" - Мистер Доджсон, - сказал любопытный малыш..."
В комментариях к классическому отечественному переводу "Алисы" Кэрролла ("Лит. памятники", 3 издания) стишок про папу Вильяма ("Алиса в Стране Чудес", гл. V)
»You are old, Father William,« the young man said,
»And your hair has become very white;
And yet you incessantly stand on your head -
Do you think, at your age, it is right?«
»In my youth,« Father William replied to his son,
»I feared it might injure the brain;
But, now that I'm perfectly sure I have none,
Why, I do it again and again.«
»You are old,« said the youth, »as I mentioned before,
And have grown most uncommonly fat;
Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door -
Pray, what is the reason of that?«
»In my youth,« said the sage, as he shook his grey locks,
»I kept all my limbs very supple
By the use of this ointment - one shilling the box -
Allow me to sell you a couple?«
»You are old,« said the youth, »and your jaws are too weak
For anything tougher than suet;
Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak -
Pray, how did you manage to do it?«
»In my youth,« said his father, »I took to the law,
And argued each case with my wife;
And the muscular strength, which it gave to my jaw
Has lasted the rest of my life.«
»You are old,« said the youth, »one would hardly suppose
That your eye was as steady as ever;
Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose -
What made you so awfully clever?«
»I have answered three questions, and that is enough,«
Said his father. »Don't give yourself airs!
Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?
Be off, or I'll kick you down-stairs!«
(в "Лит. памятниках" сохранен старый перевод Маршака, в силу его известности, хотя перевод Маршака появился задолго до демуровского перевода "Алисы")
объявлен пародией на стихотворение Роберта Саути
THE OLD MAN'S COMFORTS AND HOW HE GAINED THEM
You are old, Father William, the young man cried,
The few locks which are left you are grey;
You are hale, Father William, a hearty old man,
Now tell me the reason I pray.
In the days of my youth, Father William replied,
I remember'd that youth would fly fast,
And abused not my health and my vigour at first
That I never might need them at last.
You are old, Father William, the young man cried,
And pleasures with youth pass away,
And yet you lament not the days that are gone,
Now tell me the reason I pray.
In the days of my youth, Father William replied,
I remember'd that youth could not last;
I thought of the future whatever I did,
That I never might grieve for the past.
You are old, Father William, the young man cried,
And life must be hastening away;
You are chearful, and love to converse upon death!
Now tell me the reason I pray.
I am chearful, young man, Father William replied,
Let the cause thy attention engage;
In the days of my youth I remember'd my God!
And He hath not forgotten my age.
1816
При этом Демурова в комментарии приводит мнение современного Саути литератора о том, что Саути "бессознательно пародировал философию Уордсворта" и также пишет, что в образе папы Вильяма мог быть выведен сам Уильям Вордсворт. (Вордсворт, кстати, стал Поэтом-Лауреатом после смерти Саути в 1843 г.)
Между тем эти неуверенные догадки гворят о плохой осведомленности Демуровой (да и остальных комментаторов "Алисы"). Ибо какие могут быть сомения в том, что The Old Man's Comforts Саути - пусть не совсем пародия на вот это стихотворение Вордсворта, но явно написано по его мотивам. Вордсворт, конечно, говоря "Уильям", имеет в виду себя:
EXPOSTULATION AND REPLY
"WHY, William, on that old grey stone,
Thus for the length of half a day,
Why, William, sit you thus alone,
And dream your time away?
"Where are your books?--that light bequeathed
To Beings else forlorn and blind!
Up! up! and drink the spirit breathed
From dead men to their kind.
"You look round on your Mother Earth,
As if she for no purpose bore you;
As if you were her first-born birth,
And none had lived before you!"
One morning thus, by Esthwaite lake,
When life was sweet, I knew not why,
To me my good friend Matthew spake,
And thus I made reply:
"The eye--it cannot choose but see;
We cannot bid the ear be still;
Our bodies feel, where'er they be,
Against or with our will.
"Nor less I deem that there are Powers
Which of themselves our minds impress;
That we can feed this mind of ours
In a wise passiveness.
"Think you, 'mid all this mighty sum
Of things for ever speaking,
That nothing of itself will come,
But we must still be seeking?
