Муниципальное бюджетное
общеобразовательное учреждение средняя общеобразовательная школа № 65 с
углублённым изучением английского языка Ворошиловского района города
Ростова-на-Дону
Сценарий
школьного вечера поэзии
«ROBERT BURNS»
Автор
– Прилипкина Александра Сергеевна
2014
г.
Burns’s night
That I for poor auld
Scotland’s sake
Some useful plan or book could make,
Or sing a song at least.
R. Burns
Amazing Grace
(Национальная песня Шотландии)
Amazing grace, oh how sweet the sound
That saved a wreck like me
I once was lost, though now I'm found
I was blind, but now I see
When we've been there ten thousand years
Bright shining as the sun
We've no less days to sing God's praise
Then when, when we first begun
Too many ages false and spent
I have already hung
This face and flock He saved us by
His endless grace will leave me whole
Amazing grace, oh how sweet the sound
To save a wreck like me
I once was lost, but now I'm found
I was blind, but now I see
That saved a wreck like me
I once was lost, though now I'm found
I was blind, but now I see
When we've been there ten thousand years
Bright shining as the sun
We've no less days to sing God's praise
Then when, when we first begun
Too many ages false and spent
I have already hung
This face and flock He saved us by
His endless grace will leave me whole
Amazing grace, oh how sweet the sound
To save a wreck like me
I once was lost, but now I'm found
I was blind, but now I see
Robert Burns is the national poet of Scotland. He was born
on January 25, 1759 in a small cottage at Alloway in Scotland.
There was a lad was
born in Kyle,
But what’n a day
o’what’n a style
I doudt it’s hardly
worth the while
To be sae nice wi’
Robin.
В деревне парень был рожден,
Но год, когда родился он,
В календари не занесен.
Кому был нужен Робин?
Зато отметил календарь,
Что был такой-то государь,
И в щели дома дул январь,
Когда родился Робин.
Немало ждет его обид,
Но сердцем все он победит.
Парниншка будет знаменит,
Семью прославит Робин.
(С. Маршак)
He’ll hea
misfortunes great and smal’,
But aye a heart
aboot them a’,
Yt’ll be a credit
till us a’,
We’ll be proud
o’Robin.
Robert was born in a miserable poverty. His father, a
farmer, was a very honest man. Robert was the oldest of seven children.
Although he was a very poor man, William Burns’ greatest wish was to give his
children the best education he could, and while they were still young he began
to teach them to read and write.
Despite the hardship of the far – where by the age of
thirteen Burns threshed the corn with his own hands – he would always have a
small volume in his pocket, usually a collection of the Scottish ballads ready
to read in any spare moment. At that time he started writing his first poems.
My father was a
Farmer upon the Carrick border O,
And carefully he
bred in decency and order O,
He bade me act a
manly part, through I had ne’er a farting O,
For without an
honest manly heart, no man was worth regarding O.
Был честный фермер мой отец.
Он не имел достатка,
Но от наследников своих
Он требовал порядка.
Учил достоинство хранить,
Хоть нет гроша в карманах.
Страшнее чести изменить,
Чем быть в отрепьях рваных!
Я в свет пустился без гроша,
Но был беспечный малый.
Богатым быть я не желал,
Великим выть – пожалуй!
Таланта не был я лишен.
Был грамотен немножко
И вот решил по мере сил
Пробить себе дорожку.
Надежды нет, просвета нет,
А есть нужда, забота.
Ну что ж,
Вовеки не позволю я
Впадать от временных невзгод
В тоску и меланхолию.
All you who follow
wealth and power, with unremitting ardour O,
The more in this
you look for bliss, you leave your view
the father O,
Had you the wealth
Potosi boasts, or nations to adore you O,
A cheerful
honest-hearted clown I will prefer before you O.
In 1784 Robert Burns moved to Mossgie (a place in Scotland)
where he met his future wife Jean Armour. Because of the objections of his
father, Robert could not marry Jean. And he made up his mind to emigrate to
West Indies.
Ae
Fond Kiss
Ae fond kiss, and then we sever!Ae fareweel, alas, for ever!
Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.
Had we never lov'd sae kindly,
Had we never lov'd sae blindly,
Never met-or never parted,
We had ne'er been broken-hearted.
Fare-thee-weel, thou first and fairest!
Fare-thee-weel, thou best and dearest!
Thine be ilka joy and treasure,
Peace, Enjoyment, Love and Pleasure!
Ae fond kiss, and then we sever!
Ae fareweeli alas, for ever!
Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.
Расставание
Поцелуй - и до могилы
Мы простимся, друг мой милый.
Ропот сердца отовсюду
Посылать к тебе я буду.
Не любить бы нам так нежно,
Безрассудно, безнадежно,
Не сходиться, не прощаться,
Нам бы с горем не встречаться!
