Recessional (A Victorian Ode) — Rudyard Kipling
Written in 1897 during Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee, ‘Recessional’ is a poignant reminder of the fleeting nature of imperial power, reflecting on Britain’s empire.
From my viewpoint, ‘Recessional’ holds its audience with its sobering examination of hubris and the transience of power. Its thoughtful critique of imperialism, wrapped in resonant religious imagery, offers a compelling perspective that continues to resonate today.
God of our fathers, known of old,Lord of our far-flung battle-line,Beneath whose awful Hand we holdDominion over palm and pine—Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,Lest we forget—lest we forget!
The tumult and the shouting dies;The Captains and the Kings depart:Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice,An humble and a contrite heart.Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,Lest we forget—lest we forget!
Far-called, our navies melt away;On dune and headland sinks the fire:Lo, all our pomp of yesterdayIs one with Nineveh and Tyre!Judge of the Nations, spare us yet,Lest we forget—lest we forget!
If, drunk with sight of power, we looseWild tongues that have not Thee in awe,Such boastings as the Gentiles use,Or lesser breeds without the Law—Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,Lest we forget—lest we forget!
For heathen heart that puts her trustIn reeking tube and iron shard,All valiant dust that builds on dust,And guarding, calls not Thee to guard,For frantic boast and foolish word—Thy mercy on Thy People, Lord!
Оригинальное стихотворение
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;
If you can dream – and not make dreams your master;
If you can think – and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ‘em up with worn-out tools;
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings – nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And – which is more – you’ll be a Man, my son!
(Joseph Rudyard Kipling, 1895)
If — Rudyard Kipling
‘If’ is a didactic poem by Rudyard Kipling, first published in 1910. It provides life lessons on maturity and morality, capturing the essence of personal growth and integrity.
‘If’ resonates profoundly with readers due to its timeless wisdom and universal appeal. The poem’s balanced structure and impactful message make it a guidepost for character development and encourage a stoic, resilient attitude toward life.
If you can keep your head when all about youAre losing theirs and blaming it on you,If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,But make allowance for their doubting too;If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;If you can meet with Triumph and DisasterAnd treat those two impostors just the same;If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spokenTwisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winningsAnd risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,And lose, and start again at your beginningsAnd never breathe a word about your loss;If you can force your heart and nerve and sinewTo serve your turn long after they are gone,And so hold on when there is nothing in youExcept the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,If all men count with you, but none too much;If you can fill the unforgiving minuteWith sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!
«If» holds a spot on our Top 10 Poems of All Time list — you can explore the other 9 remarkable pieces via the link.
Gunga Din — Rudyard Kipling
Published in 1892, ‘Gunga Din’ is a narrative poem that pays tribute to a heroic Indian water carrier in the British Indian Army, offering a critique of British imperialism.
‘Gunga Din’ captivates readers with its dynamic storytelling and examination of the human spirit. It challenges the stereotypes of its time, portraying Gunga Din, an Indian native, as the true hero, which provides a unique and thought-provoking perspective.
You may talk o’ gin and beerWhen you’re quartered safe out’ ere,An’ you’re sent to penny-fights an’ Aldershot it;But when it comes to slaughterYou will do your work on water,An’ you’ll lick the bloomin’ boots of ‘im that’s got it.Now in Injia’s sunny clime,Where I used to spend my timeA-servin’ of’ Er Majesty the Queen,Of all them blackfaced crewThe finest man I knewWas our regimental bhisti, Gunga Din,He was ‘Din! Din! Din!’You limpin’ lump o’ brick-dust, Gunga Din!’Hi! Slippy hitherao’Water, get it! Panee lao,’You squidgy-nosed old idol, Gunga Din.’
The uniform’ e woreWas nothin’ much before,An’ rather less than’ arf o’ that be’ind,For a piece o’ twisty ragAn’ a goatskin water-bagWas all the field-equipment’ e could find.When the sweatin’ troop-train layIn a sidin’ through the day,Where the’ eat would make your bloomin’ eyebrows crawl,We shouted ‘Harry By!’Till our throats were bricky-dry,Then we wopped ‘im ’cause’e couldn’t serve us all.It was ‘Din! Din! Din!’You’ eathen, where the mischief’ ave you been?’You put some juldee in it’Or I’ll marrow you this minute’If you don’t fill up my helmet, Gunga Din!’
