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Любимые рифмы.
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| Lizzy | Дата: Понедельник, 14.11.2011, 18:56 | Сообщение # 1 |
 Живое Слово
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| `Beautiful Soup, so rich and green,
Waiting in a hot tureen!
Who for such dainties would not stoop?
Soup of the evening, beautiful Soup!
Soup of the evening, beautiful Soup!
Beau--ootiful Soo--oop!
Beau--ootiful Soo--oop!
Soo--oop of the e--e--evening,
Beautiful, beautiful Soup!
`Beautiful Soup! Who cares for fish,
Game, or any other dish?
Who would not give all else for two
Pennyworth only of beautiful Soup?
Pennyworth only of beautiful Soup?
Beau--ootiful Soo--oop!
Beau--ootiful Soo--oop!
Soo--oop of the e--e--evening,
Beautiful, beauti--FUL SOUP!'
Дурак учится на своих ошибках, умный — на чужих, а мудрый использует опыт и тех, и других себе на пользу.
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| Lizzy | Дата: Четверг, 17.11.2011, 10:21 | Сообщение # 2 |
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Живое Слово
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| To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action. - Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember'd.
Дурак учится на своих ошибках, умный — на чужих, а мудрый использует опыт и тех, и других себе на пользу.
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| Lizzy | Дата: Четверг, 08.12.2011, 12:33 | Сообщение # 3 |
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Живое Слово
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| Traveller
Pussy-cat, pussy-cat,
Where have you been?
I've been to London
To look at the Queen.
Pussy-cat, pussy-cat,
What did you there?
I frightened a little mouse
Under her chair.
В гостях у королевы
- Где ты была сегодня, киска?
- У королевы у английской.
- Что ты видала при дворе?!
- Видала мышку на ковре!
Дурак учится на своих ошибках, умный — на чужих, а мудрый использует опыт и тех, и других себе на пользу.
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| Lizzy | Дата: Четверг, 08.12.2011, 12:35 | Сообщение # 4 |
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Живое Слово
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| 'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gymble in the wabe;
And mimsy were the borogoves
And the mome raths outgrabe.
Варкалось. Хливкие шорьки
Пырялись по наве,
И хрюкотали зелюки,
Как мюмзики в мове.
Дурак учится на своих ошибках, умный — на чужих, а мудрый использует опыт и тех, и других себе на пользу.
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| Lizzy | Дата: Вторник, 13.12.2011, 23:32 | Сообщение # 5 |
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Живое Слово
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| THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA
In sleep he sang to me,
In dreams he came...
that voice which calls to me
and speaks my name...
And do I dream again?
For now I find
the Phantom of the Opera
is there- inside my mind...
Sing once again with me
our strange duet...
My power over you
grows stronger yet...
And though you turn from me,
to glance behind,
the Phantom of the Opera
is there- inside your mind...
Those who have seen your face
draw back in fear...
I am the mask you wear...
It's me they hear...
Your/my spirit
and your/my voice
in one combined:
the Phantom of the Opera
is there- inside your/my mind...
(Off stage) He's there,
the Phantom on the Opera...
Beware the Phantom of the Opera...
(Phantom) In all your fantasies,
you always knew
that man and mystery...
(Christine)...were both in you...
(Both) And in this labyrinth
where night is blind,
the Phantom of the Opera
is there/here
inside your/my mind...
Sing,my Angel of Music!
He's there
the Phantom of the Opera....
Дурак учится на своих ошибках, умный — на чужих, а мудрый использует опыт и тех, и других себе на пользу.
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| Lizzy | Дата: Вторник, 13.12.2011, 23:33 | Сообщение # 6 |
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Живое Слово
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| CHATTANOOGA CHOO-CHOO
ПОЕЗД НА ЧАТТАНУГУ
- Pardon me, boy,
- Послушай, друг!
Is that the Chattanooga Choo-Choo?
А где здесь Чаттануга Чу-Чу?
- Track twenty nine!
- Десятый путь!
- Boy, you can gimme a shine.
Вперед и вправо свернуть.
I can afford –
Могу успеть
To board a Chattanooga Choo-Choo,
И сесть на Чаттанугу Чу-Чу,
I've got my fare
Я взял билет
And just a trifle to spare.
И сдачи есть шесть монет.
You leave the Pennsylvania station
Вот за окном поплыл вокзальчик -
'boute a quarter to four,
Нам открыт светофор,
Read a magazine and then you're
Ты прочел журнальчик -
In Baltimore,
И уже Балтимор,
Dinner in the diner,
Ужин в ресторане -
Nothing could be finer,
Нет ничего желанней,
Than to have your ham n'eggs
Чем съесть свою яичницу
In Carolina,
В Кэролайне,
When you hear the whistle
В восемь поезд свистнул -
Blowin' eight to the bar,
Время выпить пришло,
Then you know that Tennessee
Знаю я, что Теннесси
Is not very far,
Недалеко,
Shovel all the coal in,
Подбрось угля лопату,
Gotta keep it rollin',
Чтобы ход не падал,
Woo, woo, Chattanooga,
А вот уже и Чаттануга
There you are!
