Джон Китс (John Keats)

Мэг Меррилиз

   Старуха Мэг, цыганка,
   Жила среди болот:
   Ей был постелью бурый дерн,
   А крышей - небосвод.
   
   Плодами были ей стручки
   Ракитова куста,
   Вином - роса, а вместо книг -
   Могильная плита.
   
Ей братом был скалистый холм,
Ее сестра - сосна;
С такой семьею Мэг жила,
Ничем не стеснена.
   
   Не есть по многу дней подряд
   Случалось ей порой,
   И вместо ужина она
   Следила за луной.
   
Из жимолости по утрам
Она венки плела
И с песнями свивала тис,
Лишь наступала мгла.
   
   Циновки дряхлою рукой
   Из тростников сплетала.
   А после их среди цветов
   Крестьянкам отдавала.
   
Как амазонка, Мэг была
Плечиста и сильна;
Из прутьев капор был у ней,
Плащ - алого сукна.
Господь, старуху упокой, -
Давно мертва она!

Перевод В. Рогова

Meg Merrilies

OLD Meg she was a gipsy;
And liv'd upon the moors:
Her bed it was the brown heath turf,
And her house was out of doors.

Her apples were swart blackberries,
Her currants, pods o' broom;
Her wine was dew of the wild white rose,
Her book a church-yard tomb.

Her brothers were the craggy hills,
Her sisters larchen trees;
Alone with her great family
She liv'd as she did please.

No breakfast had she many a morn,
No dinner many a noon,
And 'stead of supper she would stare
Full hard against the moon.

But every morn, of woodbine fresh
She made her garlanding,
And every night the dark glen yew
She wove, and she would sing.

And with her fingers old and brown
She plaited mats o' rushes,
And gave them to the cottagers
She met among the bushes.

Old Meg was brave as Margaret Queen,
And tall as Amazon:
An old red blanket cloak she wore,
A chip hat had she on.
God rest her aged bones somewhere---
She died full long agone!

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