Будь же ты благословенна,
Друг мой первый, друг бесценный.
Да сияет над тобою
Солнце счастья и покоя.
Поцелуй - и до могилы
Мы простимся, друг мой милый.
Ропот сердца отовсюду
Посылать к тебе я буду.
Перевод С.Я.Маршака
Luckily for literature his fortunes changed with his first
collection “Poems Chiefly in the Scottish Dialect”, which was published in
Kilmarnock in June 1786. This book contains some of his most popular songs.
1787 brought Burns sufficient financial security to allow
him to return to Ayrshire. There he wrote two of his best-loved works “Auld
Lang Syne” and “Tam O’Shanter”.
“Auld Lang Syne” is a beautiful song of brotherhood and
friendship. The name is dear to all English-speaking nations because the source
of his poetry was the folklore and the sons of his people whose true son he
was.
Auld
Lang Syne
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And days of auld lang syne?
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We'll take a cup o' kindness yet
For auld lang syne.
We twa hae run aboot the braes
And pou'd the gowans fine;
We've wander'd mony a weary foot
Sin' auld lang syne.
We two hae paidled i' the burn,
Frae mornin' sun till dine;
But seas between us braid hae roar'd
Sin' auld lang syne.
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And days of auld lang syne?
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We'll take a cup o' kindness yet
For auld lang syne.
We twa hae run aboot the braes
And pou'd the gowans fine;
We've wander'd mony a weary foot
Sin' auld lang syne.
We two hae paidled i' the burn,
Frae mornin' sun till dine;
But seas between us braid hae roar'd
Sin' auld lang syne.
And here's a hand, my trusty friend,
And gie's a hand o' thine;
We'll take a cup o' kindness yet
For auld lang syne.
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And days of auld lang syne?
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We'll take a cup o' kindness yet
For auld lang syne.
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We'll take a cup o' kindness yet
For auld lang syne.
The second edition of his poems brought him a large sum of
money. Burns was able to buy a small farm to settle with Jean. At that time his
dream came true. He made a trip around Scotland where he studied the history
and folk songs of the country. There in the mountains he wrote one of his most
famous poems “My Heart’s in the Highlands”.
Robert Burns’s poetry was inspired by his deep love for his
motherland, for its history and folklore. His beautiful poem “My Heart’s in the
Highlands”, full of vivid colourful descriptions, is a hymn to the beauty of
Scotland’s nature and to its glorious past. He admires the green valleys,
“mountains high cover’d with snow and wild hanging woods”. He calls his
country: “The birthplace of valour, the country of worth”.
My Heart’s in the Highlands
My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here,
My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer —
A-chasing the wild deer, and following the roe;
My heart's in the Highlands, wherever I go.
Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North —
The birth-place of Valour, the country of Worth;
Wherever I wander, wherever I rove,
The hills of the Highlands for ever I love.
My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer —
A-chasing the wild deer, and following the roe;
My heart's in the Highlands, wherever I go.
Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North —
The birth-place of Valour, the country of Worth;
Wherever I wander, wherever I rove,
The hills of the Highlands for ever I love.
Farewell to the mountains high cover'd with snow;
Farewell to the straths and green valleys below;
Farewell to the forests and wild-hanging woods;
Farewell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods.
My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here,
My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer —
Chasing the wild deer, and following the roe;
My heart's in the Highlands, wherever I go.
В ГОРАХ МОЕ СЕРДЦЕ
В горах мое сердце... Доныне я там.
По следу оленя лечу по скалам.
Гоню я оленя, пугаю козу.
В горах мое сердце, а сам я внизу.
Прощай, моя родина! Север, прощай, -
Отечество славы и доблести край.
По белому свету судьбою гоним,
Навеки останусь я сыном твоим!
Прощайте, вершины под кровом снегов,
Прощайте, долины и скаты лугов,
Прощайте, поникшие в бездну леса,
Прощайте, потоков лесных голоса.
В горах мое сердце... Доныне я там.
По следу оленя лечу по скалам.
Гоню я оленя, пугаю козу.
В горах мое сердце, а сам я внизу.
C.Маршак
Burns was a remarkable lyric poet. His lyrical poems are
known for their beauty, truthfulness, depth of feelings and their lovely
melody. Many of Burns’s lyrical poems have been put to music and are sung by
all English-speaking people. One of them is “Oh My Love is Like a Red Rose”.
The poet’s song is devoted to his wife.
Oh My
Love is Like a Red Rose
My love's like a red, red rose
That's newly sprung in June;
My love is like a melody
So sweetly play'd in tune
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in love am I;
And I will love thee still, my dear,
Though all the seas gone dry.
Though all the seas gone dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt with the sun;
I will love thee still my dear,
Though the sands o' life shall run.
So fare-thee-weel, my only love!
And fare-thee-weel awhile!
