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  • Текст песни Henry Wadsworth Longfellow - 20 - The Famine

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    На этой странице находится текст песни Henry Wadsworth Longfellow - 20 - The Famine, а также перевод песни и видео или клип.
    The Famine

    Oh the long and dreary Winter!

    Oh the cold and cruel Winter!

    Ever thicker, thicker, thicker

    Froze the ice on lake and river,

    Ever deeper, deeper, deeper

    Fell the snow o'er all the landscape,

    Fell the covering snow, and drifted

    Through the forest, round the village.

    Hardly from his buried wigwam

    Could the hunter force a passage;

    With his mittens and his snow-shoes

    Vainly walked he through the forest,

    Sought for bird or beast and found none,

    Saw no track of deer or rabbit,

    In the snow beheld no footprints,

    In the ghastly, gleaming forest

    Fell, and could not rise from weakness,

    Perished there from cold and hunger.

    Oh the famine and the fever!

    Oh the wasting of the famine!

    Oh the blasting of the fever!

    Oh the wailing of the children!

    Oh the anguish of the women!

    All the earth was sick and famished;

    Hungry was the air around them,

    Hungry was the sky above them,

    And the hungry stars in heaven

    Like the eyes of wolves glared at them!

    Into Hiawatha's wigwam

    Came two other guests, as silent

    As the ghosts were, and as gloomy,

    Waited not to be invited

    Did not parley at the doorway

    Sat there without word of welcome

    In the seat of Laughing Water;

    Looked with haggard eyes and hollow

    At the face of Laughing Water.

    And the foremost said: "Behold me!

    I am Famine, Bukadawin!"

    And the other said: "Behold me!

    I am Fever, Ahkosewin!"

    And the lovely Minnehaha

    Shuddered as they looked upon her,

    Shuddered at the words they uttered,

    Lay down on her bed in silence,

    Hid her face, but made no answer;

    Lay there trembling, freezing, burning

    At the looks they cast upon her,

    At the fearful words they uttered.

    Forth into the empty forest

    Rushed the maddened Hiawatha;

    In his heart was deadly sorrow,

    In his face a stony firmness;

    On his brow the sweat of anguish

    Started, but it froze and fell not.

    Wrapped in furs and armed for hunting,

    With his mighty bow of ash-tree,

    With his quiver full of arrows,

    With his mittens, Minjekahwun,

    Into the vast and vacant forest

    On his snow-shoes strode he forward.
    "Gitche Manito, the Mighty!"

    Cried he with his face uplifted

    In that bitter hour of anguish,

    "Give your children food, O father!

    Give us food, or we must perish!

    Give me food for Minnehaha,

    For my dying Minnehaha!"

    Through the far-resounding forest,

    Through the forest vast and vacant

    Rang that cry of desolation,

    But there came no other answer

    Than the echo of his crying,

    Than the echo of the woodlands,

    "Minnehaha! Minnehaha!"

    All day long roved Hiawatha

    In that melancholy forest,

    Through the shadow of whose thickets,

    In the pleasant days of Summer,

    Of that ne'er forgotten Summer,

    He had brought his young wife homeward

    From the land of the Dacotahs;

    When the birds sang in the thickets,

    And the streamlets laughed and glistened,

    And the air was full of fragrance,

    And the lovely Laughing Water

    Said with voice that did not tremble,

    "I will follow you, my husband!"

    In the wigwam with Nokomis,

    With those gloomy guests that watched her,

    With the Famine and the Fever,

    She was lying, the Beloved,

    She, the dying Minnehaha.

    "Hark!" she said; "I hear a rushing,

    Hear a roaring and a rushing,

    Hear the Falls of Minnehaha

    Calling to me from a distance!"

    "No, my child!" said old Nokomis,

    "`T is the night-wind in the pine-trees!"

    "Look!" she said; "I see my father

    Standing lonely at his doorway,

    Beckoning to me from his wigwam

    In the land of the Dacotahs!"

    "No, my child!" said old Nokomis.

    "`T is the smoke, that waves and beckons!"

    "Ah!" said she, "the eyes of Pauguk

    Glare upon me in the darkness,

    I can feel his icy fingers

    Clasping mine amid the darkness!

    Hiawatha! Hiawatha!"

    And the desolate Hiawatha,

    Far away amid the forest,

    Miles away among the mountains,

    Heard that sudden cry of anguish,

    Heard the voice of Minnehaha

    Calling to him in the darkness,

    "Hiawatha! Hiawatha!"

    Over snow-fields waste and pathless,

    Under snow-encumbered branches,

    Homeward hurried Hiawatha,

    Empty-handed, heavy-hearted,

    Heard Nokomis moaning, wailing:

    "Wahonowin! Wahonowin!

    Would that I had perished for you,

    Would that I were dead as you are!

    Wahonowin! Wahonowin!"

