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Файл:Clarel A Poem and Pilgrimage in the Holy Land II
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The Via Crucis – even the way
Tradition claims to be the one
Trod on that Friday far away
By Him our pure exemplar shown.
‘Tis Whitsun-tide. From paths without,
Through Stephen’s gatc by many a vein
Convergent brought within this lane,
Ere sun-down shut the loiterer out –
As ‘twere a frieze, behold the train!
Bowed water-carriers; Jews with staves;
Infi rm gray monks; over-loaded slaves;
Turk soldiers – young, with home-sick eyes;
A Bey, bereaved through luxuries;
Strangers and exiles; Moslem dames
Long-veiled in monumental white,
Dumb from the mounds which memory claims;
A half-starved vagrant Edomite;
Sore-footed Arab girls, which toil
Depressed under heap of garden-spoil;
The patient ass with panniered urn;
Sour camels humped by heaven and man,
Whose languid necks through habit turn
For easc for ease they hardly gain.
In varied forms of fate they wend –
CLAREL
Or man or animal, ‘tis one:
Cross-bearers all, alike they tend
And follow, slowly follow on.
331
HERMAN MELVILLE
But, lagging after, who is he
Called early every hope to test,
And now, at close of rarer quest,
Finds so much more the heavier tree?
From slopes whence even Echo’s gone,
Wending, he murmurs in low tone:
“They wire the world – far under sea
They talk; but never comes to me
A message from beneath the stone.”
Dusked Olivet he leaves behind,
And, taking now a slender wynd,
Vanishes in the obscurer town.
35. EPILOGUE
If Luther’s day expand to Darwin’s year,
Shall that exclude the hope foreclose the fear?
Unmoved by all the claims our times avow,
The ancient Sphinx still keeps the porch of shade;
And comes Despair, whom not her calm may cow,
And coldly on that adamantine brow
Scrawls undeterred his bitter pasquinade.
But Faith (who from the scrawl indignant turns)
With blood warm oozing from her wounded trust,
Inseribes even on her shards of broken urns
The sign o’ the cross – the spirit above the dvst!
332
CLAREL
Yea, ape and angel, strife and old debate –
The harps of heaven and dreary gongs of hell;
Science the feud can only aggravate –
No umpire she betwixt the chimes and knell:
The running battle of the star and clod
Shall run forever – if there be no God.
Degrees we know, unknown in days before;
The light is greater, hence the shadow more;
And tantalized and apprehensive Man
Appealing – Wherefore ripen us to pain?
Seems there the spokesman of dumb Nature’s train.
But through such strange illusions have they passed
Who in life’s pilgrimage have baffl ed striven –
Even death may prove unreal at the last,
And stoics be astounded into heaven.
Then keep thy heart, though yet but ill-resigned –
Clarel, thy heart, the issues there but mind;
That like the crocus budding through the snow –
That like a swimmer rising from the deep –
That like a burning secret which doth go
Even from the bosom that would hoard and keep;
Emerge thou mayst from the last whelming sea,
And prove that death but routs life into victory.
Литературно-художественное издание
Herman Melville
Clarel: A Poem and Pilgrimage
in the Holy Land II
Выпускающий редактор: И. Краснова
Редактор: П. Воронин
Корректор: И. Иванова
Компьютерная верстка: Т. Серёгина
Художественное оформление: М. Кылосова
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Проект осуществлён с помощью технологий
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Подписано в печать 10.01.2018
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