BronteCharlotte

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Charlotte Bronte
1816-1855
(Шарлотта Бронте)

Look into thought and say what dost thou see
Speak of the North! A lonely moor

В мысль загляни, скажи, что видел
Я помню вересковый Север

В мысль загляни, скажи, что видел
Look into thought and say what dost thou see,
Dive, be not fearful, how dark the waves flow,
Sink through the surge, and bring pearls up to me,
Deeper, ay, deeper; the fairest lie low.

I have dived, I have sought them, but none have I found,
In the gloom that closed o’er me no form floated by,
As I sunk through the void depth so black and profound
How dim died the sun and how far hung the sky!

What had I given to hear the soft sweep
Of a breeze bearing life through that vast realm of death!
Thoughts were untroubled and dreams were asleep,
The spirit lay dreadless and hopeless beneath.

Я помню вересковый Север

Speak of the North! A lonely moor
Silent and dark and trackless swells,
The waves of some wild streamlet pour
Hurriedly through its ferny dells.

Profoundly still the twilight air,
Lifeless the landscape; so we deem
Till like a phantom gliding near
A stag bends down to drink the stream.

And far away a mountain zone,
A cold, white waste of snow-drifts lies,
And one star, large and soft and lone,
Silently lights the unclouded skies.

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