Два перевода одного и того же всем известного стиха. Сначала вариант Смирнова-Садовского (гуглите), а ниже - мой. Без гугл-переводчика догадаетесь, что за оригинал и кто его автор 😉?
Смирнов-Садовский:
I keep in mind that magic moment:
When you appeared before my eyes
Like ghost, like fleeting apparition,
Like genius of the purest grace.
In torturous hopeless melancholy,
In vanity and noisy fuss
I’ve always heard your tender voice
I saw your features in my dreams.
Years passed away, and blasts of tempests
Have scattered all my previous dreams,
And I forgot your tender voice,
And holy features of your face.
In wilderness, in gloomy capture
My lonely days were slowly drawn:
I had not faith, no inspiration,
No tears, no life, no tender love.
But time has come, my soul awakened,
And you again appeared to me
Like ghost, like fleeting apparition,
Like genius of the purest grace.
My heart again pulsates in rapture,
And everything arouse again:
My former faith, and inspiration,
And tears, and life, and tender love.
=====
Мой перевод:
I remember that wonder flash:
Your apparition was so precious.
Like a visions evanescent splash
As a formosity's essence genius.
In a languor of a hopeless grief
And that restless and rowdy fluster
Are the pretty lineaments in a dream so brief
And the sound of voice so subtile.
The years rolled. A gale restive gust
Has scattered all the prior dreams,
Converting sphery features into dust,
Erasing sounds of the vocal streams.
Embrowned in a durance vile
I lingered all the days of mine
In a divineless fireless exile
With no tears, joy of life and love.
Now is the time of mental flush:
Your apparition is so precious
Like a visions evanescent splash
As a formosity's essence genius.
Now the heart beats on in desire,
Resurrecting by an intensive shove
All the divines and all the fire
With all the tears, joy of life and love.