Two swimmers wrestled on the spar by Emily Dickins
Плывя, вцеплялись двое в рей
всю ночь... Один с зарёй
с улыбкой берег рассмотрел -
о, Господи! чужой!
Плыл мёртвый лик, несом водой,
с захожих - зрим - судов,
плыл мёртвый взор - с живой мольбой,
плыл рук - поникших - зов!
(Эмили - к женатому Боулзу.
Я разъясню за неё: один пловец на обломке - Боулз,
второй - разглядевший, что берег чужой - сама Эмили.
Именно, со сползающей с лица улыбкой разглядев берег,
она и утонула, потому что спасения для неё теперь нет -
ни в воде, ни на чужом берегу. А Боулзу с чего было
тонуть,- он мужик, в своей стихии, и берег ждёт родной...
ну, поматросил, бывает...)
[David Preest:
This poem constituted the whole of a letter (L219) to Samuel Bowles
apart from the introductory sentence ‘I cant explain it, Mr Bowles.’
What she couldn’t explain was presumably why, when two swimmers after
a shipwreck were hanging on to the same spar and wrestling with the
seas to stay alive, one swimmer reached land, while the other was
drowned. It is tempting to guess that Samuel Bowles was the swimmer
who reached land, while it was Emily herself who lost her life in
the struggle. This guess would make the poem a desperate appeal to
Samuel Bowles, but whether the appeal was for love or acceptance of
her poems or help in some other tight place involves the reader in
further guesses. Such is the despair and agony of the last stanza
that the poem being an anguished cry for a return of love from him
seems the likeliest guess.]
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Two swimmers wrestled on the spar by Emily Dickinson
[I cant explain it, Mr Bowles.]
Two swimmers wrestled on the spar --
Until the morning sun --
When One -- turned smiling to the land --
Oh God! the Other One!
The stray ships -- passing -- Spied a face --
Upon the waters borne --
With eyes in death -- still begging raised --
And hands -- beseeching -- thrown!
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