The Complete Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Генри Уодсуорт Лонгфелло
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Название: The Complete Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Автор: Генри Уодсуорт Лонгфелло

Издательство: Bookwire

Жанр: Языкознание

Серия:

isbn: 4057664128171

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ of the birch-tree,

      All the toughness of the cedar,

      All the larch's supple sinews;

      And it floated on the river

      Like a yellow leaf in Autumn,

      Like a yellow water-lily.

       Paddles none had Hiawatha,

      Paddles none he had or needed,

      For his thoughts as paddles served him,

      And his wishes served to guide him;

      Swift or slow at will he glided,

      Veered to right or left at pleasure.

       Then he called aloud to Kwasind,

      To his friend, the strong man, Kwasind,

      Saying, "Help me clear this river

      Of its sunken logs and sand-bars."

       Straight into the river Kwasind

      Plunged as if he were an otter,

      Dived as if he were a beaver,

      Stood up to his waist in water,

      To his arm-pits in the river,

      Swam and scouted in the river,

      Tugged at sunken logs and branches,

      With his hands he scooped the sand-bars,

      With his feet the ooze and tangle.

       And thus sailed my Hiawatha

      Down the rushing Taquamenaw,

      Sailed through all its bends and windings,

      Sailed through all its deeps and shallows,

      While his friend, the strong man, Kwasind,

      Swam the deeps, the shallows waded.

       Up and down the river went they,

      In and out among its islands,

      Cleared its bed of root and sand-bar,

      Dragged the dead trees from its channel,

      Made its passage safe and certain,

      Made a pathway for the people,

      From its springs among the mountains,

      To the waters of Pauwating,

      To the bay of Taquamenaw.

       Table of Contents

       Table of Contents

      Forth upon the Gitche Gumee,

      On the shining Big-Sea-Water,

      With his fishing-line of cedar,

      Of the twisted bark of cedar,

      Forth to catch the sturgeon Nahma,

      Mishe-Nahma, King of Fishes,

      In his birch canoe exulting

      All alone went Hiawatha.

       Through the clear, transparent water

      He could see the fishes swimming

      Far down in the depths below him;

      See the yellow perch, the Sahwa,

      Like a sunbeam in the water,

      See the Shawgashee, the craw-fish,

      Like a spider on the bottom,

      On the white and sandy bottom.

       At the stern sat Hiawatha,

      With his fishing-line of cedar;

      In his plumes the breeze of morning

      Played as in the hemlock branches;

      On the bows, with tail erected,

      Sat the squirrel, Adjidaumo;

      In his fur the breeze of morning

      Played as in the prairie grasses.

       On the white sand of the bottom

      Lay the monster Mishe-Nahma,

      Lay the sturgeon, King of Fishes;

      Through his gills he breathed the water,

      With his fins he fanned and winnowed,

      With his tail he swept the sand-floor.

       There he lay in all his armor;

      On each side a shield to guard him,

      Plates of bone upon his forehead,

      Down his sides and back and shoulders

      Plates of bone with spines projecting

      Painted was he with his war-paints,

      Stripes of yellow, red, and azure,

      Spots of brown and spots of sable;

      And he lay there on the bottom,

      Fanning with his fins of purple,

      As above him Hiawatha

      In his birch canoe came sailing,

      With his fishing-line of cedar.

       "Take my bait," cried Hiawatha,

      Down into the depths beneath him,

      "Take my bait, O Sturgeon, Nahma!

      Come up from below the water,

      Let us see which is the stronger!"

      And he dropped his line of cedar

      Through the clear, transparent water,

      Waited vainly for an answer,

      Long sat waiting for an answer,

      And repeating loud and louder,

      "Take my bait, O King of Fishes!"

СКАЧАТЬ