‘ E would dot an’ carry oneTill the longest day was done;An’’e didn’t seem to know the use o’ fear.If we charged or broke or cut,You could bet your bloomin’ nut,’E’d be waitin’ fifty paces right flank rear.With’ is mussick on’ is back,’ E would skip with our attack,An’ watch us till the bugles made ‘Retire,’An’ for all’ is dirty’ ide’ E was white, clear white, insideWhen’ e went to tend the wounded under fire!It was ‘Din! Din! Din!’With the bullets kickin’ dust-spots on the green.When the cartridges ran out,You could hear the front-ranks shout,’Hi! ammunition-mules an’ Gunga Din!’
I shan’t forgit the nightWhen I dropped be’ind the fightWith a bullet where my belt-plate should’ a’ been.I was chokin’ mad with thirst,An’ the man that spied me firstWas our good old grinnin’, gruntin’ Gunga Din.’ E lifted up my’ ead,An’ he plugged me where I bled,An» e guv me’ arf-a-pint o’ water green.It was crawlin’ and it stunk,But of all the drinks I’ve drunk,I’m gratefullest to one from Gunga Din.It was ‘Din! Din! Din!»Ere’s a beggar with a bullet through’ is spleen;»E’s chawin’ up the ground,‘An’ ’e’s kickin’ all around:For Gawd’s sake git the water, Gunga Din!’
‘ E carried me awayTo where a dooli lay,An’ a bullet come an’ drilled the beggar clean.’ E put me safe inside,An’ just before’ e died,’I’ ope you liked your drink,’ sez Gunga Din.So I’ll meet ‘im later onAt the place where’ e is gone—Where it’s always double drill and no canteen.’E’ll be squattin’ on the coalsGivin’ drink to poor damned souls,An’ I’ll get a swig in hell from Gunga Din!Yes, Din! Din! Din!You Lazarushian-leather Gunga Din!Though I’ve belted you and flayed you,By the livin’ Gawd that made you,You’re a better man than I am, Gunga Din!
The Way Through the Woods — Rudyard Kipling
Published in 1910, ‘The Way Through the Woods’ is a reflective and atmospheric poem. It mourns a lost woodland path and the railway line that supplanted it, lamenting the irreversible changes brought by progress.
I believe ‘The Way Through the Woods’ resonates with readers because of its evocative imagery and melancholic tone. It presents a poignant commentary on the loss of nature to industrialization, a theme that continues to resonate in our increasingly urbanized world.
They shut the road through the woodsSeventy years ago.Weather and rain have undone it again,And now you would never knowThere was once a road through the woodsBefore they planted the trees.It is underneath the coppice and heath,And the thin anemones.Only the keeper seesThat, where the ring-dove broods,And the badgers roll at ease,There was once a road through the woods.
Yet, if you enter the woodsOf a summer evening late,When the night-air cools on the trout-ringed poolsWhere the otter whistles his mate,(They fear not men in the woods,Because they see so few.)You will hear the beat of a horse’s feet,And the swish of a skirt in the dew,Steadily cantering throughThe misty solitudes,As though they perfectly knewThe old lost road through the woods.But there is no road through the woods.
The Vampire — Rudyard Kipling
‘The Vampire,’ published in 1897, is a Kipling poem inspired by his cousin’s painting of the same name. The poem explores themes of fatal attraction and destructive relationships, serving as a warning against manipulative individuals.
‘The Vampire’ intrigues readers with its dark theme and strong message. Its stark portrayal of destructive relationships and the emotional depth within the poem offer an interesting contrast to Kipling’s typically adventurous and morally instructive narratives.
A fool there was and he made his prayer(Even as you or I!)To a rag and a bone and a hank of hair,(We called her the woman who did not care),But the fool he called her his lady fair—(Even as you or I!)
Oh, the years we waste and the tears we waste,And the work of our head and handBelong to the woman who did not know(And now we know that she never could know)And did not understand!
A fool there was and his goods he spent,(Even as you or I!)Honour and faith and a sure intent(And it wasn’t the least what the lady meant),But a fool must follow his natural bent(Even as you or I!)
Oh, the toil we lost and the spoil we lostAnd the excellent things we plannedBelong to the woman who didn’t know why(And now we know that she never knew why)And did not understand!
The fool was stripped to his foolish hide,(Even as you or I!)Which she might have seen when she threw him aside—(But it isn’t on record the lady tried)So some of him lived but the most of him died—(Even as you or I!)