    And he rushed into the wigwam,

    Saw the old Nokomis slowly

    Rocking to and fro and moaning,

    Saw his lovely Minnehaha

    Lying dead and cold before him,

    And his bursting heart within him

    Uttered such a cry of anguish,

    That the forest moaned and shuddered,

    That the very stars in heaven

    Shook and trembled with his anguish.

    Then he sat down, still and speechless,

    On the bed of Minnehaha,

    At the feet of Laughing Water,

    At those willing feet, that never

    More would lightly run to meet him,

    Never more would lightly follow.

    With both hands his face he covered,

    Seven long days and nights he sat there,

    As if in a swoon he sat there,

    Speechless, motionless, unconscious

    Of the daylight or the darkness.

    Then they buried Minnehaha;

    In the snow a grave they made her

    In the forest deep and darksome

    Underneath the moaning hemlocks;

    Clothed her in her richest garments

    Wrapped her in her robes of ermine,

    Covered her with snow, like ermine;

    Thus they buried Minnehaha.

    And at night a fire was lighted,

    On her grave four times was kindled,

    For her soul upon its journey

    To the Islands of the Blessed.

    From his doorway Hiawatha
    Saw it burning In the forest,

    Lighting up the gloomy hemlocks;

    From his sleepless bed uprising,

    From the bed of Minnehaha,

    Stood and watched it at the doorway,

    That it might not be extinguished,

    Might not leave her in the darkness.

    "Farewell!" said he, "Minnehaha!

    Farewell, O my Laughing Water!

    All my heart is buried with you,

    All my thoughts go onward with you!

    Come not back again to labor,

    Come not back again to suffer,

    Where the Famine and the Fever

    Wear the heart and waste the body.

    Soon my task will be completed,

    Soon your footsteps I shall follow

    To the Islands of the Blessed,

    To the Kingdom of Ponemah,

    To the Land of the Hereafter!"

    Смотрите также:

    Все тексты Henry Wadsworth Longfellow >>>

    Clashing Bey среди темноты!

    Hiawatha! Hiawatha! »

    И опустошенная глава,

    Далеко на фоне леса,

    Миль от гор,

    Слышал, что внезапный крик муки,

    Слышал голос Миннехаха

    Призывая к нему во тьме,

    "Hiawatha! Hiawatha!"

    Над снежными полями отходы и бездорожья,

    Под заснеженные ветви,

    Домашняя поспешила Hiawatha,

    Пустые, тяжелые,

    Слышал нокомис стонал, плача:

    "Wahonowin! Wahonowin!

    Бы что я погибло за тебя,

    Будет ли я был мертв, как вы!

    Wahonowin! Wahonowin! »

    И он бросился в Вигвам,

    Увидел старого нокомиса медленно

    Качающийся и сюда и стонать,

    Увидел его прекрасную Миннехаху

    Лежать мертвым и холодным перед ним,

    И его разрывное сердце внутри него

    Произнес такой крик муки,

    Что лес застонал и вздрогнул,

    Что самые звезды на небесах

    Потряс и дрожал со своей мукой.

    Затем он сел, все еще и дар речи,

    На кровати Миннехаха,

    У ног смеющейся воды,

    На этих желающих ногах, что никогда

    Больше будет слегка, чтобы встретиться с ним,

    Никогда больше не будет слегка следовать.

    С обеими руками его лицо он покрыл,

    Семь долгих дней и ночей он сидел там,

    Как будто в обморок он сидел там,

    Безмолвный, неподвижный, без сознания

    Дневного света или тьмы.

    Затем они похоронили Миннехаха;

    В снегу могила они сделали ее

    В лесу глубоко и темный

    Под стонойными боликотами;

    Одел ее в ее самые богатые одежды

    Обернулся ей в своих одеждах премин,

    Покрыл ее снегом, как ermine;

    Таким образом они похоронили Миннехаха.

    И ночью огонь был освещен,

    На ее могиле четыре раза были ожог,

    Для ее души на его путешествие

    На островах благословения.

    Из его дверного проема Hiawatha
    Видел это гореть в лесу,

    Освещение мрачных болиголов;

    От его восстания бессонной кровати,

    От кровати Миннехаха,

    Стоял и смотрел его в дверях,

    Что это может не погасить,

    Не может оставить ее во тьме.

    "Прощальный привет!" сказал он, "Миннехаха!

    Прощай, моя смеющаяся вода!

    Все мое сердце похоронено с тобой,

    Все мои мысли идут дальше с тобой!

    Не вернусь снова к труду,

    Не вернусь снова, чтобы страдать,

    Где голод и лихорадка

    Носите сердце и отшлите тело.

    Вскоре моя задача будет завершена,

    Скоро ваши шаги я буду следовать

    На островах благословения,

    В царство понемы,

    На землю в дальнейшей! »

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