За стеклом!
There's gonna be
Здесь я сойду -
A certain party at the station,
И будет выпивка в буфете,
Satin and lace
С прицепом сто -
I used to call funny face,
И мне не страшно ничто,
She's gonna cry
Она в слезах,
Until I tell her
А я стою пред нею
that I'll never roam
- сам не свой -
So, Chattanooga Choo-Choo,
О, Чаттануга Чу-Чу,
Won't you choo-choo me home!
Я вернулся домой!
So, Chattanooga Choo-Choo,
О, Чаттануга Чу-Чу,
Won't you choo-choo me home!
Я вернулся насовсем - домой!
Дурак учится на своих ошибках, умный — на чужих, а мудрый использует опыт и тех, и других себе на пользу.
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| Lizzy | Дата: Вторник, 13.12.2011, 23:44 | Сообщение # 7 |
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Живое Слово
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| The lobster quadrille
Will you walk a little faster?"
Said a whiting to a snail,
"There's a porpoise close behind us,
And he's treading on my tail.
See how eagerly the lobsters
And the turtles all advance!
They are waiting on the shingle -
Will you come and join the dance?
Will you, won't you, will you,
Won't you, will you join the dance?
Will you, won't you, will you,
Won't you, won't you join the dance?
"You can really have notion
How delightful it will be
When they take us up and throw us,
With the lobsters, out to sea!"
But the snail replied, "Too far, too far!"
And gave a look askance -
Said he thanked the whiting kindly,
But he would not join the dance.
Would not, could not, would not,
Could not, would not join the dance.
Would not, could not, would not,
Could not, could not join the dance.
"What matters it how far we go?"
His scaly friend replied,
"There is another shore, you know,
Upon the other side.
The further off from England
The nearer is to France -
Then turn not pale, beloved snail,
But come and join the dance.
Will you, won't you, will you,
Won't you, will you join the dance?
Will you, won't you, will you,
Won't you, won't you join the dance?
Дурак учится на своих ошибках, умный — на чужих, а мудрый использует опыт и тех, и других себе на пользу.
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| Lizzy | Дата: Среда, 14.12.2011, 00:02 | Сообщение # 8 |
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Живое Слово
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| No one would listen
No one but her
Heard as the outcast hears.
Shamed into solitude
Shunned by the multitude
I learned to listen
In my dark, my heart heard music.
I longed to teach the world
Rise up and reach the world
No one would listen
I alone could hear the music
Then at last, a voice in the gloom
Seemed to cry "I hear you;
I hear your fears,
Your torment and your tears."
She saw my loneliness
Shared in my emptiness
No one would listen
No one but her
Heard as the outcast hears
No one would listen
No one but her
Heard as the outcast hears...
Дурак учится на своих ошибках, умный — на чужих, а мудрый использует опыт и тех, и других себе на пользу.
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| эли | Дата: Среда, 14.12.2011, 00:46 | Сообщение # 9 |
 Общаюсь, но в меру
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| 29. INFANT JOY
'I have no name:
I am but two days old.'
What shall I call thee?
'I happy am,
Joy is my name.'
Sweet joy befall thee!
Pretty Joy!
Sweet Joy, but two days old.
Sweet Joy I call thee
Thou dost smile,
I sing the while,
Sweet joy befall thee!
29. ДИТЯ-РАДОСТЬ
- Мне только два дня.
Нет у меня
Пока еще имени.
- Как же тебя назову?
- Радуюсь я, что живу.
Радостью - так и зови меня!
Радость моя -
Двух только дней, -
Радость дана мне судьбою.
Глядя на радость мою,
Я пою:
Радость да будет с тобою!
Перевод С. Я. Маршака
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| Lizzy | Дата: Понедельник, 19.12.2011, 22:58 | Сообщение # 10 |
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Живое Слово
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| There is a tide in the affairs of men,
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows and in miseries.
William Shakespeare
В делах людей прилив есть и отлив,
С приливом достигаем мы успеха,
Когда ж отлив наступит, лодка жизни
По отмелям несчастий волочится.
Уильям Шекспир
Дурак учится на своих ошибках, умный — на чужих, а мудрый использует опыт и тех, и других себе на пользу.
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| Cthulhu | Дата: Понедельник, 19.12.2011, 23:53 | Сообщение # 11 |
 Судия
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| William Blake
Sick Rose
A rose thou art sick.
The invisible worm
That flies in the night
In the howling storm
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy,
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.
velle atque facere non est idem
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| Cthulhu | Дата: Вторник, 20.12.2011, 00:17 | Сообщение # 12 |
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Судия
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| William Blake
My Pretty Rose-Tree
A flower was offerd to me;
Such a flower as May never bore.
But I said I’ve a Pretty Rose-tree.