And it isn’t the shame and it isn’t the blameThat stings like a white-hot brand—It’s coming to know that she never knew why(Seeing, at last, she could never know why)And never could understand!
Rudyard Kipling Biography
Rudyard Kipling was born on December 30, 1865, in Bombay, British India, a locale that deeply influenced his worldview and writing. His early life was characterized by the contrasts and complexities of colonial India, from which he drew inspiration throughout his career.
Kipling’s interest in literature was sparked during his education in England, where he was sent at the age of six. Despite the hardship of separation from his family and the harsh conditions at the boarding school, he discovered his love for literature and started cultivating his writing talent. After completing his education, he returned to India. He began working as a journalist, a profession that honed his observational skills and enhanced his understanding of the dynamics of the colonial world.
Kipling’s works, including poems, short stories, and novels, are marked by his distinctive narrative voice, vivid descriptions, and exploration of British imperialism. His poetry, such as «If,» «Mandalay,» and «Gunga Din,» showcase his keen observation of human nature and his mastery of rhythmic, rhyming verse. His novels, notably «Kim» and «The Jungle Book,» further illuminate his understanding of colonial India and his ability to create rich, imaginative landscapes.
Kipling’s personal life was closely tied to his work. He married Caroline (Carrie) Balestier in 1892, and they had three children. His life was marred by the tragic deaths of two of his children, which deeply affected him and influenced his writing. Kipling traveled extensively with his family, living in the United States, South Africa, and England, each place leaving its imprint on his work.
Kipling’s legacy is complex due to his controversial portrayal of colonialism and racial politics. However, his contribution to literature is undeniably significant. In 1907, he received the Nobel Prize in Literature, becoming the first English-language writer to receive this honor. His works have left an indelible mark on English literature, influencing generations of writers and thinkers.
In his later years, Kipling continued to write and remained influential, though his views increasingly fell out of sync with a changing world. He passed away on January 18, 1936, but his body of work continues to be read, discussed, and sometimes debated.
In summary, Rudyard Kipling was a prolific writer whose keen observation of the human condition, mastery of the narrative form, and vivid portrayal of colonial India have left a lasting legacy in English literature. Despite his controversial views, his influence and significance as a writer cannot be overlooked.
This poet is one of the 20th Century’s Most Influential Poets.
I hope you have enjoyed this selection of the best and most famous poems written by Rudyard Kipling.
Discover more British Poets (20th Century and Later):
- D.H. Lawrence
- Thomas Hardy
- Alan Seeger
- William Butler Yeats
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A Child’s Garden — Rudyard Kipling
‘A Child’s Garden’ is a nostalgic poem from Kipling’s 1911 collection, «Rewards and Fairies,» reflecting on the innocence and wonder of childhood.
I believe the charm of ‘A Child’s Garden’ lies in its exploration of childhood innocence and the magic of imagination. Its vivid imagery and emotional resonance evoke a sense of nostalgia, which I think strikes a chord with many readers.
Now there is nothing wrong with meExcept—I think it’s called T.B.And that is why I have to layOut in the garden all the day.
Our garden is not very wide,And cars go by on either side,And make an angry-hooty noiseThat rather startles little boys.
But worst of all is when they takeMe out in cars that growl and shake,With charabancs so dreadful-nearI have to shut my eyes for fear.
But when I’m on my back again,I watch the Croydon aeroplaneThat flies across to France, and singsLike hitting thick piano-strings.
When I am strong enough to doThe things I’m truly wishful to,I’ll never use a car or trainBut always have an aeroplane;
And just go zooming round and round,And frighten Nursey with the sound,And see the angel-side of clouds,And spit on all those motor-crowds!
COMPLETE COLLECTION OF POEMSBY
Rudyard Kipling
(Born December 30, 1865, Died January 18, 1936)
|
Now this is the Law of the Jungle — as old and as true as the sky; From The Law of the Jungle |
Kipling gained renown throughout the world as a poet and storyteller.
He was also known as a leading supporter of the British Empire.
As apparent from his stories and poems, Kipling interested himself in
the romance and adventure which he found in Great Britain’s colonial
expansion.