And I will come to you again,
Though it were ten thousand miles!
Though it were ten thousand miles, my dear
Though it twere ten thousand miles.
I will come to you again.
Though it twere ten thousand miles
That's newly sprung in June;
My love is like a melody
So sweetly play'd in tune
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in love am I;
And I will love thee still, my dear,
Though all the seas gone dry.
Though all the seas gone dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt with the sun;
I will love thee still my dear,
Though the sands o' life shall run.
So fare-thee-weel, my only love!
And fare-thee-weel awhile!
And I will come to you again,
Though it were ten thousand miles!
Though it were ten thousand miles, my dear
Though it twere ten thousand miles.
I will come to you again.
Though it twere ten thousand miles
Любовь, как роза, роза
красная
Любовь, как роза, роза
красная,
Цветет в моем саду.
Любовь моя - как песенка,
С которой в путь иду.
Сильнее красоты твоей
Моя любовь одна.
Она с тобой, пока моря
Не высохнут до дна.
Не высохнут моря, мой друг,
Не рушится гранит,
Не остановится песок,
А он, как жизнь, бежит...
Будь счастлива, моя любовь,
Прощай и не грусти.
Вернусь к тебе, хоть целый свет
Пришлось бы мне пройти!
Цветет в моем саду.
Любовь моя - как песенка,
С которой в путь иду.
Сильнее красоты твоей
Моя любовь одна.
Она с тобой, пока моря
Не высохнут до дна.
Не высохнут моря, мой друг,
Не рушится гранит,
Не остановится песок,
А он, как жизнь, бежит...
Будь счастлива, моя любовь,
Прощай и не грусти.
Вернусь к тебе, хоть целый свет
Пришлось бы мне пройти!
The famous song from the film «Служебный роман» «В моей душе покоя нет» is written on Burns’s poems.
My heart is sair, I dare na tell,
My heart is sair for somebody;
O could wake a winter night
For the sake of somebody!
Oh-hon for somebody!
Oh-hey! For somebody!
I could range the world around ,
For the sake of somebody.
Ye powers that smile on virtuous love,
O, sweetly smile on somebody!
Frae ikka danger keep him free,
And send me safe my somebody,
Oh-hon for somebody!
Oh-hey! For somebody!
I wad do – what wad I not?
For the sake of somebody.
«В Моей Душе Покоя нет»
В моей душе покоя нет -
Весь день я жду кого-то.
Без сна встречаю я рассвет,
И все из-за кого-то.
Со мною нет кого-то,
Ах, где найти кого-то?
Могу весь мир я обойти,
Чтобы найти кого-то,
Чтобы найти кого-то,
Могу весь мир я обойти!
О, вы, хранящие любовь,
Неведомые силы!
Пусть невредим вернется вновь
Ко мне мой кто-то милый!
Но нет со мной кого-то.
Мне грустно отчего-то.
Клянусь, что всё бы я отдал
Весь день я жду кого-то.
Без сна встречаю я рассвет,
И все из-за кого-то.
Со мною нет кого-то,
Ах, где найти кого-то?
Могу весь мир я обойти,
Чтобы найти кого-то,
Чтобы найти кого-то,
Могу весь мир я обойти!
О, вы, хранящие любовь,
Неведомые силы!
Пусть невредим вернется вновь
Ко мне мой кто-то милый!
Но нет со мной кого-то.
Мне грустно отчего-то.
Клянусь, что всё бы я отдал
Robert Burns’s popularity as Scotland’s national bard remains
undiminished. Every year on the 25th of January Scottish people all
over the world celebrate Burns’s Night. They have special meal that day: traditional
Scottish Haggis and Cock-a-Leekie (Scottish Chicken soup with leek). They
start their meal with famous Burns’s
poem “The Selkirk Grace”.
Some hae meat, and
canna eat,
And some wad eat
that want to eat.
But we hae meat and
we can eat.
And sae the Lord be
thankit.
У которых есть, что есть,- те подчас не могут есть,
А другие могут есть, да сидят без хлеба.
А у нас тут есть, что есть, да при этом есть, чем
есть.
Значит, нам благодарить остается небо.
They read Burns’s poems and
sing his songs.
Address to a Haggis
Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,
Great chieftain o the puddin'-race!
Aboon them a' ye tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye worthy o' a grace
As lang's my arm.
Great chieftain o the puddin'-race!
Aboon them a' ye tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye worthy o' a grace
As lang's my arm.
«Ода шотландскому пудингу
"Хаггис"»
|
В тебе я славлю командира Всех пудингов горячих мира, - Могучий Хаггис, полный жира И требухи. Строчу, пока мне служит лира, Тебе стихи. Дородный, плотный, крутобокий, Ты высишься, как холм далекий, А под тобой поднос широкий Чуть не трещит. Но как твои ласкают соки Наш аппетит! |
