Richard Cory
Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, and imperially slim.
And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
"Good-morning", and he glittered when he walked.
And he was rich - yes, richer than a king -
And admirably schooled in every grace:
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.
So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.
Всегда, когда прогуливался Кори,
Все люди кланялись ему.
Был Ричард словно коронован,
И сдобрен чистотой, имперски тонок.
К себе он взгляды привлекал,
Был в разговоре прост и человечен,
Все кланялись ему сердечно,
Короче, он решительно блистал.
Он был богат,был короля богаче,
Дружил с удачей, был изящен
И зависть добрую у всех он пробуждал.
А мы работали и пили не взахлёб,
Без мяса ели, только голод превозмочь,
А он в одну прекраснейшую ночь
Пришел домой и пулю пустил в лоб.