ПРОЩАНИЕ, ВОЗБРАНЯЮЩЕЕ ПЕЧАЛЬ

Pre-reading question: Death often seems to be the great leveler. What possible reasons could a Christian have for rejoicing in death?

John Donne Holly Sonnet X Death be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for, thou art not so, For, those, whom thou thinkst, thou dost overthrow, Die not poor death, not yet canst thou kill me; From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be, Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow, And soonest our best men with thee do go, Rest of their bones, and souls delivery. Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings and desperate men, And dost with poison, war and sickness dwell, And poppy, or charms can make us sleep as well, And better than thy stroke; why swell’st thou then? One short sleep past, we wake eternally, And death shall be no more, Death thou shalt die.

Тебя считают страшной, но послушай: Не задыхаются, кого ты душишь, И я смеюсь, бедняжка, над тобой. Мы в снах блаженных чуем образ твой: Ты - тот же сон, лишь сумрачней и глуше; И так же щедро лучшим в мире душам Несешь освобожденье и покой. Живешь слепого случая рабой В чумном бараке. сырости и стуже. А чтоб забыться - мак ничуть не хуже, - Напрасно ты любуешься собой. Ведь сны кончаются. Как ночь. Как ложь. Мы будем вечно, смерть. А ты - умрешь. Перевод А. Спабера

Post-reading questions:

1. Describe, in your own words, Donne’s opening proposition (lines 1-2).

2. How is Death deceived (lines 3-4)?

3. What argument does Donne use to make Death seem pleasant?

4. How do you interpret ‘soonest our best men’?

5. What bad company is Death forced to keep? Why?

6. Which sedatives are better than death?

7. What is Donne’s elegant final paradox, linking the ideas of Death and Eternal Life?

John Milton. On His Blindness

Pre-reading question: This sonnet is Milton’s reaction to his blindness. What kind of things do you think he as an extrenmely pious man might regret in losing his sight?

WHEN I consider how my light is spent E're half my days, in this dark world and wide, And that one Talent which is death to hide, Lodg'd with me useless, though my Soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account, least he returning chide, Doth God exact day-labour, light deny'd? I fondly ask; But patience to prevent That murmur, soon replies, God doth not need Either man's work or his own gifts, who best Bear his milde yoak, they serve him best, his State Is Kingly. Thousands at his bidding speed And post o're Land and Ocean without rest: They also serve who only stand and waite.

О СВОЕЙ СЛЕПОТЕ Когда померк, до половины лет,Свет для меня в житейской тьме кромешной,"К чему мне, - вопросил я безутешно, -Талант, который зарывать не след? Как может человек, коль зренья нет,Предвечному творцу служить успешно?"И в тот же миг я, малодушьем грешный,Услышал от Терпения ответ: "Твой труд и рвенье, смертный, бесполезны.Какая в них нужда царю царей,Коль ангелами он располагает? Лишь тот из вас слуга, ему любезный,Кто, не ропща под ношею своей,Все принимает и превозмогает".Перевод Ю. Корнеева

Post-reading questions:

1. What does ‘how my light is spent’ refer to?

2. How can you guess the age when Milton lost his sight?

3. In what sense does Milton’s situation echo the biblical parable of the talents?

4. What effect has his blindness had on his religious spirit/

5. What is the meaning of the author’s question Doth God exact day-labour, light deny'd?

6. Who answers the question?

7. Explain the concluding line.