/:
Тепло и свет окружный лес давал,
Корова, лошадь, риги, сеновал.
И вдоволь было дичи и воды,
И в садике румянились плоды.
Но радостей простых, по всем приметам,
Он был лишен. – Мы все сошлись на этом.
Сидим, едим… Дорожная истома.
Он помахал рукой с порога дома.