Кристофер Пирс Крэнч (Christopher Pearse Cranch) Текст оригинала на английском языке Love’s Voyage As once I sat upon the shore There came to me a fairy boat, A bark I never saw before, Whose coming I had failed to note, Wrapped in my studies conning rules of life by rote. The stern was fashioned like a heart; The curving sides like Cupid's bow. And from the mast, which like a dart Was winged above and barbed below, A pennon like an airy stream of blood did flow. Upon the prow on either side Was carved a snowy Paphian dove. Between, reflected in the tide An arching swan's neck rose above The deck o'erspread with broidered tapestries of love. Against the mast the idle sail Flapped like a lace-edged valentine. It seemed a canvas all too frail, Should winds arouse the sleeping brine. A toy the boat appeared, for sport in weather fine. And so I stepped, in idle mood, Aboard the bark — when suddenly A breeze sprang up: and while I stood Uncertain, thinking I was free To make retreat, the vessel bore me out to sea. Silent and swift away from land It cut the waves. No pilot steered. No voice of captain gave command. Yet to and fro it tacked and veered. All day it flew. At eve a distant land appeared. An island in the restless seas, With rosy cliffs, and gold and green Of dappled fields, and tropic trees, With trailing vines and flowers between, Across the purple waves through amber skies was seen. And music floating from afar I heard, of voice and instrument As the sun sank, and star by star Throbbed in the living firmament; And all kind fates seemed pledged to cheer me as I went. Till in a deep and shadowy bay The little argosy, self-furled, Self-anchored, in the silence lay, And landed me upon a world By other stars and a moons endiamonded, impearled. A region to my student's nooks Unknown — where first I leaned to see That love is never conned from books, Nor passion taught by fantasy — But in the living, beating heart alone can be. For on that shore a maiden stood, Who smiled with sympathetic glance, And when I pressed her hand, and wooed, Turned not her truthful eyes askance, And proved my voyage was no idle sport of chance. Ah, from this island if I veer Into the seas of worldly strife, Give me the bark that brought me here, Where now the tried and faithful wife Year after year renews the lover's lease of life. |
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