Форум литературного общества Fabulae

Приглашаем литераторов и сочувствующих!

Вы не зашли.

  • Форум
  •  » Переводы
  •  » Из C.Т. Колриджа.Сказание о старом мореходе. Часть 1 - 5.

#1 2008-10-15 01:53:45

galinapodolsky
Участник
Зарегистрирован: 2008-09-08
Сообщений: 17

Из C.Т. Колриджа.Сказание о старом мореходе. Часть 1 - 5.

Samuel Taylor Coleridge
The Rime of the Ancient Mariner
IN SEVEN PARTS
________________________________________
Facile credo, plures esse Naturas invisibiles quam visibiles in rerum universitate. Sed horum omnium familiam quis nobis enarrabit ? et gradus et cognationes et discrimina et singulorum munera ? Quid agunt ? quae loca habitant ? Harum rerum notitiam semper ambivit ingenium humanum, nunquam attigit. Juvat, interea, non diffiteor, quandoque in animo, tanquam in tabulâ, majoris et melioris mundi imaginem contemplari : ne mens assuefacta hodiernae vitae minutiis se contrahat nimis, et tota subsidat in pusillas cogitationes. Sed veritati interea invigilandum est, modusque servandus, ut certa ab incertis, diem a nocte, distinguamus. - T. Burnet, Archaeol. Phil., p. 68 (slightly edited by Coleridge).
Translation
________________________________________
ARGUMENT
How a Ship having passed the Line was driven by storms to the cold Country towards the South Pole ; and how from thence she made her course to the tropical Latitude of the Great Pacific Ocean ; and of the strange things that befell ; and in what manner the Ancyent Marinere came back to his own Country.
PART I
An ancient Mariner meeteth three Gallants bidden to a wedding-feast, and detaineth one.
It is an ancient Mariner,
And he stoppeth one of three.
`By thy long beard and glittering eye,
Now wherefore stopp'st thou me ?
The Bridegroom's doors are opened wide,
And I am next of kin ;
The guests are met, the feast is set :
May'st hear the merry din.'
He holds him with his skinny hand,
`There was a ship,' quoth he.
`Hold off ! unhand me, grey-beard loon !'
Eftsoons his hand dropt he.
The Wedding-Guest is spell-bound by the eye of the old seafaring man, and constrained to hear his tale.
He holds him with his glittering eye--
The Wedding-Guest stood still,
And listens like a three years' child :
The Mariner hath his will.
The Wedding-Guest sat on a stone :
He cannot choose but hear ;
And thus spake on that ancient man,
The bright-eyed Mariner.
`The ship was cheered, the harbour cleared,
Merrily did we drop
Below the kirk, below the hill,
Below the lighthouse top.
The Mariner tells how the ship sailed southward with a good wind and fair weather, till it reached the Line.
The Sun came up upon the left,
Out of the sea came he !
And he shone bright, and on the right
Went down into the sea.
Higher and higher every day,
Till over the mast at noon--'
The Wedding-Guest here beat his breast,
For he heard the loud bassoon.
The Wedding-Guest heareth the bridal music ; but the Mariner continueth his tale.
The bride hath paced into the hall,
Red as a rose is she ;
Nodding their heads before her goes
The merry minstrelsy.
The Wedding-Guest he beat his breast,
Yet he cannot choose but hear ;
And thus spake on that ancient man,
The bright-eyed Mariner.
The ship driven by a storm toward the south pole.
`And now the STORM-BLAST came, and he
Was tyrannous and strong :
He struck with his o'ertaking wings,
And chased us south along.
With sloping masts and dipping prow,
As who pursued with yell and blow
Still treads the shadow of his foe,
And forward bends his head,
The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast,
The southward aye we fled.
And now there came both mist and snow,
And it grew wondrous cold :
And ice, mast-high, came floating by,
As green as emerald.
The land of ice, and of fearful sounds where no living thing was to be seen.
And through the drifts the snowy clifts
Did send a dismal sheen :
Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken--
The ice was all between.
The ice was here, the ice was there,
The ice was all around :
It cracked and growled, and roared and howled,
Like noises in a swound !
Till a great sea-bird, called the Albatross, came through the snow-fog, and was received with great joy and hospitality.
At length did cross an Albatross,
Thorough the fog it came ;
As if it had been a Christian soul,
We hailed it in God's name.
It ate the food it ne'er had eat,
And round and round it flew.
The ice did split with a thunder-fit ;
The helmsman steered us through !
And lo ! the Albatross proveth a bird of good omen, and followeth the ship as it returned northward through fog and floating ice.
And a good south wind sprung up behind ;
The Albatross did follow,
And every day, for food or play,
Came to the mariner's hollo !
In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud,
It perched for vespers nine ;
Whiles all the night, through fog-smoke white,
Glimmered the white Moon-shine.'
The ancient Mariner inhospitably killeth the pious bird of good omen.
`God save thee, ancient Mariner !
From the fiends, that plague thee thus !--
Why look'st thou so ?'--With my cross-bow
I shot the ALBATROSS.
PART II
The Sun now rose upon the right :
Out of the sea came he,
Still hid in mist, and on the left
Went down into the sea.
And the good south wind still blew behind,
But no sweet bird did follow,
Nor any day for food or play
Came to the mariners' hollo !
His shipmates cry out against the ancient Mariner, for killing the bird of good luck.
And I had done an hellish thing,
And it would work 'em woe :
For all averred, I had killed the bird
That made the breeze to blow.
