Elizabeth and Essex для англоязычных

(На русском языке опубликовано ранее, на моей стр.)Перевод Леонида Чернухина)

In royal chambers silence reigns
And pillows are strewn to and fro.
Red memories of erstwhile pains,
Rend mind and let a horror grow.

Like an unburied wayward wraith
Its clothing turned to tatters vast,
Her flesh lies lost, bereft of faith,
Yet she still loves a shattered past.

A pinioned gaze by woe held rapt
Now occupies this barren nook.
With lips in fantasies enwrapped
Eyes once again recall his look.   

In youth he worshipped was by all
Grand ladies of that storied court.
Yet his rich cloak to her must fall,
As lips suppress their sharp retort.

By Venus was her heart held fast
And yearning brought the lioness
Back to a youth that makes repast
From passion’s impudent excess.

His form adored beyond all else
Despite the gap in mien and age.
Rank jealousy doth toll the bells
That held a pawn within its cage.

Sans qualm did he requite her love,
That crown and august radiance.
He cherished her as heaven’s dove
And God Almighty’s eminence.

Stern sword imbued by holy light
Bears triumphs fit for the stories.
To earn her favour he would fight,
For motherland’s martial glories.

The envious ones sleep no more
While crafting another new charge.
They claim he foments civil war
And stands a vile traitor writ large.

A slander may have found its mark,
It seemed that Essex craved power.
She lay enthralled by passions dark
So mind could but weep and cower.

Love’s all-consuming eldritch flame
Fought to reverse much colder sense
Which urged to not revere this name
And plan the nation’s grand defence.

To send him far from English lands
With landing party to Spain’s shore,
So that quick wits and sturdy hands
May give new blood to union’s lore.

Foul enemies laid down their arms
At his keen terms and robust force,
Thus Essex did requite her charms
And for brief bliss impart recourse.

A triumph was called as he returned
From martial charge to motherland.
All of the kingdom work adjourned,
Fair summer kissed his trusty hand.

Earl Essex entered palace grounds,
The Queen again displayed her heart.
She granted ring that still redounds
So royal boon might play prime part

In shielding him from fiercest wroth,
If slander should occlude her mind
And his young flesh to death betroth
As baleful plots leave reason blind.

For even if he should weave scheme
To strip her bright and noble place.
This magic ring shall bear the dream,
With glowing eye all wrongs erase.

Remind of love in throes of spring
As youth sublime of perfect form
Fair heart and soul to her did bring
When he dispelled a prideful storm.

Faith, she will suffer crime or slight
Despite the torment such acts spawn,
If he with ring commands the might
To which her breast is always drawn.

There were no chasms in her regard,
Yet she was swayed by rumours vile
And made attempt to stay on guard
By meting out new ranks with smile.

Still, when he friends tried to uplift
By sending them to serve her court,
She moved to not one moment gift 
Prior to discharging them for sport.

The Irish turmoil grasped her gaze
When Essex called her man a fraud.
In council rooms he spoke unfazed,
With brazen will her pride did prod.

By raising voice to flagrant heights
In congress on those restless lands.
A firm retort his cheek soon smites
As queen responds by laying hands.

At this, the Earl let warm mask slip
While clutching trusty rapier’s hilt.
Strong words sailed past a livid lip
And forthright ire the scales did tilt.

“You think me fool to cuff on stage,
Should any monarch be thus bold?”
“Oh woman!” he declaimed in rage
As manful gaze of vengeance told.

“No soul should damage me and live
For this sharp blade will soon erase.
Such heinous harm I won’t forgive
If God himself stands in your place.”

At that he slammed the door and left
“Return!” exclaimed the queen of all
“How dare the rogue leave me bereft!
Foul pride will herald swift downfall.”

Though he endured with gallant grace
The charms of that most jealous queen,
This latest blow brought such disgrace
That sound forbearance quit the scene.

Lord Chancellor called for good sense
When he spoke on the prudent course,
Pressed for bent knees as recompense
Then was by Essex spurned of course.

Instead, the rake long missive penned
That teemed with a great many slights.
Yet this did not bring forth fierce end,
For her soul still craved fresh delights.

Queen dubbed him Ireland’s viceroy
Though he knew not how to proceed.
Green Essex groped like callow boy
And failed to smash rebellion’s seed.

This quest did not uphold the peace
Became a waste of wealth and arms,
Fueled hearsay that refused to cease
Besmirched her fealty to his charms.

Court banishment came on the heels
Of that quite flagrant fall from grace.
The Earl’s detractors whetted steels,
Lord Nottingham assumed his place.

From pet to one that serves no more
A forlorn plunge from fortune’s eye,
Wan Essex was struck ill and swore
At jaundiced fates and weighted die. 

Compassion moved her to new tryst,
She made the time to see his manse
And even brought a drug he missed
To summon wisp of second chance.

He stood from bed at that good turn
Enwrapped within the arms of hope.
Cast off the ire that made soul burn,
Used faith to help with sorrow cope.


