Джордж Гордон Байрон на английском

🔮A Fragment: When, To Their Airy Hall🔮 When, to their airy hall, my father’s voice Shall call my spirit, joyful in their choice; When, poised upon the gale, my form shall ride, Or, dark in mist, descend the mountains side; Oh! may my shade behold no sculptured urns, To mark the spot where earth to earth returns! No lengthen’d scroll, no praise-encumber’d stone; My epitaph shall be my name alone: If that with honour fail to crown my clay, Oh! may no other fame my deeds repay! That, only that, shall single out the spot; By that remember’d, or with that forgot. Читает Леонтович Ульяна

⏳It Is The Hour⌛ It is the hour when from the boughs The nightingale's high note is heard; It is the hour--when lover's vows Seem sweet in every whisper'd word; And gentle winds and waters near, Make music to the lonely ear. Each flower the dews have lightly wet, And in the sky the stars are met, And on the wave is deeper blue, And on the leaf a browner hue, And in the Heaven that clear obscure So softly dark, and darkly pure, That follows the decline of day As twilight melts beneath the moon away. Читает Гаценко Виктория

💃🏻She Walks in Beauty💃🏻 She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that’s best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes; Thus mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies. One shade the more, one ray the less, Had half impaired the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress, Or softly lightens o’er her face; Where thoughts serenely sweet express, How pure, how dear their dwelling-place. And on that cheek, and o’er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent! Читают Мистюк Каролина, Коновалова Николь

🖤Twilight🖤 It is the hour when from the boughs The nightingale"s high note is heard; It is the hour when lovers" vows Seem sweet in every whispered word; And gentle winds and waters near, Make music to the lovely ear. Each flower the dews have lightly wet,  and in the sky the stars are met, And on the wave is deeper blue, And on the leaf a browner hue, And in the heaven that clear obscure, So softy dark, and darkly pure, Which follows the decline of day, As twilight melts beneath the moon away. Читает Валиуллина Зарина

🌔🌓Darkness🌒🌑 I had a dream, which was not all a dream. The bright sun was extinguished, and the stars Did wander darkling in the eternal space, Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air; Morn came and went -and came, and brought no day, And men forgot their passions in the dread Of this their desolation; and all hearts Were chilled into a selfish prayer for light; And they did live by watchfires -and the thrones, The palaces of crowned kings -the huts, The habitations of all things which dwell, Were burnt for beacons; cities were consumed, And men were gathered round their blazing homes To look once more into each other's face; Happy were those which dwelt within the eye Of the volcanoes, and their mountain-torch; A fearful hope was all the world contained; Forests were set on fire -but hour by hour They fell and faded -and the crackling trunks Extinguished with a crash -and all was black. Читают Вильга Светлана, Ткаченко Анастасия

🌙So, we'll go no more a roving🌙 So, we'll go no more a roving So late into the night, Though the heart be still as loving, And the moon be still as bright. For the sword outwears its sheath, And the soul wears out the breast, And the hearth must pause to breathe, And love itself have rest. Though the night was made for loving, And the days return too soon, Yet we'll go no more a roving By the light of the moon. Читают Вараксина Виктория, Решетицкая Анастасия, Мошкова Анастасия, Володкевич Елизавета, Лецик Павел, Гусаковская Кристина, Гаспарян Валерия 

📜Elegy📜 O, snatch'd away in beauty’s bloom! On thee shall press noo ponderous tomb; But on thy turf shall roses rear Their leaves, the earliest of the year, And the wild cypress wave in tender gloom. And oft by yon blue gushing stream Shall Sorrow lean her drooping head, And feed deep thought with many a dream, And lingering pause and lightly tread; Fond wretch! as if her step disturb'd the dead! Away! we know that tears are vain, That Death nor heeds nor hears distress: Will this unteach us to complain? Or make one mourner weep the less? And thou, who tell'st me to forget, Thy looks are wan, thine eyes are wet. Читают Мохомор Виктория, Суслова Дарья

🧛🏻‍♀️The Vampyre🧛🏻‍♂️ But first, on earth as vampire sent, Thy corse shall from its tomb be rent, Then ghastly haunt thy native place, And suck the blood of all thy race. There from thy daughter, sister, wife, At midnight drain the stream of life, Yet loathe the banquet which perforce Must feed thy livid living corse. Thy victims ere they yet expire Shall know the demon for their sire, As cursing thee, thou cursing them, Thy flowers are withered on the stem. Wet with thine own best blood shall drip Thy gnashing tooth and haggard lip; Then stalking to thy sullen grave, Go---and with Gouls and Afrits rave; Till these in horror shrink away From Spectre more accursed than they! Читают Водолазова Мария, Гащенко Ярослав, Боханцев Иван, Шраменко Елизавета, Корнилов Богдан

🌫️A Spirit Passed Before Me🌫️ A spirit passed before me: I beheld The face of immortality unveiled - Deep sleep came down on every eye save mine - And there it stood, -all formless -but divine: Along my bones the creeping flesh did quake; And as my damp hair stiffened, thus it spake: "Is man more just than God? Is man more pure Than He who deems even Seraphs insecure? Creatures of clay -vain dwellers in the dust! The moth survives you, and are ye more just? Things of a day! you wither ere the night, Heedless and blind to Wisdom's wasted light!" Читает Хмельницкая Юлия

👩🏼‍❤️‍💋‍🧑🏻All for Love👩🏼‍❤️‍💋‍🧑🏻 Oh, talk not to me of a name great in story; The days of our youth are the days of our glory; And the myrtle and ivy of sweet two-and-twenty Are worth all your laurels, though ever so plenty. What are garlands and crowns to the brow that is wrinkled? 'Tis but as a dead flower with May-dew besprinkled: Then away with all such from the head that is hoary! What care I for the wreaths that can only give glory? O Fame! -if I e'er took delight in thy praises, 'Twas less for the sake of thy high-sounding phrases, Than to see the bright eyes of the dear one discover She thought that I was not unworthy to love her. There chiefly I sought thee, there only I found thee; Her glance was the best of the rays that surround thee; When it sparkled o'er aught that was bright in my story, I knew it was love, and I felt it was glory. Читают Поляков Олег, Бирина Элина, Черкасова Анастасия

💃🏻She Walks in Beauty💃🏻 She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that’s best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes; Thus mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies. One shade the more, one ray the less, Had half impaired the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress, Or softly lightens o’er her face; Where thoughts serenely sweet express, How pure, how dear their dwelling-place. And on that cheek, and o’er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent! Читает Платонова Мария, Яровая Лада, Коновалова Ксения, Наталуха Валентин, Попова Анастасия, Чурюмов Денис, Кошель Дарья, Дощечкина Дарья

🥀Oh! Snatched away in beauty's bloom🥀 Oh! snatched away in beauty's bloom, On thee shall press no ponderous tomb; But on thy turf shall roses rear Their leaves, the earliest of the year; And the wild cypress wave in tender gloom: And oft by yon blue gushing stream Shall Sorrow lean her drooping head, And feed deep thought with many a dream, And lingering pause and lightly tread; Fond wretch! as if her step disturbed the dead! Away I we know that tears are vain, That death nor heeds nor hears distress: Will this unteach us to complain? Or make one mourner weep the less? And thou--who tell'st me to forget, Thy looks are wan, thine eyes are wet. Читает Русляев Кирилл