Ah wretch ! said they, the bird to slay,
That made the breeze to blow !
But when the fog cleared off, they justify the same, and thus make themselves accomplices in the crime.
Nor dim nor red, like God's own head,
The glorious Sun uprist :
Then all averred, I had killed the bird
That brought the fog and mist.
'Twas right, said they, such birds to slay,
That bring the fog and mist.
The fair breeze continues ; the ship enters the Pacific Ocean, and sails northward, even till it reaches the Line.
The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew,
The furrow followed free ;
We were the first that ever burst
Into that silent sea.
The ship hath been suddenly becalmed.
Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down,
'Twas sad as sad could be ;
And we did speak only to break
The silence of the sea !
All in a hot and copper sky,
The bloody Sun, at noon,
Right up above the mast did stand,
No bigger than the Moon.
Day after day, day after day,
We stuck, nor breath nor motion ;
As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean.
And the Albatross begins to be avenged.
Water, water, every where,
And all the boards did shrink ;
Water, water, every where,
Nor any drop to drink.
The very deep did rot : O Christ !
That ever this should be !
Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs
Upon the slimy sea.
About, about, in reel and rout
The death-fires danced at night ;
The water, like a witch's oils,
Burnt green, and blue and white.
A Spirit had followed them ; one of the invisible inhabitants of this planet, neither departed souls nor angels ; concerning whom the learned Jew, Josephus, and the Platonic Constantinopolitan, Michael Psellus, may be consulted. They are very numerous, and there is no climate or element without one or more.
And some in dreams assuréd were
Of the Spirit that plagued us so ;
Nine fathom deep he had followed us
From the land of mist and snow.
And every tongue, through utter drought,
Was withered at the root ;
We could not speak, no more than if
We had been choked with soot.
The shipmates, in their sore distress, would fain throw the whole guilt on the ancient Mariner : in sign whereof they hang the dead sea-bird round his neck.
Ah ! well a-day ! what evil looks
Had I from old and young !
Instead of the cross, the Albatross
About my neck was hung.
PART III
There passed a weary time. Each throat
Was parched, and glazed each eye.
A weary time ! a weary time !
How glazed each weary eye,
When looking westward, I beheld
A something in the sky.
The ancient Mariner beholdeth a sign in the element afar off.
At first it seemed a little speck,
And then it seemed a mist ;
It moved and moved, and took at last
A certain shape, I wist.
A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist !
And still it neared and neared :
As if it dodged a water-sprite,
It plunged and tacked and veered.
At its nearer approach, it seemeth him to be a ship ; and at a dear ransom he freeth his speech from the bonds of thirst.
With throats unslaked, with black lips baked,
We could nor laugh nor wail ;
Through utter drought all dumb we stood !
I bit my arm, I sucked the blood,
And cried, A sail ! a sail !
A flash of joy ;
With throats unslaked, with black lips baked,
Agape they heard me call :
Gramercy ! they for joy did grin,
And all at once their breath drew in,
As they were drinking all.
And horror follows. For can it be a ship that comes onward without wind or tide ?
See ! see ! (I cried) she tacks no more !
Hither to work us weal ;
Without a breeze, without a tide,
She steadies with upright keel !
The western wave was all a-flame.
The day was well nigh done !
Almost upon the western wave
Rested the broad bright Sun ;
When that strange shape drove suddenly
Betwixt us and the Sun.
It seemeth him but the skeleton of a ship.
And straight the Sun was flecked with bars,
(Heaven's Mother send us grace !)
As if through a dungeon-grate he peered
With broad and burning face.
And its ribs are seen as bars on the face of the setting Sun.
Alas ! (thought I, and my heart beat loud)
How fast she nears and nears !
Are those her sails that glance in the Sun,
Like restless gossameres ?
The Spectre-Woman and her Death-mate, and no other on board the skeleton ship.
And those her ribs through which the Sun
Did peer, as through a grate ?
And is that Woman all her crew ?
Is that a DEATH ? and are there two ?
Is DEATH that woman's mate ?
[first version of this stanza through the end of Part III]
Like vessel, like crew !
Her lips were red, her looks were free,
Her locks were yellow as gold :
Her skin was as white as leprosy,
The Night-mare LIFE-IN-DEATH was she,
Who thicks man's blood with cold.
Death and Life-in-Death have diced for the ship's crew, and she (the latter) winneth the ancient Mariner.
The naked hulk alongside came,
And the twain were casting dice ;
`The game is done ! I've won ! I've won !'
Quoth she, and whistles thrice.
No twilight within the courts of the Sun.
The Sun's rim dips ; the stars rush out :
At one stride comes the dark ;
With far-heard whisper, o'er the sea,
Off shot the spectre-bark.
At the rising of the Moon,
We listened and looked sideways up !
Fear at my heart, as at a cup,
My life-blood seemed to sip !
The stars were dim, and thick the night,
The steerman's face by his lamp gleamed white ;
From the sails the dew did drip--
Till clomb above the eastern bar
The hornéd Moon, with one bright star
Within the nether tip.
One after another,
One after one, by the star-dogged Moon,
Too quick for groan or sigh,
Each turned his face with a ghastly pang,