"--Then ask not wherefore, here, alone,
Conversing as I may,
I sit upon this old grey stone,
And dream my time away."
1798
»You are old, Father William,« the young man said,
»And your hair has become very white;
And yet you incessantly stand on your head -
Do you think, at your age, it is right?«
»In my youth,« Father William replied to his son,
»I feared it might injure the brain;
But, now that I'm perfectly sure I have none,
Why, I do it again and again.«
»You are old,« said the youth, »as I mentioned before,
And have grown most uncommonly fat;
Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door -
Pray, what is the reason of that?«
»In my youth,« said the sage, as he shook his grey locks,
»I kept all my limbs very supple
By the use of this ointment - one shilling the box -
Allow me to sell you a couple?«
»You are old,« said the youth, »and your jaws are too weak
For anything tougher than suet;
Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak -
Pray, how did you manage to do it?«
»In my youth,« said his father, »I took to the law,
And argued each case with my wife;
And the muscular strength, which it gave to my jaw
Has lasted the rest of my life.«
»You are old,« said the youth, »one would hardly suppose
That your eye was as steady as ever;
Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose -
What made you so awfully clever?«
»I have answered three questions, and that is enough,«
Said his father. »Don't give yourself airs!
Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?
Be off, or I'll kick you down-stairs!«
(в "Лит. памятниках" сохранен старый перевод Маршака, в силу его известности, хотя перевод Маршака появился задолго до демуровского перевода "Алисы")
объявлен пародией на стихотворение Роберта Саути
THE OLD MAN'S COMFORTS AND HOW HE GAINED THEM
You are old, Father William, the young man cried,
The few locks which are left you are grey;
You are hale, Father William, a hearty old man,
Now tell me the reason I pray.
In the days of my youth, Father William replied,
I remember'd that youth would fly fast,
And abused not my health and my vigour at first
That I never might need them at last.
You are old, Father William, the young man cried,
And pleasures with youth pass away,
And yet you lament not the days that are gone,
Now tell me the reason I pray.
In the days of my youth, Father William replied,
I remember'd that youth could not last;
I thought of the future whatever I did,
That I never might grieve for the past.
You are old, Father William, the young man cried,
And life must be hastening away;
You are chearful, and love to converse upon death!
Now tell me the reason I pray.
I am chearful, young man, Father William replied,
Let the cause thy attention engage;
In the days of my youth I remember'd my God!
And He hath not forgotten my age.
1816
При этом Демурова в комментарии приводит мнение современного Саути литератора о том, что Саути "бессознательно пародировал философию Уордсворта" и также пишет, что в образе папы Вильяма мог быть выведен сам Уильям Вордсворт. (Вордсворт, кстати, стал Поэтом-Лауреатом после смерти Саути в 1843 г.)
Между тем эти неуверенные догадки гворят о плохой осведомленности Демуровой (да и остальных комментаторов "Алисы"). Ибо какие могут быть сомения в том, что The Old Man's Comforts Саути - пусть не совсем пародия на вот это стихотворение Вордсворта, но явно написано по его мотивам. Вордсворт, конечно, говоря "Уильям", имеет в виду себя:
EXPOSTULATION AND REPLY
"WHY, William, on that old grey stone,
Thus for the length of half a day,
Why, William, sit you thus alone,
And dream your time away?
"Where are your books?--that light bequeathed
To Beings else forlorn and blind!
Up! up! and drink the spirit breathed
From dead men to their kind.
"You look round on your Mother Earth,
As if she for no purpose bore you;
As if you were her first-born birth,
And none had lived before you!"
One morning thus, by Esthwaite lake,
When life was sweet, I knew not why,
To me my good friend Matthew spake,
And thus I made reply:
"The eye--it cannot choose but see;
We cannot bid the ear be still;
Our bodies feel, where'er they be,
Against or with our will.
"Nor less I deem that there are Powers
Which of themselves our minds impress;
That we can feed this mind of ours
In a wise passiveness.
"Think you, 'mid all this mighty sum
Of things for ever speaking,
That nothing of itself will come,
But we must still be seeking?
"--Then ask not wherefore, here, alone,
Conversing as I may,
I sit upon this old grey stone,
And dream my time away."
1798