449
Я, жизнь отдав за красоту,
Покоилась в земле,
Когда за истину пал тот,
Кто стал соседом мне.
Спросил он: «И за что вы тут?»
«За красоту. А вы?»
«За истину. Выходит, есть
Родство у нас в крови».
И как родные по ночам
Общались я и он,
Пока не дотянулся мох
До губ и до имён.
Emily Dickinson
449
I died for beauty, but was scarce
Adjusted in the tomb,
When one who died for truth was lain
In an adjoining room.
He questioned softly why I failed ?
"For beauty," I replied.
"And I for truth, — the two are one ;
We brethren are," he said.
And so, as kinsmen met a night,
We talked between the rooms,
Until the moss had reached our lips,
And covered up our names.