John Keats (Джон Китс)

To Fanny

I cry your mercy—pity—love!—aye, love!
Merciful love that tantalizes not,
One-thoughted, never-wandering, guileless love,
Unmasked, and being seen—without a blot!
O! let me have thee whole,—all—all—be mine!
That shape, that fairness, that sweet minor zest
Of love, your kiss,—those hands, those eyes divine,
That warm, white, lucent, million-pleasured breast,—
Yourself—your soul—in pity give me all,
Withhold no atom's atom or I die,
Or living on, perhaps, your wretched thrall,
Forget, in the mist of idle misery,
Life's purposes,—the palate of my mind
Losing its gust, and my ambition blind!

1. The House of Mourning Written by Mr. Scott
2. Два лакомства мне враз поднесено • On Hearing the Bag-Pipe and Seeing “The Stranger” Played at Inverary
3. Смеялся я сейчас - но почему? • Why Did I Laugh Tonight? No Voice Will Tell
4. Ответ на сонет Дж. Г. Рейнолдса • Written in Answer to a Sonnet by J.H. Reynolds
5. Что сказал дрозд • What the Thrush Said

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