Вітер у вербах
The Piper at the Gates of Dawn
Abirdpipedsuddenly,andwasstill;andalightbreezesprangupandsetthereedsandbulrushesrustling.Rat,whowasinthesternoftheboat,whileMolesculled,satupsuddenlyandlistenedwithapassionateintentness.Mole,whowithgentlestrokeswasjustkeepingtheboatmovingwhilehescannedthebankswithcare,lookedathimwithcuriosity.
"It’sgone!"sighedtheRat,sinkingbackinhisseatagain."Sobeautifulandstrangeandnew!Sinceitwastoendsosoon,IalmostwishIhadneverheardit.Forithasrousedalonginginmethatispain,andnothingseemsworthwhilebutjusttohearthatsoundoncemoreandgoonlisteningtoitforever.No!Thereitisagain!"hecried,alertoncemore.Entranced,hewassilentforalongspace,spellbound.
"NowitpassesonandIbegintoloseit,"hesaidpresently."OMole!thebeautyofit!Themerrybubbleandjoy,thethin,clear,happycallofthedistantpiping!SuchmusicIneverdreamedof,andthecallinitisstrongereventhanthemusicissweet!Rowon,Mole,row!Forthemusicandthecallmustbeforus."
TheMole,greatlywondering,obeyed."Ihearnothingmyself,"hesaid,"butthewindplayinginthereedsandrushesandosiers."
TheRatneveranswered,ifindeedheheard.Rapt,transported,trembling,hewaspossessedinallhissensesbythisnewdivinethingthatcaughtuphishelplesssoulandswunganddandledit,apowerlessbuthappyinfantinastrongsustaininggrasp.