And cursed me with his eye.
His shipmates drop down dead.
Four times fifty living men,
(And I heard nor sigh nor groan)
With heavy thump, a lifeless lump,
They dropped down one by one.
But Life-in-Death begins her work on the ancient Mariner.
The souls did from their bodies fly,--
They fled to bliss or woe !
And every soul, it passed me by,
Like the whizz of my cross-bow !
PART IV
The Wedding-Guest feareth that a Spirit is talking to him ;
`I fear thee, ancient Mariner !
I fear thy skinny hand !
And thou art long, and lank, and brown,
As is the ribbed sea-sand.
(Coleridge's note on above stanza)
I fear thee and thy glittering eye,
And thy skinny hand, so brown.'--
Fear not, fear not, thou Wedding-Guest !
This body dropt not down.
But the ancient Mariner assureth him of his bodily life, and proceedeth to relate his horrible penance.
Alone, alone, all, all alone,
Alone on a wide wide sea !
And never a saint took pity on
My soul in agony.
He despiseth the creatures of the calm,
The many men, so beautiful !
And they all dead did lie :
And a thousand thousand slimy things
Lived on ; and so did I.
And envieth that they should live, and so many lie dead.
I looked upon the rotting sea,
And drew my eyes away ;
I looked upon the rotting deck,
And there the dead men lay.
I looked to heaven, and tried to pray ;
But or ever a prayer had gusht,
A wicked whisper came, and made
My heart as dry as dust.
I closed my lids, and kept them close,
And the balls like pulses beat ;
For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky
Lay like a load on my weary eye,
And the dead were at my feet.
But the curse liveth for him in the eye of the dead men.
The cold sweat melted from their limbs,
Nor rot nor reek did they :
The look with which they looked on me
Had never passed away.
An orphan's curse would drag to hell
A spirit from on high ;
But oh ! more horrible than that
Is the curse in a dead man's eye !
Seven days, seven nights, I saw that curse,
And yet I could not die.
In his loneliness and fixedness he yearneth towards the journeying Moon, and the stars that still sojourn, yet still move onward ; and every where the blue sky belongs to them, and is their appointed rest, and their native country and their own natural homes, which they enter unannounced, as lords that are certainly expected and yet there is a silent joy at their arrival.
The moving Moon went up the sky,
And no where did abide :
Softly she was going up,
And a star or two beside--
Her beams bemocked the sultry main,
Like April hoar-frost spread ;
But where the ship's huge shadow lay,
The charméd water burnt alway
A still and awful red.
By the light of the Moon he beholdeth God's creatures of the great calm.
Beyond the shadow of the ship,
I watched the water-snakes :
They moved in tracks of shining white,
And when they reared, the elfish light
Fell off in hoary flakes.
Within the shadow of the ship
I watched their rich attire :
Blue, glossy green, and velvet black,
They coiled and swam ; and every track
Was a flash of golden fire.
Their beauty and their happiness.
He blesseth them in his heart.
O happy living things ! no tongue
Their beauty might declare :
A spring of love gushed from my heart,
And I blessed them unaware :
Sure my kind saint took pity on me,
And I blessed them unaware.
The spell begins to break.
The self-same moment I could pray ;
And from my neck so free
The Albatross fell off, and sank
Like lead into the sea.
PART V
Oh sleep ! it is a gentle thing,
Beloved from pole to pole !
To Mary Queen the praise be given !
She sent the gentle sleep from Heaven,
That slid into my soul.
By grace of the holy Mother, the ancient Mariner is refreshed with rain.
The silly buckets on the deck,
That had so long remained,
I dreamt that they were filled with dew ;
And when I awoke, it rained.
My lips were wet, my throat was cold,
My garments all were dank ;
Sure I had drunken in my dreams,
And still my body drank.
I moved, and could not feel my limbs :
I was so light--almost
I thought that I had died in sleep,
And was a blesséd ghost.
He heareth sounds and seeth strange sights and commotions in the sky and the element.
And soon I heard a roaring wind :
It did not come anear ;
But with its sound it shook the sails,
That were so thin and sere.
The upper air burst into life !
And a hundred fire-flags sheen,
To and fro they were hurried about !
And to and fro, and in and out,
The wan stars danced between.
And the coming wind did roar more loud,
And the sails did sigh like sedge ;
And the rain poured down from one black cloud ;
The Moon was at its edge.
The thick black cloud was cleft, and still
The Moon was at its side :
Like waters shot from some high crag,
The lightning fell with never a jag,
A river steep and wide.
The bodies of the ship's crew are inspired, and the ship moves on ;
The loud wind never reached the ship,
Yet now the ship moved on !
Beneath the lightning and the Moon
The dead men gave a groan.
They groaned, they stirred, they all uprose,
Nor spake, nor moved their eyes ;
It had been strange, even in a dream,
To have seen those dead men rise.
The helmsman steered, the ship moved on ;
Yet never a breeze up-blew ;
The mariners all 'gan work the ropes,
Where they were wont to do ;
They raised their limbs like lifeless tools--
We were a ghastly crew.
The body of my brother's son
Stood by me, knee to knee :
The body and I pulled at one rope,
But he said nought to me.
But not by the souls of the men, nor by dæmons of earth or middle air, but by a blessed troop of angelic spirits, sent down by the invocation of the guardian saint.
