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The Demon / Демон. Книга для чтения на английском языке. Михаил Лермонтов
Читать онлайн.Название The Demon / Демон. Книга для чтения на английском языке
Год выпуска 1830
isbn 978-5-9925-1427-8
Автор произведения Михаил Лермонтов
Жанр Русская классика
Серия Русская классическая литература на иностранных языках (Каро)
Издательство КАРО
But not a human tear!
VIII
And so he came, prepared to give
His heart in love, his soul to light.
He thought the time had come to live
A new life on this longed-for night.
As though at a first assignation
The proud soul felt a strange, shy thrill,
A shuddering, timid expectation:
It was a sign that boded ill!
He entered, looked around. Before him
The lovely sinner's Guardian stood,
Heaven's messenger, bright cherubim,
With smiling lips and brow of flame.
So, the fell enemy forestalling,
The brilliant spirit of the Good
Had gathered her beneath his wing.
The Demon looked for tender greeting —
But light divine upon him beating
And stern rebuke upon him came:
IX
«Spirit of idleness and sin,
At this dark hour who called you? say!
You have no servants here within
These sacred walls, nor to this day
Has breath of evil visited
This charge of mine, to you forbid…
Who called you?» – Subtly in reply
The Demon smiled but in him woke
The ancient hate of hell. His eye
Flashed fiery-jealous as he spoke
Upon the messenger divine:
«Leave her!» he said. «For she is mine!
Too late you came, good guardian – see
You are no judge of such as we
For her proud heart belongs to me.
No charge is she of powers above
Here I am lord, and here I love!» —
Sad-eyed, the angel bent his glance
Upon the evil spirit's prey
Then slowly flapped his great wings once
And through the ether soared away.
…
X
Tamara
Who are you? You are perilous
Say – are you come from heaven or hell?
What do you want?
The Demon
What loveliness!
Tamara
But speak, who are you? You must tell.
The Demon
I am he to whom you barkened
In the stillness of the night,
He whose thought your mind has darkened,
He whose sadness you have felt,
Whose image haunts your waking sight,
Whose name the end of hope has spelt
To every soul with whom I treat.
I am he no man may love,
A scourge to all my mortal slaves,
The ill in nature. Enemy
To Heaven and all the powers above.
Lord of knowledge, liberty.
And, as you see, I'm at your feet.
Moved beyond all that I have known
I would speak softly in your ears
Quiet prayers of love. Tell of my pain,
My first on earth, and my first tears.
Ah hear me out, for pity's sake!
One word from you would quite restore me.
Robed in the love of your pure heart
I might again resume my part
In the angelic ranks and take
An aspect new and a new glory.
Ah, hear me, hear me I implore you,
I am your slave and I adore you!
No sooner did I see you than
I felt a sudden, veiled revulsion
For immortality and power;
And I was drawn by strange compulsion
To envy the frail joys of man;
Life without you became a torment
To be apart from you – a horror.
A living ray of warmth, a portent
Of fair renewal touched my heart
And set the cold blood coursing. Sorrow
Beneath the scar stirred like a serpent
Awakening an ancient pain.
For, tell me, without you what gain
Is there in my infinity?
Endless dominion, majesty?
Loud, empty words – a spacious fane
Devoid of all divinity!
Tamara
Leave me, false spirit of deceit
Be silent, for I will not trust
The Enemy. Ah God… some sweet
Insistent poison saps resolve —
I cannot say the prayer I must —
Your words are fire and I dissolve
And melt in them. I cannot see…
But say: how came you to love me?
The Demon
How, lovely one? – I do not know,
My life is wondrous full and new,
The crown of thorns I proudly cast
With my own hands from off my brow.
All that I have been shattered lies:
My heaven and hell are in your eyes.
I love you with a passion vast.
You cannot love as I love you,
With all the ecstasy and power
Of deathless thought and dreams sublime.
Since the beginning of all time
Your image on the eternal air
Has gone before me – till this hour.
My soul has long been troubled by
The sweet sounds of the name you bear;
And in my days of blessedness
You were my only lack. If only
You could but understand the lonely
Embittered boredom of existence
When, century on century,
Alone in suffering and joy
In evil meeting no resistance,
For good receiving no reward,
Enclosed in self, by self most bored,
A