And I passed the sweet flower o’er.
Then I went to my Pretty Rose-tree:
To tend her by day and by night.
But my Rose turnd away with jealousy:
And her thorns were my only delight.
velle atque facere non est idem
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| Cthulhu | Дата: Вторник, 20.12.2011, 00:22 | Сообщение # 13 |
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Судия
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| William Blake
Ah! Sun-Flower
Ah Sun-flower! weary of time.
Who countest the steps of the Sun:
Seeking after that sweet golden clime
Where the travellers journey is done.
Where the Youth pined away with desire,
And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow:
Arise from their graves and aspire.
Where my Sun-flower wishes to go.
velle atque facere non est idem
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| Silk-Wire | Дата: Вторник, 20.12.2011, 17:56 | Сообщение # 14 |
 The Vorpal Blade
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| A BIRTHDAY
Christina Rossetti
My heart is like a singing bird
Whose nest is in a water'd shoot;
My heart is like an apple-tree
Whose boughs are bent with thick-set fruit;
My heart is like a rainbow shell
That paddles in a halcyon sea;
My heart is gladder than all these,
Because my love is come to me.
Raise me a daïs of silk and down;
Hang it with vair and purple dyes;
Carve it in doves and pomegranates,
And peacocks with a hundred eyes;
Work it in gold and silver grapes,
In leaves and silver fleurs-de-lys;
Because the birthday of my life
Is come, my love is come to me.
Мне сердце птицами поет,
Что гнезда вьют среди болот,
Мне сердце яблоней цветет,
Родящей в осень к плоду плод,
Мне сердце словно небосвод,
Что в безмятежности плывет,
На сердце больше нет забот -
Идет ко мне любовь, идет!
Ты ложе пуха и шелков
В пурпур отделай и меха,
В узор из птиц и из плодов,
В глаза павлиньего пера,
Вкрапленья серебра и злата
В листву, и лилии в цвету,
Я дню рожденья жизни рада -
К любви иду! К любви иду!
Перевод - Ученый Кот aka Владимир Дубровин
Иллюстрация - Эмма Флоренс Харрисон "День рождения"
Перевожу иероглифы каприкорнов. Недорого.  
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| annalisa | Дата: Среда, 21.12.2011, 16:55 | Сообщение # 15 |
 Общаюсь, но в меру
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| Mandalay
By Rudyard Kipling
By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin' eastward to the sea,
There's a Burma girl a-settin', and I know she thinks o' me;
For the wind is in the palm-trees, and the temple-bells they say:
"Come you back, you British soldier; come you back to Mandalay!"
Come you back to Mandalay,
Where the old Flotilla lay:
Can't you 'ear their paddles chunkin' from Rangoon to Mandalay?
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin'-fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!
'Er petticoat was yaller an' 'er little cap was green,
An' 'er name was Supi-yaw-lat -- jes' the same as Theebaw's Queen,
An' I seed her first a-smokin' of a whackin' white cheroot,
An' a-wastin' Christian kisses on an 'eathen idol's foot:
Bloomin' idol made o'mud --
Wot they called the Great Gawd Budd --
Plucky lot she cared for idols when I kissed 'er where she stud!
On the road to Mandalay . . .
When the mist was on the rice-fields an' the sun was droppin' slow,
She'd git 'er little banjo an' she'd sing "Kulla-lo-lo!"
With 'er arm upon my shoulder an' 'er cheek agin' my cheek
We useter watch the steamers an' the hathis pilin' teak.
Elephints a-pilin' teak
In the sludgy, squdgy creek,
Where the silence 'ung that 'eavy you was 'arf afraid to speak!
On the road to Mandalay . . .
But that's all shove be'ind me -- long ago an' fur away,
An' there ain't no 'busses runnin' from the Bank to Mandalay;
An' I'm learnin' 'ere in London what the ten-year soldier tells:
"If you've 'eard the East a-callin', you won't never 'eed naught else."
No! you won't 'eed nothin' else
But them spicy garlic smells,
An' the sunshine an' the palm-trees an' the tinkly temple-bells;
On the road to Mandalay . . .
I am sick o' wastin' leather on these gritty pavin'-stones,
An' the blasted Henglish drizzle wakes the fever in my bones;
Tho' I walks with fifty 'ousemaids outer Chelsea to the Strand,
An' they talks a lot o' lovin', but wot do they understand?
Beefy face an' grubby 'and --
Law! wot do they understand?
I've a neater, sweeter maiden in a cleaner, greener land!
On the road to Mandalay . . .
Ship me somewheres east of Suez, where the best is like the worst,
Where there aren't no Ten Commandments an' a man can raise a thirst;
For the temple-bells are callin', an' it's there that I would be --
By the old Moulmein Pagoda, looking lazy at the sea;
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the old Flotilla lay,
With our sick beneath the awnings when we went to Mandalay!
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin'-fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!
bis dat qui cito dat
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