`I fear thee, ancient Mariner !'
Be calm, thou Wedding-Guest !
'Twas not those souls that fled in pain,
Which to their corses came again,
But a troop of spirits blest :
For when it dawned--they dropped their arms,
And clustered round the mast ;
Sweet sounds rose slowly through their mouths,
And from their bodies passed.
Around, around, flew each sweet sound,
Then darted to the Sun ;
Slowly the sounds came back again,
Now mixed, now one by one.
Sometimes a-dropping from the sky
I heard the sky-lark sing ;
Sometimes all little birds that are,
How they seemed to fill the sea and air
With their sweet jargoning !
And now 'twas like all instruments,
Now like a lonely flute ;
And now it is an angel's song,
That makes the heavens be mute.
It ceased ; yet still the sails made on
A pleasant noise till noon,
A noise like of a hidden brook
In the leafy month of June,
That to the sleeping woods all night
Singeth a quiet tune.
[Additional stanzas, dropped after the first edition.]
Till noon we quietly sailed on,
Yet never a breeze did breathe :
Slowly and smoothly went the ship,
Moved onward from beneath.
The lonesome Spirit from the south-pole carries on the ship as far as the Line, in obedience to the angelic troop, but still requireth vengeance.
Under the keel nine fathom deep,
From the land of mist and snow,
The spirit slid : and it was he
That made the ship to go.
The sails at noon left off their tune,
And the ship stood still also.
The Sun, right up above the mast,
Had fixed her to the ocean :
But in a minute she 'gan stir,
With a short uneasy motion--
Backwards and forwards half her length
With a short uneasy motion.
Then like a pawing horse let go,
She made a sudden bound :
It flung the blood into my head,
And I fell down in a swound.
The Polar Spirit's fellow-dæmons, the invisible inhabitants of the element, take part in his wrong ; and two of them relate, one to the other, that penance long and heavy for the ancient Mariner hath been accorded to the Polar Spirit, who returneth southward.
How long in that same fit I lay,
I have not to declare ;
But ere my living life returned,
I heard and in my soul discerned
Two voices in the air.
`Is it he ?' quoth one, `Is this the man ?
By him who died on cross,
With his cruel bow he laid full low
The harmless Albatross.
The spirit who bideth by himself
In the land of mist and snow,
He loved the bird that loved the man
Who shot him with his bow.'
The other was a softer voice,
As soft as honey-dew :
Quoth he, `The man hath penance done,
And penance more will do.'
PART VI
FIRST VOICE
`But tell me, tell me ! speak again,
Thy soft response renewing--
What makes that ship drive on so fast ?
What is the ocean doing ?'
SECOND VOICE
`Still as a slave before his lord,
The ocean hath no blast ;
His great bright eye most silently
Up to the Moon is cast--
If he may know which way to go ;
For she guides him smooth or grim.
See, brother, see ! how graciously
She looketh down on him.'
The Mariner hath been cast into a trance ; for the angelic power causeth the vessel to drive northward faster than human life could endure.
FIRST VOICE
`But why drives on that ship so fast,
Without or wave or wind ?'
SECOND VOICE
`The air is cut away before,
And closes from behind.
Fly, brother, fly ! more high, more high !
Or we shall be belated :
For slow and slow that ship will go,
When the Mariner's trance is abated.'
The supernatural motion is retarded ; the Mariner awakes, and his penance begins anew.
I woke, and we were sailing on
As in a gentle weather :
'Twas night, calm night, the moon was high ;
The dead men stood together.
All stood together on the deck,
For a charnel-dungeon fitter :
All fixed on me their stony eyes,
That in the Moon did glitter.
The pang, the curse, with which they died,
Had never passed away :
I could not draw my eyes from theirs,
Nor turn them up to pray.
The curse is finally expiated.
And now this spell was snapt : once more
I viewed the ocean green,
And looked far forth, yet little saw
Of what had else been seen--
Like one, that on a lonesome road
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And having once turned round walks on,
And turns no more his head ;
Because he knows, a frightful fiend
Doth close behind him tread.
But soon there breathed a wind on me,
Nor sound nor motion made :
Its path was not upon the sea,
In ripple or in shade.
It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek
Like a meadow-gale of spring--
It mingled strangely with my fears,
Yet it felt like a welcoming.
Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship,
Yet she sailed softly too :
Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze--
On me alone it blew.
And the ancient Mariner beholdeth his native country.
Oh ! dream of joy ! is this indeed
The light-house top I see ?
Is this the hill ? is this the kirk ?
Is this mine own countree ?
We drifted o'er the harbour-bar,
And I with sobs did pray--
O let me be awake, my God !
Or let me sleep alway.
The harbour-bay was clear as glass,
So smoothly it was strewn !
And on the bay the moonlight lay,
And the shadow of the Moon.
[Additional stanzas, dropped after the first edition.]
The rock shone bright, the kirk no less,
That stands above the rock :
The moonlight steeped in silentness
The steady weathercock.
The angelic spirits leave the dead bodies,
And the bay was white with silent light,
Till rising from the same,
Full many shapes, that shadows were,
In crimson colours came.
And appear in their own forms of light.
A little distance from the prow
