| «Manners. For a Child of 1918» |  |
"Manners" by Elizabeth BishopВоспитание в 1918
Мы с дедушкой в вагоне поезда
Поехали куда-то.
"Всегда приветствуй
Добрыми словами
Того, кто подойдёт"
Шёл незнакомец,
Дедушка снял шляпу
"Здрасьте, сэр",
Я повторила,
И с поклоном,
Дедушкин привет.
Шёл Вилли, наш сосед,
И на плече сидела серая ворона.
"Всегда скажи приятное соседу" -
Дедушка учил.
Ворона почему-то каркнула и улетела.
И я подумала, а как она вернётся?
Но Вилли свистнул и она
Зaкаркала
Ему в ответ.
"Какая чудная ворона"-
Дедушка заметил -
"Она воспитана и отвечает,
Если с ней заговорить".
"Всегда, заметь,
И человек и тварь
Должны иметь хорошие манеры."
Какие-то автомобили, поднимая пыль,
Куда-то покатили мимо.
И дедушка кричал вдогонку
"Здрасьте, здрасьте,
Хороший день, однако".
Потом мы сели на телегу
И поднимались в гору,
Но так как была тяжело кобыле,
Мы слезли и пошли пешком
Как требовало наше воспитанье.
(186)
Elizabeth Bishop
Manners
For a Child of 1918
My grandfather said to me
as we sat on the wagon seat,
"Be sure to remember to always
speak to everyone you meet."
We met a stranger on foot.
My grandfather's whip tapped his hat.
"Good day, sir. Good day. A fine day."
And I said it and bowed where I sat.
Then we overtook a boy we knew
with his big pet crow on his shoulder.
"Always offer everyone a ride;
don't forget that when you get older,"
my grandfather said. So Willy
climbed up with us, but the crow
gave a "Caw!" and flew off. I was worried.
How would he know where to go?
But he flew a little way at a time
from fence post to fence post, ahead;
and when Willy whistled he answered.
"A fine bird," my grandfather said,
"and he's well brought up. See, he answers
nicely when he's spoken to.
Man or beast, that's good manners.
Be sure that you both always do."
When automobiles went by,
the dust hid the people's faces,
but we shouted "Good day! Good day!
Fine day!" at the top of our voices.
When we came to Hustler Hill,
he said that the mare was tired,
so we all got down and walked,
as our good manners required.
(186) |
Послесловие: Elizabeth Bishop
Poet
Elizabeth Bishop was an American poet and short-story writer. Poet Laureate
of the United States from 1949 to 1950, the Pulitzer Prize winner for Poetry
in 1956, the National Book Award winner in 1970.
Born: February 8, 1911, Worcester, Massachusetts, United States
Died: October 6, 1979, Boston, Massachusetts, United States
Buried: Hope Cemetery, Worcester, Massachusetts, United States
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