Thomas Moore (Томас Мур)

From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 10

How am I to punish thee,
For the wrong thou’st done to me,
Silly swallow, prating thing —
Shall I clip that wheeling wing,
Or, as Tereus did, of old,
(So the fabled tale is told,)
Shall I tear that tongue away,
Tongue that utter’d such a lay?
Ah, how thoughtless hast thou been!
Long before the dawn was seen,
When a dream came o’er my mind,
Picturing her I worship, kind,
Just when I was nearly blest,
Loud thy matins broke my rest!

1. День текущий -- день наш, дорогая! • To-Day, Dearest! Is Ours
2. Савойская ария • Oft, When the Watching Stars Grow Pale
3. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 63
4. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 60
5. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 43

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