Âàëåíòèí Ñàâèí
(ìîè ïåðåâîäû)
22 ñîíåò Øåêñïèðà
Íå ëãè ìíå, çåðêàëî, ÷òî ÿ – ñòàðèê,
 îäíîì âåäü âîçðàñòå ñ òîáîé ìû îáà.
Íî, êîëü â ìîðùèíàõ ñâîé óâèæó ëèê,
Ïîéìó, ÷òî ìíå íåäàëåêî äî ãðîáà.
Âñÿ òà êðàñà, ÷òî ïðÿ÷åøü òû, ãëÿäè -
 îäåæäå ñåðäöà ìîåãî òàèòñÿ.
Îíà, êàê è òâîÿ, æèâ¸ò â ãðóäè
È ñòàðîñòè ñîâñåì óæ íå áîèòñÿ.
Ëþáîâü ñàìà äîëæíà áåðå÷ü ñåáÿ.
Êàê ÿ, ñîâñåì íå î ñåáå ïåêóñü.
Òâî¸ ÿ ñåðäöå ñòåðåãó ëþáÿ.
Êàê íÿíÿ, íàä áîëüíûì äèò¸ì òðÿñóñü.
Òâî¸ ìíå ñåðäöå âîâñå íå ïîìîæåò,
Êîëü âäðóã ìî¸ ñëó÷àéíî çàíåìîæåò.
22 ñîíåò Øåêñïèðà
My glass shall not persuade me I am old,
So long as youth and thou are of one date;
But when in thee time's furrows I behold,
Then look I death my days should expiate.
For all that beauty that doth cover thee,
Is but the seemly raiment of my heart,
Which in thy breast doth live, as thine in me:
How can I then be elder than thou art?
O! therefore love, be of thyself so wary
As I, not for myself, but for thee will;
Bearing thy heart, which I will keep so chary
As tender nurse her babe from faring ill.
Presume not on th' heart when mine is slain,
Thou gav'st me thine not to give back again.