полная версия
Роберт Льюис Стивенсон
Moral Emblems
NOT I, AND OTHER POEMS
Poem: NOT I
Some like drink
In a pint pot,
Some like to think;
Some not.
Strong Dutch cheese,
Old Kentucky rye,
Some like these;
Not I.
Some like Poe,
And others like Scott,
Some like Mrs. Stowe;
Some not.
Some like to laugh,
Some like to cry,
Some like chaff;
Not I.
Poem: II
Here, perfect to a wish,
We offer, not a dish,
But just the platter:
A book that’s not a book,
A pamphlet in the look
But not the matter.
I own in disarray:
As to the flowers of May
The frosts of Winter;
To my poetic rage,
The smallness of the page
And of the printer.
Poem: III
As seamen on the seas
With song and dance descry
Adown the morning breeze
An islet in the sky:
In Araby the dry,
As o’er the sandy plain
The panting camels cry
To smell the coming rain:
So all things over earth
A common law obey,
And rarity and worth
Pass, arm in arm, away;
And even so, to-day,
The printer and the bard,
In pressless Davos, pray
Their sixpenny reward.
Poem: IV
The pamphlet here presented
Was planned and printed by
A printer unindented,
A bard whom all decry.
The author and the printer,
With various kinds of skill,
Concocted it in Winter
At Davos on the Hill.
They burned the nightly taper;
But now the work is ripe -
Observe the costly paper,
Remark the perfect type!
MORAL EMBLEMS I
Poem: I
See how the children in the print
Bound on the book to see what’s in ‘t!
O, like these pretty babes, may you
Seize and apply this volume too!
And while your eye upon the cuts
With harmless ardour opes and shuts,
Reader, may your immortal mind
To their sage lessons not be blind.
Poem: II
Reader, your soul upraise to see,
In yon fair cut designed by me,
The pauper by the highwayside
Vainly soliciting from pride.
Mark how the Beau with easy air
Contemns the anxious rustic’s prayer,
And, casting a disdainful eye,
Goes gaily gallivanting by.
He from the poor averts his head.
He will regret it when he’s dead.
Poem: III – A PEAK IN DARIEN
Broad-gazing on untrodden lands,
See where adventurous Cortez stands;
While in the heavens above his head
The Eagle seeks its daily bread.
How aptly fact to fact replies:
Heroes and eagles, hills and skies.
Ye who contemn the fatted slave
Look on this emblem, and be brave.
Poem: IV
See in the print how, moved by whim,
Trumpeting Jumbo, great and grim,
Adjusts his trunk, like a cravat,
To noose that individual’s hat.
The sacred Ibis in the distance
Joys to observe his bold resistance.
Poem: V
Mark, printed on the opposing page,
The unfortunate effects of rage.
A man (who might be you or me)
Hurls another into the sea.
Poor soul, his unreflecting act
His future joys will much contract,
And he will spoil his evening toddy
By dwelling on that mangled body.
