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Так получилось, что книга ко мне попала в тяжелый эмоциональный кризис и многое мне дала. Написано актуально, тут многих полезных вещей, никакого злоу...
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Once Upon a Time and Other Child-Verses
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But up to its terrible blue snow-gates
Little Peachling marched with his retinue.
Then the ogres swarmed out on the castle-
towers,
The drums beat loud, and the trumpets
brayed,
And magical arrows came rustling around —
But our brave little rônin was not afraid.
For his pheasant flew over the castle-wall,
And his ape undid the castle-gate;
And brave Little Peachling, his dog at heel,
Into the castle then marched in state.
His little dog snapped at the ogres' heels;
His pheasant picked at their round green
eyes;
And his ape tweaked away at the ogres' locks,
As only an ape can do when he tries.
And the little rônin, around him he laid,
With his muramasa so thick and fast,
That the king of the ogres was prisoner
made;
And the ogres' castle was taken at last.
Oh, measures of pearls and wedges of gold!
Oh, the jars of musk and the coral-bars,
Amber and emeralds, tortoise-shells,
And diamonds shining like strings of stars!
Gold-brocade coats, and wonderful gems
That regulated the green sea-tide!
It's always the loveliest things in the world
Which the treasure-castles of ogres hide.
With the treasures, the dog, the pheasant and
ape,
Little Peachling home to his parents ran;
And the old woodman and his loving wife
Were the happiest couple in all Japan.
A SWING
O THEY made her a swing on a gossamer-
tree, on the lowest bough of a gossamer-tree;
And she swung so far, I have heard, she could
see
The next year's rose and honey-bee, and the
gifts on the next year's Christmas-tree —
But I fear 'tis a story, O dear me!
THE YOUNGEST TELLS HER STORY
YOU think that I can't tell a story —
Just wait – no! 'tisn't 'bout Jack
Mory;
This morning, it was early quite,
I saw a little fairy knight,
With silver boots and silver shield,
A-tramping through the clover-field.
He held a spear that looked like grass,
But 'twas a truly spear of glass;
A silver bugle at his lips,
He played with tiny finger-tips;
He held a flag o' grass-green silk;
A branch of lilies white as milk;
He held – "How many hands had he?"
You're cruel to make fun of me!
No! I won't tell another bit;
You've lost the sweetest part of it!
A SONG
SING a song of a little lass (red blow the
roses, O ),
About a lovely little lass, who was so like a
rose, you know,
(Red blow the roses, O ), so very like when
placed together,
They only told her from a rose because she
bloomed in winter weather.
HER PROOF
SHE lifted her finger with gesture slow:
"'Tis true, for certain and sure, I know,
And I think when I say so you ought to be-
lieve —
They kneel in their stalls on Christmas Eve.
"The red one, the white one, the speckled
and brown,
When the clock strikes twelve, will all kneel
down;
And it happens so every Christmas Eve,
– Well, I'll tell you this, if you won't believe:
Little Peachling marched with his retinue.
Then the ogres swarmed out on the castle-
towers,
The drums beat loud, and the trumpets
brayed,
And magical arrows came rustling around —
But our brave little rônin was not afraid.
For his pheasant flew over the castle-wall,
And his ape undid the castle-gate;
And brave Little Peachling, his dog at heel,
Into the castle then marched in state.
His little dog snapped at the ogres' heels;
His pheasant picked at their round green
eyes;
And his ape tweaked away at the ogres' locks,
As only an ape can do when he tries.
And the little rônin, around him he laid,
With his muramasa so thick and fast,
That the king of the ogres was prisoner
made;
And the ogres' castle was taken at last.
Oh, measures of pearls and wedges of gold!
Oh, the jars of musk and the coral-bars,
Amber and emeralds, tortoise-shells,
And diamonds shining like strings of stars!
Gold-brocade coats, and wonderful gems
That regulated the green sea-tide!
It's always the loveliest things in the world
Which the treasure-castles of ogres hide.
With the treasures, the dog, the pheasant and
ape,
Little Peachling home to his parents ran;
And the old woodman and his loving wife
Were the happiest couple in all Japan.
A SWING
O THEY made her a swing on a gossamer-
tree, on the lowest bough of a gossamer-tree;
And she swung so far, I have heard, she could
see
The next year's rose and honey-bee, and the
gifts on the next year's Christmas-tree —
But I fear 'tis a story, O dear me!
THE YOUNGEST TELLS HER STORY
YOU think that I can't tell a story —
Just wait – no! 'tisn't 'bout Jack
Mory;
This morning, it was early quite,
I saw a little fairy knight,
With silver boots and silver shield,
A-tramping through the clover-field.
He held a spear that looked like grass,
But 'twas a truly spear of glass;
A silver bugle at his lips,
He played with tiny finger-tips;
He held a flag o' grass-green silk;
A branch of lilies white as milk;
He held – "How many hands had he?"
You're cruel to make fun of me!
No! I won't tell another bit;
You've lost the sweetest part of it!
A SONG
SING a song of a little lass (red blow the
roses, O ),
About a lovely little lass, who was so like a
rose, you know,
(Red blow the roses, O ), so very like when
placed together,
They only told her from a rose because she
bloomed in winter weather.
HER PROOF
SHE lifted her finger with gesture slow:
"'Tis true, for certain and sure, I know,
And I think when I say so you ought to be-
lieve —
They kneel in their stalls on Christmas Eve.
"The red one, the white one, the speckled
and brown,
When the clock strikes twelve, will all kneel
down;
And it happens so every Christmas Eve,
– Well, I'll tell you this, if you won't believe:
Последний отзыв
Так получилось, что книга ко мне попала в тяжелый эмоциональный кризис и многое мне дала. Написано актуально, тут многих полезных вещей, никакого злоу...
Далее