Those crimson shadows were :
I turned my eyes upon the deck--
Oh, Christ ! what saw I there !
Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat,
And, by the holy rood !
A man all light, a seraph-man,
On every corse there stood.
This seraph-band, each waved his hand :
It was a heavenly sight !
They stood as signals to the land,
Each one a lovely light ;
This seraph-band, each waved his hand,
No voice did they impart--
No voice ; but oh ! the silence sank
Like music on my heart.
But soon I heard the dash of oars,
I heard the Pilot's cheer ;
My head was turned perforce away
And I saw a boat appear.
[Additional stanza, dropped after the first edition.]
The Pilot and the Pilot's boy,
I heard them coming fast :
Dear Lord in Heaven ! it was a joy
The dead men could not blast.
I saw a third--I heard his voice :
It is the Hermit good !
He singeth loud his godly hymns
That he makes in the wood.
He'll shrieve my soul, he'll wash away
The Albatross's blood.
PART VII
The Hermit of the Wood,
This Hermit good lives in that wood
Which slopes down to the sea.
How loudly his sweet voice he rears !
He loves to talk with marineres
That come from a far countree.
He kneels at morn, and noon, and eve--
He hath a cushion plump :
It is the moss that wholly hides
The rotted old oak-stump.
The skiff-boat neared : I heard them talk,
`Why, this is strange, I trow !
Where are those lights so many and fair,
That signal made but now ?'
Approacheth the ship with wonder.
`Strange, by my faith !' the Hermit said--
`And they answered not our cheer !
The planks looked warped ! and see those sails,
How thin they are and sere !
I never saw aught like to them,
Unless perchance it were
Brown skeletons of leaves that lag
My forest-brook along ;
When the ivy-tod is heavy with snow,
And the owlet whoops to the wolf below,
That eats the she-wolf's young.'
`Dear Lord ! it hath a fiendish look--
(The Pilot made reply)
I am a-feared'--`Push on, push on !'
Said the Hermit cheerily.
The boat came closer to the ship,
But I nor spake nor stirred ;
The boat came close beneath the ship,
And straight a sound was heard.
The ship suddenly sinketh.
Under the water it rumbled on,
Still louder and more dread :
It reached the ship, it split the bay ;
The ship went down like lead.
The ancient Mariner is saved in the Pilot's boat.
Stunned by that loud and dreadful sound,
Which sky and ocean smote,
Like one that hath been seven days drowned
My body lay afloat ;
But swift as dreams, myself I found
Within the Pilot's boat.
Upon the whirl, where sank the ship,
The boat spun round and round ;
And all was still, save that the hill
Was telling of the sound.
I moved my lips--the Pilot shrieked
And fell down in a fit ;
The holy Hermit raised his eyes,
And prayed where he did sit.
I took the oars : the Pilot's boy,
Who now doth crazy go,
Laughed loud and long, and all the while
His eyes went to and fro.
`Ha ! ha !' quoth he, `full plain I see,
The Devil knows how to row.'
And now, all in my own countree,
I stood on the firm land !
The Hermit stepped forth from the boat,
And scarcely he could stand.
The ancient Mariner earnestly entreateth the Hermit to shrieve him ; and the penance of life falls on him.
`O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man !'
The Hermit crossed his brow.
`Say quick,' quoth he, `I bid thee say--
What manner of man art thou ?'
Forthwith this frame of mine was wrenched
With a woful agony,
Which forced me to begin my tale ;
And then it left me free.
And ever and anon through out his future life an agony constraineth him to travel from land to land ;
Since then, at an uncertain hour,
That agony returns :
And till my ghastly tale is told,
This heart within me burns.
I pass, like night, from land to land ;
I have strange power of speech ;
That moment that his face I see,
I know the man that must hear me :
To him my tale I teach.
What loud uproar bursts from that door !
The wedding-guests are there :
But in the garden-bower the bride
And bride-maids singing are :
And hark the little vesper bell,
Which biddeth me to prayer !
O Wedding-Guest ! this soul hath been
Alone on a wide wide sea :
So lonely 'twas, that God himself
Scarce seeméd there to be.
O sweeter than the marriage-feast,
'Tis sweeter far to me,
To walk together to the kirk
With a goodly company !--
To walk together to the kirk,
And all together pray,
While each to his great Father bends,
Old men, and babes, and loving friends
And youths and maidens gay !
And to teach, by his own example, love and reverence to all things that God made and loveth.
Farewell, farewell ! but this I tell
To thee, thou Wedding-Guest !
He prayeth well, who loveth well
Both man and bird and beast.
He prayeth best, who loveth best
All things both great and small ;
For the dear God who loveth us,
He made and loveth all.
The Mariner, whose eye is bright,
Whose beard with age is hoar,
Is gone : and now the Wedding-Guest
Turned from the bridegroom's door.
He went like one that hath been stunned,
And is of sense forlorn :
A sadder and a wiser man,
He rose the morrow morn.
________________________________________
1797-1798, first version published 1798, 1800, 1802, 1805; revised version, including addition of his marginal glosses, published in 1817, 1828, 1829, 1834.
(proofed against E. H. Coleridge's 1927 edition of STC's poems and a ca. 1898 edition of STC's Poetical Works, ``reprinted from the early editions'')
To rest of poems
Из C.Т. Колриджа
Сказание о старом мореходе
Часть первая.
Спешат три щеголя на пир
К невесте молодой.
Но одного остановил
Вдруг Мореход Седой.