Kipling was born on Dec.30, 1865, in Bombay, where his father directed
an art school. He learned Hindi from his nurse, and he also learned
stories of jungle animals. At six, he was sent to school in England,
but until he was 12, poor health kept him from attending. At 17,
Kipling returned to India and soon became a journalist. He wrote
sketches and verses which at first were used as fillers for
unused editorial space. Many were later published in Departmental
Ditties (1886). At this time, he also created his soldiers three,
and Irishman, a Cockney, and a Yorkshireman, the bases for his 1888
humorous tale Soldiers Three.
In 1889, Kipling return to England. In the 1890s, he developed a great
interest in folk legends and animal myths. The Jungle Book (1894)
and Just So Stories (1902) give the wit and wisdom of the
animals who can talk. The stories of Mowgli, a man-cub who was the
central character in The Jungle Book, brought Kipling great
popularity in England and the United States.
Kipling composed many of his poems while living for several years in
the United States in the mid-1890s. His poems became famous for their
lively, swinging rhythm. Typical are Gunga Din
and Mandalay. The first tells of the courage
of an Indian boy who is shot while carrying water to British soldiers in the
thick of battle. Mandalay tries to capture the strange atmosphere of
the east.
In 1896, Kipling returned to England from the United States. By then, he was
a controversial figure because of his views toward empire, which many
misunderstood. In many of his works, Kipling seemed to imply that it was
the duty of Great Britain to carry the white man’s burden by
civilizing backward races. But he was not just the shallow imperialist
that his critics tried to make him appear. His famous poem,
Recessional, written in 1897 in honor
of Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee, contains a strong warning to the British
not to exploit other races.
In 1900, Kipling went to South Africa to report the
Boer War for an English
newspaper. In 1905, Kipling completed Kim, his first
major novel. In it he gives a colorful and dramatic picture of the complicated
life of the Indian People, as seen through the eyes of the poor orphan boy, Kim.
Kipling received the 1907 Nobel prize for literature.
Before World War I, Kipling became active in politics. he widely lectured and
wrote for the British cause both before and during the war. His only son was
killed in World War I. After the war, Kipling wrote Songs for
Youth (1925), another of his highly popular works.
Dmitry Karshtedt
Перевод Михаила Лозинского
Владей собой среди толпы смятенной,
Тебя клянущей за смятенье всех,
Верь сам в себя, наперекор вселенной,
И маловерным отпусти их грех;
Пусть час не пробил, жди, не уставая,
Пусть лгут лжецы, не снисходи до них;
Умей прощать и не кажись, прощая,
Великодушней и мудрей других.
Умей мечтать, не став рабом мечтанья,
И мыслить, мысли не обожествив;
Равно встречай успех и поруганье,
Не забывая, что их голос лжив;
Останься тих, когда твое же слово
Калечит плут, чтоб уловлять глупцов,
Когда вся жизнь разрушена, и снова
Ты должен все воссоздавать с основ.
Умей поставить, в радостной надежде,
На карту все, что накопил с трудом,
Все проиграть и нищим стать, как прежде,
И никогда не пожалеть о том;
Умей принудить сердце, нервы, тело
Тебе служить, когда в твоей груди
Уже давно все пусто, все сгорело.
И только Воля говорит: «Иди!»
Останься прост, беседуя с царями,
Останься честен, говоря с толпой;
Будь прям и тверд с врагами и с друзьями,
Пусть все, в свой час, считаются с тобой;
Наполни смыслом каждое мгновенье,
Часов и дней неумолимый бег,—
Тогда весь мир ты примешь, как владенье,
Тогда, мой сын, ты будешь Человек!
Перевод Аллы Шараповой
Из тех ли ты, кто не дрожал в сраженье,
Но страх других себе в вину вменил,
Кто недоверие и осужденье
Сумел признать, но доблесть сохранил?
Кто бодро ждал и помнил, что негоже
Неправдою отплачивать лжецу
И злом злодею (но и этим тоже
Гордиться чересчур нам не к лицу).
Ты — друг Мечты, но средь ее туманов
Не заблудиться смог? И не считал,
Что Мысль есть Бог? И жалких шарлатанов
Триумф и Крах— с улыбкой отметал?
И ты сумеешь не придать значенья,
Когда рабы твой труд испепелят
И смысл высокий твоего ученья
Толпа на свой перетолкует лад?
Рискнешь в игре поставить состоянье,
А если проиграешь все, что есть,—
Почувствуешь в душе одно желанье:
Встать от игры и за труды засесть?
Послушна ли тебе и в боли дикой
Вся армия артерий, нервов, жил?
