Стихотворения

Among shadows deep,
And dream they see their child
Starv'd in desert wild.

Pale, thro' pathless ways
The fancied image strays
Famish'd, weeping, weak,
With hollow piteous shriek.

Rising from unrest,
The trembling woman prest
With feet of weary woe:
She could no further go.

In his arms he bore
Her, arm'd with sorrow sore;
Till before their way
A couching lion lay.

Turning back was vain:
Soon his heavy mane
Bore them to the ground.
Then he stalk'd around,

Smelling to his prey;
But their fears allay
When he licks their hands,
And silent by them stands.

They look upon his eyes
Fill'd with deep surprise;
And wondering behold
A spirit arm'd in gold.

On his head a crown;
On his shoulders down
Flow'd his golden hair.
Gone was all their care.

'Follow me,' he said;
'Weep not for the maid;
In my palace deep
Lyca lies asleep.'

Then they followed
Where the vision led,
And saw their sleeping child
Among tigers wild.

To this day they dwell
In a lonely dell;
Nor fear the wolfish howl
Nor the lions' growl.

Обретенная дочь. Перевод С. Степанова

Мать с отцом всю ночь
Тщетно ищут дочь —
Эхо, плачу вторя,
Делит с ними горе.

Так семь дней идут,
Девочку зовут
И вздыхают тяжко:
«Где она, бедняжка?!»

Спали семь ночей
Средь глухих теней;
В страшном сне им снилось:
«Лика заблудилась —

В чаще, без дороги,
Оцарапав ноги,
Бродит дни и ночи —
Выплакала очи!»

Сон лишь муки множит
Мать идти не может.
Но, ее жалея,
Стал отец сильнее —