Сверкают молнией глаза,
Ибьется в них беда,
И вьется, рвется на ветру
Густая борода.

- Зачем меня остановил,
Не родственник, не сват?
На свадьбе гости собрались
И сладости стоят.

Там пир горой – вино рекой,
Друзей веселый круг …
На свадьбе ждут меня, постой,
С тобой мне не досуг!

Но вдруг беспечный взгляд Юнца
Застыл, ошеломлен:
Как будто смерть он повстречал,
Огнем мечей сражен.

Оледенел, окаменел,
Весь – нерожденный крик.
И как младенцем овладел
Его душой Старик.

На камень Юноша присел…
О роковая власть:
Вникать – глазам, внимать – словам,
Хранящим жар и страсть.

-Быстр  был корабль  и без забот
Прокладывал свой путь.
Мелькали храмы и холмы
С грустинкою чуть-чуть.

Вольнее ветра по волне
Скользил крылатый бриг,
Но лишь Экватора достиг –
Все изменилось вмиг.

Из моря выкатившись, диск
Все заревом залил:
Глаза слепил, тела палил
Нещадно, что есть сил.
И слева жар, и справа жар….
Спасенья нет для нас…
Но только свадебный фагот
Прервал его рассказ.

Невеста в дом вошла, легка
И лилии нежней,
И менестрели навека
Склонились перед ней.

Парила музыка, звеня,
Как молодости пыл…
Но Мореход возобновил
Рассказ, что прерван был.

По-детски затаивши дух,
Внимал ему юнец.
Не зная, будет ли седой
Истории конец.

Продолжил Путник свой рассказ,
Исполненный вины:
Несло свирепым штормом нас вдоль южной стороны.
Крылатый вихорь гнал на юг,

Сердился и спешил,
И в бездну рвался наш корабль –
Всевластьем мрачных сил.

И гнулась мачта, чуть дыша,
И опьяненный, не спеша,
Тонул наш верный бриг.
Но налетел ревущий шквал,
Корабль на крыльях приподнял,
На север бросив вмиг.

Туман рассеялся вокруг:
Серебряно поют
Седые льдины – выше мачт –
Прозрачный изумруд –

Зеленый плен, холодный плен…
И ни души вокруг.
А тишина звенит, искрясь,
Рождая в нас испуг….

Сверкали пики снежных гор,
Но блеск их страшен был:
Как будто всех – людей, зверей –
Тот лед похоронил.

Безбрежный лед, бескрайний лед,
Сковавший все вокруг, -
Гремел, трещал, рычал, стонал,
Как призрак – ночи друг.

В безлюдье сине-ледяном
Покой наш жуток был…
Но Альбатроса резкий крик
Тишь вдребезги разбил.

Отбросив крыльями туман,
Он радостно кричал,
И, словно Бог, заблудший дух
Он к жизни возвращал.

Он пищу ел из наших рук,
Садясь на мачты ствол.
Он возвестил нам ледоход,
И рулевой повел!

Наш Альбатрос! Наш благовест!
Летел он впереди!
Он радость нес, он охранял
Покой наш на пути.

Белесый Месяц наблюдал 
Из белых облаков,
Как девять дней лю.бимец наш
Был гостем моряков.

Лишь колокол пробьет ко сну,
И он сюда спешит
И, как маяк, бессонный глаз
Его в ночи горит…

Любимец общий… Почему
Его я не любил?
О, белый свет! Мой арбалет
Невинного убил!

- Старик, ты Дьявол, Сатана,
Ведь всех ты погубил!
- Великий грех судьбой своей
Уже я искупил.

Часть вторая

Вот Солнце справа из волны
Взошло на небосвод.
Но слева закатилось вдруг
В пучину синих вод.

И ветер парусом играл,
Но ни одна из птиц
Уж не рвалась, как Альбатрос,
При виде наших лиц.

Удачи птица, без удач
Не дрогнувшей рукой
Убил тебя и потерял
Среди людей покой.

За этот грех теперь в Аду
Мне суждено гореть.
На всех накликал я беду
За Альбатроса смерть.
И все несут мой грех, мой крест
За альбатроса смерть!

Вновь Солнце озарило мрак,
Как Бога лик святой,
И все твердили: Альбатрос
Убит твоей рукой!
Он, как матрос, тот Альбатрос…
Убит твоей рукой!

Но ведь никто в тот страшный миг
Его не защитил…
Теперь же я – один, один,
Лишь я убийцей был.

А ветер парус надувал,
Корабль мчал вперед
Без опасенья, не страшась
Безмолвья тихих вод.

Встречал нас Тихий океан,
Лаская бризом бриг.
Но лишь Экватора достиг
Все изменилось вмиг.

Штиль и молчание вокруг:
Уснул в унынье бриз.
На мачте парус корабля
Безрадостно повис.

Залитый кровью Солнца лик
Величиной с Луну.
Горячий полдень возвестил
И зной, и тишину.

ъНи вздоха вод, ни ветерка,
Так замер в штиле мир…
И словно в графике, корабль
В морской волне застыл.

Природа начинала месть –
Мы все в ее руках.
И все за Альбатроса смерть
Расплатимся в веках!

Рассохшись, палуба трещит,
Хотя вода кругом.
Ни капли пресного питья
И в глотке – сухой ком.

И море, кажется, гниет
До глубины, насквозь.
И жмутся, вьются слизняки
Как спруты, вкривь и вкось.

Чернеет, зеленеет гладь –
Смердящая беда.
Как масло из лампады ведьм, -
Зловонная вода.