Воспитана ли Воля столь великой,
Чтоб телу зов ее законом был?
Ты прям и прост на королевской службе?
С простолюдином кроток? Справедлив
К достойному назло вражде и дружбе?
Властителен порой, но не кичлив?
И правда ли, что даже малой доли
Своих часов, минут ты господин?
Ну что ж! Земля твоя — и даже боле
Тебе скажу: ты Человек, мой сын!
Возможно, вас также заинтересуют переводы Сонета 66 Уильяма Шекспира, сонеты Шекспира о любви, коллекция любимых стихов Бориса Пастернака, поэзия о детях и родителях и подборка проникновенных стихотворений о любви.
Киплинг стихи Заповедь
Владей собой среди толпы смятенной,
Тебя клянущей за смятенье всех,
Верь сам в себя наперекор вселенной,
И маловерным отпусти их грех;
Пусть час не пробил, жди, не уставая,
Пусть лгут лжецы, не снисходи до них;
Умей прощать и не кажись, прощая,
Великодушней и мудрей других.
Умей мечтать, не став рабом мечтанья,
И мыслить, мысли не обожествив;
Равно встречай успех и поруганье,
He забывая, что их голос лжив;
Останься тих, когда твое же слово
Калечит плут, чтоб уловлять глупцов,
Когда вся жизнь разрушена и снова
Ты должен все воссоздавать c основ.
Умей поставить в радостной надежде,
Ha карту все, что накопил c трудом,
Bce проиграть и нищим стать как прежде
И никогда не пожалеть o том,
Умей принудить сердце, нервы, тело
Тебе служить, когда в твоей груди
Уже давно все пусто, все сгорело
И только Воля говорит: «Иди!»
Останься прост, беседуя c царями,
Будь честен, говоря c толпой;
Будь прям и тверд c врагами и друзьями,
Пусть все в свой час считаются c тобой;
Наполни смыслом каждое мгновенье
Часов и дней неуловимый бег, —
Тогда весь мир ты примешь как владенье
Тогда, мой сын, ты будешь Человек!
Стихотворение было напечатано в 1910 году в октябрьском номере «The American Magazine» и моментально стало известным. Произведение представляет собой некое напутствие человеку как правильно жить.
Текст стихотворения заповедь
О, если ты спокоен, не растерян,
Когда теряют головы вокруг,
И если ты себе остался верен,
Когда в тебя не верит лучший друг,
И если ждать умеешь без волненья,
Не станешь ложью отвечать на ложь,
Не будешь злобен, став для всех мишенью,
Но и святым себя не назовешь, —
И если ты своей владеешь страстью,
А не тобою властвует она,
И будешь тверд в удаче и в несчастье,
Которым в сущности цена одна,
И если ты готов к тому, что слово
Твое в ловушку превращает плут,
И, потерпев крушенье, можешь снова —
Без прежних сил — возобновлять свой труд.
И если ты способен все, что стало
Тебе привычным, выложить на стол,
Все проиграть и вновь начать сначала,
Не пожалев того, что приобрел,
И если можешь, сердце, нервы, жилы
Так завести, чтобы вперед нестись,
Когда с годами изменяют силы
И только воля говорит: «держись!» —
И если можешь быть в толпе собою,
При короле с народом связь хранить
И, уважая мнение любое,
Главы перед молвою не клонить,
И если будешь мерить расстоянье
Секундами, пускаясь в дальний бег, —
Земля — твое, мой мальчик, достоянье,
И более того, ты — человек!
Киплинг заповедь, на английском
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream-and not make dreams your master;
If you can think-and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings-nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And-which is more-you’ll be a Man, my son!
Слушать стихотворение Редьярда Киплинга «Заповедь»
Перевод Александра Грибанова
Сумей, не дрогнув среди общей смуты,
Людскую ненависть перенести
И не судить, но в страшные минуты
Остаться верным своему пути.
Умей не раздражаться ожиданьем,
Не мстить за зло, не лгать в ответ на ложь,
Не утешаясь явным или тайным
Сознаньем, до чего же ты хорош.
Умей держать мечту в повиновенье,
Чти разум, но не замыкайся в нем,
Запомни, что успех и пораженье —
Две лживых маски на лице одном.
Пусть правда, выстраданная тобою,
Окажется в объятьях подлеца,
Пусть рухнет мир, умей собраться к бою,
Поднять свой меч и биться до конца.
