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XenoX - offline XenoX
Exclamation01-03-2004 02:22 URL сообщения      K-Mail    Профиль    Поиск    Контакт-лист   Редактировать
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Помогите найти.

Нужны стихи Эдгара По в оригинале или хотя бы "ворон".
Ещё нужны стихи Киплинга в оригинале.
И второй момент Вы Алису в стране чудес читали(оригинал)?
Если кто помнит стих шалтая болтая запостите здесь.
На руском звучит так(вроде):
Веркалось, хливкие шарки
Пырялись по наве
И хрюкотали Зилюки,
Как мумзики в маве!

JimmyM - offline JimmyM
01-03-2004 07:13 URL сообщения      K-Mail    Профиль    Поиск    Контакт-лист   Редактировать
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Если кто помнит стих шалтая болтая...


JABBERWOCKY

- Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

- Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jujub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought
So rested he by the Tumtum gree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wook,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

- And has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Calloh! Callay!
He chortled in his joy.

- Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

XenoX - offline XenoX
Thumbs up01-03-2004 08:01 URL сообщения      K-Mail    Профиль    Поиск    Контакт-лист   Редактировать
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Огромное спасибо...А кто-нибудь полностью это переводил на руский?А то у меня только 4 строчки...

JimmyM - offline JimmyM
01-03-2004 09:32 URL сообщения      K-Mail    Профиль    Поиск    Контакт-лист   Редактировать
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Была у нас, кажется, когда-то тема с переводами Jabberwocky... или в каком-то дневнике это было ?... Вот только найти проблематично

XenoX - offline XenoX
02-03-2004 05:32 URL сообщения      K-Mail    Профиль    Поиск    Контакт-лист   Редактировать
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На форуме была?(щас поищу...)

Adramelek - offline Adramelek
03-03-2004 01:45 URL сообщения      K-Mail    Профиль    Поиск    Контакт-лист   Редактировать
Некрофил



THE RAVEN


Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore -
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chambler door.
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chambler door -
Only this and nothing more."


Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.


And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is and nothing more."


Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard your" - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness here and nothing more.


Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood here wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore?"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!"
Merely this and nothing more.


Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see, then, shat thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
"'Tis the wind and nothing more!"


Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.


Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."


Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannor help agreeing that no living human being
Even yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Birds or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."


But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing farther then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered, "Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said, "Nevermore."


Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtness," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of 'Never - nevermore.'"


But the Raven still beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this omnious bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."


This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!


Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore;
Quaff, oh, quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."


"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
Whether Tempter sent, or whether temptest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by Horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."


"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By the Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden, if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."


"Be that word our sign of parting, bird or friend!" I shriked, upstarting -
"Get thee back into the temptest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."


And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!

XenoX - offline XenoX
03-03-2004 03:10 URL сообщения      K-Mail    Профиль    Поиск    Контакт-лист   Редактировать
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Огромное спасибо...

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