Дух Мести шел за нами вслед
Из царств Снегов и Тьмы.
Во сне являлся, будто Смерть,
Страшней самой чумы.

Тот дух Иосифу знаком,
Но не знаком земным.
Не оставлял он нас и днем,
Стоял, как смертный дым.

Язык в гортани пересох
И душит, и знобит.
И, будто бот, раскрытый рот
Весь сажею забит.

В глазах – испуг, беззвучен звук –
Проклятья верный жест.
На шее – Альбатроса труп
Висит, как Адский крест.
Часть третья

Гортань суха. Задушен крик.
И взгляд стеклянным стал.
Распластан нерв. Растянут миг –
От времени устал.
На Западе – очерчен бриг –
Вниманье приковал.

Хотя, быть может, и не бриг –
В нам Божий знак узнал,
Что в небесах явился мне,
Но пятнышком вдруг стал.

Как снежный ком, росло пятно,
Укутавшись в туман;
Парил меж небом и водой
Корабль… или обман?

Пятно? Туман? Корабль? Как знать?
Но движется, плывет!
И, будто пьяный водяной
Фрегат ведет вперед.

Ведет вперед… в могильный штиль?
Без ветра и ветрил
Во искупление грехов
Небесный бриг скользил.

Хотелось плакать. Спасены
У роковой черты…
Но пересох язык насквозь,
Черны немые рты.

Ограждены, защищены…
Грешно в сей миг молчать!
Оковы жажды не снести –
Так хочется кричать.

Рассек я руку, оросив
Кровавой влагой рот,
И прохрипел, что было сил:
Корабль, корабль плывет!

Он килем держится прямым,
Хоть ветра нет сейчас.
Мессия, избавитель наш,
Он не покинет нас.

Надежда, чаянье, мечта…
Но страшно, если вдруг
Тот ком туманный не корабль,
Ведь полный штиль вокруг.

Закат на Западе пылал,
И вечер замирал.
За краем моря Солнца диск
Зловеще отдыхал.
Ивдруг опять корабль – мираж
На горизонте встал.

То не спасенье – черный бриг!
И Солнце, мнится мне,
Покрылось сеткой костяной –
Решеткой, как в тюрьме.

Широкощекий Солнца лик
Сквозь остов корабля
Пылает заревом огня
Недоброе суля.

Все ближе мертвенный фрегат…
О ужас! Как нам быть?!
И в сердце – бешеный набат,
И страх уже не скрыть!

И паутинки-паруса
Средь огненных лучей
Горят на ребрах корабля,
Как лезвия мечей.

Корабль-призрак, боль неволь…
Там, на борту его,
Со Смертью бродит тень ее
И больше – никого…

Касаясь кончиков ногтей
«Воркуют» до утра
Та жизнь –и-в Смерти – Скорби Тень –
И смерть – ее сестра.

Кровавый рот, незрячий взгляд.
Косм – золотой огонь.
Проказа – бледное лицо
И – мертвая ладонь…

Смертельный страх! Кошмарный бред!
И сумрак всех ночей!
И холодеет в жилах кровь
От ужаса пред ней!

Но поравнялись корабли
И видно было нам:
На наши жизни Близнецы
Играли в кости там.

И трижды свистнув, Смерти Тень
Шипит, хрипит: «Он мой!»
Отбой… Не свой… Отныне – твой –
Мой жребий роковой!

И Солнце рухнуло во мглу…
Спасительная ночь!
Волна, шепча и рокоча,
Гнала корабль прочь.

Струила мир в ночной эфир
Медовая Луна.
Мерцали звезды-ночники,
Но было не до сна.

Бледно у штурмана лицо,
Как лампы свет больной.
Роса стекает с парусов
Блестящей пеленой…
И свет пронзительной звезды
Горит моей виной.

Упал на палубу один,
Другой… Очерчен круг!
Как по команде, полегли
Все трупами вокруг.
Не проронив ни вздох, ни стон,
И не испуг – недуг –
Проклятие прочел в глазах
Остекленевших вдруг.

Как глины падающей звук,
Что короток и глух,
Валились грудой моряки,
И покидал их дух.

Их было двести на борту.
И двести душ навек,
Покинув бренные тела,
Ища иной ночлег,

Меня крылами осенив,
Звеня летели вдаль,
Напомнив звуком арбалет,
Принесший в мир печаль.

Часть четвертая

- Боюсь, ты страшен мне, Старик!
Страшна рука твоя.
Она костлява и суха,
Как остов корабля.

Мне страшен блеск палящих глаз.
Ты душу заложил!
_ К чему мне зло тебе чинить,
Коль смерть я пережил?

Один, один, всегда один –
С собой наедине!
И даже Бог в недобрый час
Не вспомнит обо мне…


Смерть лучших выбрала
Себе. Мертвы мои друзья.
Зато живучи слизняки,
А вместе с ними я.

Взгляну за борт – гниет вода,
Но жутче во сто крат,
Когда с тобою рядом в ряд
Лишь мертвецы лежат.

С молитвой к Богу, но ее
Не услыхал Господь.
А злобный шепот иссушил
Мне сердце, мозг и плоть.

Я веки силился закрыть,
Чтобы усталость подавить, -
Зрачки, как пульс стучат.
Не в силах выдержать, глаза:
Мертвы ваода и небеса,
И мертвые молчат…

Но как живой, красноречив, -
Боль нерожденных слов –
Тот взгляд винит, вопит, стучит,
Как маятник часов.
Тот взгляд – со мной – мой часовой –
Без слов – в остатках снов.