Сумей, когда игра того достойна,
Связать судьбу с одним броском костей,
А проиграв, снести удар спокойно
И без ненужных слов начать с нулей.
Сумей заставить сношенное тело
Служить сверх срока, не сбавляя ход.
Пусть нервы, сердце — все окаменело,
Рванутся, если Воля подстегнет.
Идя с толпой, умей не слиться с нею,
Останься прям, служа при королях.
Ничьим речам не дай звучать слышнее,
Чем голос истины в твоих ушах.
Свой каждый миг сумей прожить во славу
Далекой цели, блещущей с вершин.
Сумеешь — и Земля твоя по праву,
И, что важней, ты Человек, мой сын!
Экранизации
Ганга Дин / Gunga Din — США (1939)
Ежик плюс черепаха (И. Уфимцев) ,1981 г. м/ф
Как было написано первое письмо (1984, м/ф, А. Кирик)
Капитан Кураж / Captains Courageous (Майкл Андерсон , 1996)
Ким / Kim — США (1950)
Ким / Kim (Джон Ховард Дейвис ) ,1984, Великобретания
Книга джунглей / Jungle Book (Золтан Корда) ,1942 г.
Книга джунглей / The Jungle Book (Вольфганг Райтерман) ,1967 г.
Книга джунглей — 1, 2 / Janguru Bukku shonen Maguri-1,2 / 2 x 26 серий (Фумио Курокава, Кимио Ябуки) ,1990 г., Мультсериал
Книга джунглей / The Jungle Book — США (1994)
Книга джунглей 2 / The Jungle Book 2 (Стив Тренберт) ,2003 м/ф
Вторая книга джунглей. Маугли и Балу / The Second Jungle Book: Mowgli & Baloo (Дункан МакЛахлен) ,1997
Кот, который гулял сам по себе ,1968 г. и КОШКА, КОТОРАЯ ГУЛЯЛА САМА ПО СЕБЕ, 1988 г., мультфильм
Крошка Вилли Винки (Wee Willie Winkie) — США (1937)
Маугли (Роман Давыдов) ,1973 г., мультипликационный фильм
Маленький погонщик слонов / Elephant Boy (Роберт Дж. Флаэрти ) ,1937 г.
Отважные капитаны / Captains Courageous — США (1937)
Рикки-Тикки-Тави (Александр Згуриди) ,1975 г.,
Слонёнок (Анна Щекалина) ,1936 г., мультфильм
Слонёнок / Слоненок (Редьярд Киплинг. «Союзмультфильм», 1967 г. Реж. Ефим Гамбург)
Человек, который хотел быть королем / The Man Who Would Be King — США (Д.Хьюстон) (1975)
Библиография
Департаментские песни (1886, сборник стихов)
Простые рассказы с гор (1888, сборник)
Три солдата (1888, сборник)
Ви-Вилли-Винки (1888, сборник)
Свет погас (1891, роман)
Песни казармы (1892, стихи)
Наулака: История о Западе и Востоке (1892, роман, в соавторстве с У.Балестьером)
Масса выдумок (1893, сборник)
Книга джунглей (Маугли)(1894)
Вторая книга джунглей (1895)
Отважные капитаны (1896, роман для юношества)
Семь морей (1896, сборник стихов)
Белые тезисы (1896, сборник стихов)
Труды дня (1898, сборник)
Сталки и К° (1899, роман, из нескольких новелл)
От моря до моря (путевые заметки) (1899, репортерская проза)
Пять наций (1903, сборник стихов)
Ким (1901, роман)
Сказки просто так (Just So Stories) (1902)
Пути и открытия (1904, сборник)
Пак с холма Пука ( Puck of Pook’s Hill , 1906, сказки, стихи и рассказы)
Действие и противодействие (1909, сборник)
Награды и Феи (1910, сказки, стихи и рассказы)
Самые разные существа (1917, сборник)
Ирландские гвардейцы во время Великой войны (1923, публицистика)
Дебет и кредит (1926, сборник)
Ограничение и обновление (1932, сборник)
Немного о себе (1937, автобиография)
Перевод Владимира Корнилова
Когда ты тверд, а все вокруг в смятенье,
Тебя в своем смятенье обвинив,
Когда уверен ты, а все в сомненье,
А ты к таким сомненьям терпелив;
Когда ты ждешь, не злясь на ожиданье,
И клеветой за клевету не мстишь,
За ненависть не платишь той же данью,
Но праведным отнюдь себя не мнишь;
Когда в мечте не ищешь утешенья,
Когда не ставишь самоцелью мысль,
Когда к победе или к пораженью
Ты можешь равнодушно отнестись;
Когда готов терпеть, что станет подлость
Твой выстраданный идеал чернить,
Ловушкой делать, приводить в негодность,
А ты еще готов его чинить;
Когда согласен на орла и решку
Поставить все и тотчас проиграть,
И тотчас же, мгновенья не помешкав,
Ни слова не сказав, сыграть опять;
Когда способен сердце, нервы, жилы
Служить себе заставить, хоть они
Не тянут — вся их сила отслужила,
Но только Воля требует: «Тяни!»