“A sham this was,” his foes did hiss,
Diverting grace from righteous path.
With that, her courage fled like mist
As fear abjured past boons for wrath

Thus stripped he was of social rank,
From higher spheres retired like cur.
Low musings split like rotting plank
When Essex stepped on devil’s burr.

With friends the greatest solace lay
A group of thinkers, fops and bards.
He sought the gracious role to play
By risking gold to boost their cards.

Lord Francis was close confidante
Whose fortunes Essex strove to lift.
The Earl failed patrons to enchant
And sowed the spores of future rift.

Forgiveness pierced the torrid veil,
Smile cast its gleam upon his fort.
Yet hope once more did not set sail
As no one bade him back to court.

“Request a meeting my dear friend,”
Advised a wise and steadfast aide.
“Convince the Queen to apprehend
A foetid crop for headsman’s blade.”

To this the Earl exclaimed in rage
“I cannot trust that wizened crone!”
His reckless outburst set the stage
For spies in service to the throne,

Who hastened to inform Her grace
Of these unseemly words and acts.
Aghast, he made to clinch the race
And dam the flow of wanton facts.

Unseat the Queen for noble James
As sovereign of vast new domain,
Rely on friends to fuel the flames
That fame and fortune help attain.

The wayward Essex chose to pen
Dark missive to the Scottish king
With promises to pledge his men
If James a claim to rule did bring.

He then proposed a march robust
To peers that came to lend an ear,
So full and stalwart was this trust
That Essex forged on absent fear.

Lord Keeper Egerton showed up,
Announced intent to make arrest.
The seething Earl refused to stop
And urged his cohort to face test.

He led the way with thirsty sword,
All allies followed without doubt.
“Defend the Queen for just reward.
Our charge will all deceivers rout!”

Onlookers gaped at rowdy crowd,
The Earl’s most garish entourage.
Tall ranks bled disposition proud
And fell apart like babe’s collage.

The palace lay secured by chains
To slow down impudent trespass,
Brave people of her vast domains
Refused to let those upstarts pass.

“Drive off the rebels!” came a cry,
As clubs and bardiches appeared.
At that point none had time to fly,
For danger at each egress reared.

A regal gaze the skirmish swept
In concord with her subtle smile
Whilst loyalty this conflict kept
From cutting off divine lifestyle.

Her subjects’ love was gratitude
For many years of selfless work,
They put an end to furore crude
By breaking traitors’ handiwork.

Young Essex fell and faced arrest,
Was hauled before a partial court
Where vicious enemies wove nest
And moved his treason to purport.

The Earl abjured all slanders rank
Forcing the state to make the case
That he conspired a crown to yank
Whilst fearing imminent disgrace.

Lord Francis Bacon took the stand,
Spun black betrayal of strong bond.
His baleful speech augured the end,
Let ruthless foes with life abscond.

Thus he did further boons acquire
For sordid efforts shrewdly spent
While Essex writhed upon a pyre
Invoked by broken heart’s lament.

Queen met with Lady Nottingham
In tower filled with portents grim
As rumours roiled like rancid ham
And she gave vent to regal whim.

Spewed outrage at his stoic mien,
Refusal to bend knees and plead
Then signed off on his final scene,
Gave headsman signal to proceed.

Soon after, grief took centre stage.
Tormented was she by thin shade,
Rapidly waned from fits and age,
Pined madly for a flame unmade.

Now, ailing Countess Nottingham
Implores her for impromptu tryst.
Confesses act that soul may damn
If left to languish neath grey mist.

Queen hears the rattle of a friend
“Have I abandoned you and God?”
“Allay all fears and let Him tend,
Divest of pride to stem new flood.”

“Don’t be afraid this sin to share
For you can count on my support.”
“He placed this ring into my care,
Bade it returned be to your court.”

Her face contorted in great pain
As tears began to strangle voice,
“Thy craven act cut life in twain
By snuffing out his final choice.”

 “You turned a promise into jest,”
The Queen continued as ire grew.
“Aware twas an attempt to wrest
Relief from fate that closer drew.”

“God absolution might bequeath,
But I have none to spare for thee.
Keen dirk shall bury you beneath
As Essex’s wraith repeats its plea.”

“Thou art a dog that master bites,”
The queen continued to proclaim.
“Prepare to pass without last rites
And turn to dust as cynics claim.”

“Such perfidy sends soul to hell
Since murder is most deadly sin.
Forsooth, I was too blind to tell
That bitter lie my route did thin.”

Soon after, Nottingham succumbs
Having obeyed husband’s decree,
Secreted ring despite what comes,
Ensured that Essex was not freed.

The Queen in turn returned to bed
With ring ensconced in aged hand.
All health and happiness soon fled
Deposed by red and wicked brand.

Nine days she stays in vacant state
Immersed within a world of forms,
Where spirits halt the great debate
As reaper’s scythe devours storms.

In royal chambers silence reigns...

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Author: Nadezhda Demidova
Translator: Leonid Chernukhin
Degree: Bachelor of Arts in Creative Writing
Institution: Hunter College
Address: 695 Park Avenue
               New York, NY 10065