Я ненавидел этот взгляд
Семь дней и семь ночей подряд
И был бы смерти своей рад,
Но ею не был взят.

Луна взошла на небеса,
Купаясь в вышине.
И свет ее тонул в волне,
Как иней по весне.

А в тех местах, где корабля
Ложилась тень стеной,
Как заколдована вода:
Кипит кровавая беда –
Кипит моей виной!

Вдруг рядом с тенью корабля
Увидел слизняков:
Пронзивши свет собой насквозь,
Они вились и вкривь, и вкось
Среди морских валов.

Сплетались кольцами, горя
Соцветьем предо мной:
Один – небесно-голубой,
Как изумруд густой – другой
И бархатно – ночной.

Они прекрасны. Красоту
Их не опишет стих.
Они – живые существа,
Люблю всем сердцем их.
Я тварей Божих возлюбил
И Духа гнев утих.

Неистово молиться стал,
Легко мне, наконец.
И рухнул с шеи Альбатрос
Пав в море, как свинец.
Часть пятая

Счастливый сон! Счастливый миг!
А счастью все под стать!
Молитвы Деве воздаю,
Пославшей благодать.
Пусть душу вылечит мою,
Позволив мирно спать.

Сплю я иль грежу наяву?
Иль вправду дождь идет?
И бочки, кажется, полны
Преснейшей из всех вод.

Одежда вымокла насквозь.
Пью нервом, телом, ртом,
Как пил в мечтах, далеких снах.
Только теперь не сон.

Я ног не чую под собой,
Как будто невесом.
Иль, может, привиденьем стал,
Иль это снова сон?

Нет! Свежий ветер загудел
И парус вдруг запел,
Зоть столько дней опущен был
И, как живой, болел.

Вновь атмосфера ожила!
И лампочки-флажки
То вспыхнут здесь, то вспыхнут там.
И звезд пленительный канкан…
И чудеса близки.

А ветер креп – уже свиреп
И парус вновь разбух.
И дождь могуч из черных туч,
И свет Луны потух.

Обломки молний и огня,
Срываясь, вниз неслись.
Как из ведра, лилась вода,
Все захлебнулось в ней тогда,
Смешались море, высь.

И стали души рпилетать
В тела людей опять.
И поднимались мертвецы,
Начав стенать, стонать.

Безумен, страшен этот мир –
На грани всех миров –
Бродящих молча мертвецов
Средь молний и ветров.

Сменилось штилем все вокруг,
Но двигался фрегат,
И привиденья – моряки
Тянули свой канат,
Как это делали они
При жизни сотни крат.

Средь них – племянник мой родной:
Остекленевший взгляд
И руки холодны его,
Хоть тащит он какнат.

- Тебя страшусь, о Мореход!
Напрасно, не спеши.
Ты думал, в грешные тела
Вернулся грех души?
Чисты от суеты мирской,
Дарили Духи им покой.

Потом, колена преклонив,
У мачты собрались,
И звуки сладкие из ртов,
Из тел их, полились.

И устремлялись звуки ввысь,
И вновь слетали вниз,
Созвучьем и аккордом став,
Как гения каприз.

Парила жаворонка песнь
В воздушной высоте.
И сотни маленьких пичуг
Так пели сладостно вокруг,
Как в голубой мечте.

И флейты соло нежный звук,
Оркестра стройный лад.
И Духов хор, перед каким
Немеют Рай и Ад.

Затихло все. Лишь парусов
Был неумолчен строй,
Как перезвоны ручейка
Июньскою порой,
Что навевают тихий сон
В полуденный покой.

Без ветра продвигались мы
В оскале знойном дня.
Экватор близился уже,
Пугая и меня.

Мы плыли, но не знаю как.
Дух Тьмы и всех Снегов
Под килем в древней глуби вод,
Корабль наш продвигал вперед,
Бесстрастно и без слов.

Но вдруг в зените Солнца диск
Качнулся, как шальной,
Едва не придавив  корабль
Своей величиной.
И резко поднялся опять,
Струя истошный зной.

Конь взбеленившийся, он вдруг
Рванулся на меня…
И кровь мне прилила к лицу.
И чувств лишился я….

Не помню, долго ли лежал.
Очнулся, как во сне:
В седом пространстве – голоса,
Как будто сами небеса
Вещают обо мне.

- Кто сей ужасный Мореход?
Не он ли всх сгубил,
Чей смертоносный арбалет
Невинного убил?

Христос свидетель, Альбатрос
Любимцем общим был.
Владыка Тьмы и всех Снегов
Его боготворил.
А этот жалкий человек
Невинного убил.

И отвечал ему другой,
Чей голос, словно мед:
- Кто в этот мир пришел со злом,
Наказан будет тот.

Кажется, напортачила, господа редакторы?  smile1)Дала  5 частей гужом? Есть еще две - но их еще не набила в компьютер.

Отредактировано galinapodolsky (2008-10-15 01:58:59)

Неактивен

 
  • Форум
  •  » Переводы
  •  » Из C.Т. Колриджа.Сказание о старом мореходе. Часть 1 - 5.

Board footer

Powered by PunBB
© Copyright 2002–2005 Rickard Andersson