http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GYKJuDxYr3I

When you're weary, feeling small
When tears are in your eyes, I will dry them all;
I'm on your side. When times get rough
And friends just can't be found,
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down

When you're down and out,
When you're on the street,
When evening falls so hard
I will comfort you.
I'll take your part.
When darkness comes
And pain is all around,
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down.
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down

Sail on silvergirl
Sail on by.
Your time has come to shine.
All your dreams are on their way.
See how they shine.
If you need a friend
I'm sailing right behind.
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will ease your mind.
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will ease your mind.

Жираф (1908)

Сегодня, я вижу, особенно грустен твой взгляд,
И руки особенно тонки, колени обняв.
Послушай: далеко, далеко, на озере Чад
Изысканный бродит жираф.

Ему грациозная стройность и нега дана,
И шкуру его украшает волшебный узор,
С которым равняться осмелится только луна,
Дробясь и качаясь на влаге широких озер.

Вдали он подобен цветным парусам корабля,
И бег его плавен, как радостный птичий полет.
Я знаю, что много чудесного видит земля,
Когда на закате он прячется в мраморный грот.

Я знаю веселые сказки таинственных стран
Про черную деву, про страсть молодого вождя,
Но ты слишком долго вдыхала тяжелый туман,
Ты верить не хочешь во что-нибудь, кроме дождя.

И как я тебе расскажу про тропический сад,
Про стройные пальмы, про запах немыслимых трав...
- Ты плачешь? Послушай... далеко, на озере Чад
Изысканный бродит жираф.

Николай Гумилев
-----------------------------

The Giraffe

Today I can see that your features are strikingly sad,
Your arms on your knees are as thin as dandelion stalks.
But listen, in far-away lands that surround lake Chad
A graceful giraffe softly walks.

A slender and delicate beauty he rightfully owns,
And magical ornaments run through the flanks of his hide,
That only the moon can compare to, when coolly it dawns
And bounces and swings on the surface of lakes open wide.

His colors resemble the sails of a distant frigate,
And smoothly he runs, like a cheerful bird in its flight.
At sunset he stands by a grotto’s marmoreal gate
And marvelous visions replenish the world in his sight.

Mysterious lands have possessed me in legend and song:
There was a black maiden that ravished the heart of a king.
But you have been breathing this nebulous air for too long,
Apart from its moisture you dare not believe in a thing.

And how will I tell you of gardens in emeralds clad,
Of towering palm-tress and smells of unthinkable weeds?
You’ve started to cry now. But listen, in far-away Chad
An exquisite-looking giraffe to his grotto proceeds.

Nikolay Gumilev

IF

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!


--Rudyard Kipling