Мэдисон Джулиус Кавейн (Madison Julius Cawein)




Текст оригинала на английском языке

Foreword to Weeds by the Wall


In the first rare spring of song,
    In my heart's young hours,
In my youth 't was thus I sang,
    Choosing 'mid the flowers: -

"Fair the Dandelion is,
    But for me too lowly;
And the winsome Violet
    Is, forsooth, too holy.
'But the Touchmenot?' Go to!
    What! a face that's speckled
Like a common milking-maid's,
    Whom the sun hath freckled.
Then the Wild-Rose is a flirt;
    And the trillium Lily,
In her spotless gown, 's a prude,
    Sanctified and silly.
By her cap the Columbine,
    To my mind, 's too merry;
Gossips, I would sooner wed
    Some plebeian Berry.
And the shy Anemone -
    Well, her face shows sorrow;
Pale, goodsooth! alive to-day,
    Dead and gone to-morrow.
Then that bold-eyed, buxom wench,
    Big and blond and lazy, -
She's been chosen overmuch! -
    Sirs, I mean the Daisy.
Pleasant persons are they all,
    And their virtues many;
Faith I know but good of each,
    And naught ill of any.
But I choose a May-apple;
    She shall be my Lady;
Blooming, hidden and refined,
    Sweet in places shady."

In my youth 'twas thus I sang,
    In my heart's young hours,
In the first rare spring of song,
    Choosing 'mid the flowers.
So I hesitated when
    Time alone was reckoned
By the hours that Fancy smiled,
    Love and Beauty beckoned.
Hard it was for me to choose
    From the flowers that flattered;
And the blossom that I chose
    Soon lay dead and scattered.
Hard I found it then, ah, me!
    Hard I found the choosing;
Harder, harder since I've found,
    Ah, too hard the losing.
Haply had I chosen then
    From the weeds that tangle
Wayside, woodland and the wall
    Of my garden's angle,
I had chosen better, yea,
    For these later hours -
Longer last the weeds, and oft
    Sweeter are than flowers.





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