Когда — хоть для тебя толпа не идол —
При короле ты помнишь о толпе;
Когда людей ты понял и обиды
Не нанесут ни враг, ни друг тебе;
Когда трудом ты каждый миг заполнил
И беспощадность Леты опроверг,
Тогда, мой сын. Земля твоя — запомни! —
И — более того — ты Человек!
Mandalay — Rudyard Kipling
‘Mandalay’ is a narrative poem first published in 1890. It recounts the longing of a British soldier for the exotic charm and simplicity of Burma, away from the rigidity and restrictions of his homeland.
I believe ‘Mandalay’ captivates audiences with its vivid descriptions and emotive narrative. Its exploration of longing for a place and time, unreachable and lost, strikes a universal chord. The soldier’s nostalgia and yearning for a simpler life offer a powerful perspective that many readers can relate to.
By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin’ lazy at the sea,There’s a Burma girl a-settin’, and I know she thinks o’ me;For the wind is in the palm-trees, and the temple-bells they say:»Come you back, you British soldier; come you back to Mandalay! «Come you back to Mandalay,Where the old Flotilla lay:Can’t you ‘ear their paddles chunkin’ from Rangoon to Mandalay ?On the road to Mandalay,Where the flyin’-fishes play,An’ the dawn comes up like thunder outer China’ crost the Bay!
‘Er petticoat was yaller an’ ‘er little cap was green,An’ ‘er name was Supi-yaw-lat — jes’ the same as Theebaw’s Queen,An’ I seed her first a-smokin’ of a whackin’ white cheroot,An’ a-wastin’ Christian kisses on an ‘eathen idol’s foot:Bloomin’ idol made o’ mudWot they called the Great Gawd BuddPlucky lot she cared for idols when I kissed ‘er where she stud!On the road to Mandalay…
When the mist was on the rice-fields an’ the sun was droppin’ slow,She’d git ‘er little banjo an’ she’d sing «Kulla-lo-lo!With ‘er arm upon my shoulder an’ ‘er cheek agin my cheekWe useter watch the steamers an’ the hathis pilin’ teak.Elephints a-pilin’ teakIn the sludgy, squdgy creek,Where the silence ‘ung that ‘eavy you was ‘arf afraid to speak!On the road to Mandalay…
But that’s all shove be’ind me — long ago an’ fur awayAn’ there ain’t no ‘busses runnin’ from the Bank to Mandalay;An’ I’m learnin’ ‘ere in London what the ten-year soldier tells:»If you’ve ‘eard the East a-callin’, you won’t never ‘eed naught else.»No! you won’t ‘eed nothin’ elseBut them spicy garlic smells,An’ the sunshine an’ the palm-trees an’ the tinkly temple-bells;On the road to Mandalay…
I am sick o’ wastin’ leather on these gritty pavin’-stones,An’ the blasted English drizzle wakes the fever in my bones;Tho’ I walks with fifty’ ousemaids outer Chelsea to the Strand,An’ they talks a lot o’ lovin’, but wot do they understand?Beefy face an’ grubby ‘and -Law! wot do they understand?I’ve a neater, sweeter maiden in a cleaner, greener land!On the road to Mandalay…
Ship me somewheres east of Suez, where the best is like the worst,Where there aren’t no Ten Commandments an’ a man can raise a thirst;For the temple-bells are callin’, an’ it’s there that I would beBy the old Moulmein Pagoda, looking lazy at the sea;On the road to Mandalay,Where the old Flotilla lay,With our sick beneath the awnings when we went to Mandalay!O the road to Mandalay,Where the flyin’-fishes play,An’ the dawn comes up like thunder outer China’ crost the Bay !