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My Heart’s in the Highlands, my heart is not here;
My Heart’s in the Highlands a chasing a deer;
Chasing the wild deer, and following the roe;
My Heart’ s in the Highlands, wherever I go.
Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North;
The birthplace of Valour, the country of Worth;
Wherever I wander, wherever I rove,
The hills of the Highlands for ever I love.
Farewell to the mountains high covered with snow;
Farewell to the straths and green vallies below;
Farewell to the forests and wild – handing woods;
Farewell to the torrents and loud – pouring floods.
My Heart’ s in the Highlands, my heart is not here;
My Heart’ s in the Highlands a chasing a deer;
Chasing the wild deer, and following the roe;
My Heart’ s in the Highlands, wherever I go.

В горах мое сердце… Доныне я там
По следу оленя лечу по скалам.
Гоню я оленя, пугаю козу.
В горах мое сердце, а сам я внизу.
Прощай, моя родина! Север, прощай,
Отечество славы и доблести край.
По белому свету судьбою гоним,
Навеки останусь я сыном твоим!
Прощайте, вершины под кровлей снегов,
Прощайте, долины и скаты лугов,
Прощайте, поникшие в бездну леса,
Прощайте, потоков лесных голоса.
В горах мое сердце… Доныне я там
По следу оленя лечу по скалам.
Гоню я оленя, пугаю козу.
В горах мое сердце, а сам я внизу.

O my love is like a red, red rose
That’s newly sprung in June:
O my love is like the melodie
That’s sweetly play’d in tune.
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in love am I:
And I will love thee still, my dear,
Till all the seas gang dry:
Till all the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt with the sun;
And I will love thee still, my dear,
While the sands of life shall run.
And fare thee weel, my only love,
And fare thee weel a while!
And I will come again, my love,
Though it were ten thousand mile!

Любовь, как роза, роза красная,
Цветет в моем саду.
Любовь моя – как песенка,
С которой в путь иду.
Сильнее красоты твоей
Моя любовь одна.
Она с тобой, пока моря
Не высохнут до дна.
Не высохнут моря, мой друг,
Не рушится гранит,
Не остановится песок,
А он, как жизнь, бежит…
Будь счастлива, моя любовь,
Прощай и не грусти.
Вернусь к тебе, хоть целый свет
Пришлось бы мне пройти!

Four little letters unto each;

And yet you will not find in all

The wide and gracious range of speech

Two more so tenderly complete:

When angels talk in Heaven above,

I'm sure they have no words more sweet

Than Home and Love.

Just Home and Love! it's hard to guess

Which of the two were best to gain;

Home without Love is bitterness;

Love without Home is often pain.

Somehow they travel hand and glove:

If you win one you must have two,

Both Home and Love.

And if you've both, well then I'm sure

You ought to sing the whole day long;

It doesn't matter if you're poor

With these to make divine your song.

And so I praisefully repeat,

When angels talk in Heaven above,

There are no words more simply sweet

Than Home and Love.

I shot an arrow info the air,
If fell to earth, I knew not where;
For, so swiftly it flew, the sight
Could not follow it in its flight.
I breathed a song info the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For who has sight so keen and strong
That it can follow the flight of a song?
Long, long afterward, in an oak
I found the arrow still unbroke;
And the song, from beginning to end,
I found again in the heart of a friend.

Из лука ввысь взвилась стрела…
Не знаю где она легла.
И мне глядящему вперед,
Невидим был ее полет.
И песня в мир моя ушла…
Не знаю где она легла.
За тьмой лесов, за цепь гор
Не уследил за песней взор.
Прошли года. Стрела нашлась…
В широкий дуб она впилась…
А песнь, с начала до конца,
Моих друзей хранят сердца.

Перевод Б. Томашевского

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

Кто говорит, мир от огня
Погибнет, кто от льда.
А что касается меня,
Я за огонь стою всегда.
Но если дважды гибель ждет
Наш мир земной, – ну что ж,
Тогда для разрушенья лед
Хорош,
И тоже подойдет.

Перевод М. Зенкевича.

They often bark, more seldom bite;

But yet a Dog is, on the whole,

What you would call a simple soul.

Of course I'm not including Pekes,

And such fantastic canine freaks.

The usual Dog about the Town

Is much inclined to play the clown

And far from showing too much pride

Is frequently undignified.

Just chuck him underneath the chin

Or slap his back or shake his paw,

And he will gambol and guffaw.

He's such an easy-going lout,

He'll answer any hail or shout.

Again I must remind you that

A Dog's a Dog – A CAT'S A CAT.

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings – nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds worth of distance run –
Yours is the Earth and everything that s in it,
And – which is more – you ll be a Man, my son!

Останься прост, беседуя с царями,
Останься честен, говоря с толпой;
Будь прям и тверд с врагами и друзьями,
Пусть все, в свой час, считаются с тобой;
Наполни смыслом каждое мгновенье
Часов и дней неумолимый бег –
Тогда весь мир ты примешь, как владенье,
Тогда, мой сын, ты будешь Человек!

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare!
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.
No time to turn at beauty s glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.
A poor life this is if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

Что за жизнь, если полно забот
И расписано все наперед!
День за днем пролетают года
Мы торопимся все в никуда.
Но лишь стоит, зайти в этот лес,
Где деревья растут до небес
И ручьи, всегда полные звезд,
Отражают танец берез.
Нету времени, что отдохнуть,
На цветочной поляне уснуть
Там, где белки прячут в траве
Горсть орехов на зиму себе.
Что за жизнь, если полно забот
И расписано все наперед!
День за днем пролетают года
Мы торопимся все вникуда.

This is the rat
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

That is the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

That is the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn.
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the priest all shaven and shorn,
That married the man all tattered and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cock that crowed in the morn,
That waked the priest all shaven and shorn,
That married the man all tattered and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

Lost your mittens,
You naughty kittens!

Then you shall have no pie.
Miew, miew, miew,
No, you shall have no pie.

Then you shall have some pie.
Purr, purr, purr,
Oh, let us have some pie.