ריצ'רד קורי / אדווין ארלינגטון רובינזון

Richard Cory

Edwin Arlington Robinson

Whenever Richard Cory went down town, We people on the pavement looked at him: He was a gentleman from sole to crown, Clean-favoured and imperially slim.

And he was always quietly arrayed, And he was always human when he talked; But still he fluttered pulses when he said, "Good Morning!" and he glittered when he walked.

And he was rich, yes, richer than a king, And admirably schooled in every grace: In fine — we thought that he was everything To make us wish that we were in his place.

So on we worked and waited for the light, And went without the meat and cursed the bread, And Richard Cory, one calm summer night, Went home and put a bullet in his head.

ריצ'רד קורי / אדווין ארלינגטון רובינזון

תָּמִיד כְּשֶׁאֶל הָעִיר יָרַד לוֹ רִיצַ'רְד קוֹרִי,

אֲנַחְנוּ, בְּנֵי קַרְנוֹת רְחוֹב, הִבַּטְנוּ בּוֹ:

הָיָה הוּא גֶ'נְטְלְמֶן עַד קְצֵה צִפֹּרֶן,

טָהֹר וְדַק גִּזְרָה כְּמֶלֶךְ בְּעַמּוֹ. 

תָּמִיד הָיָה לָבוּשׁ בַּאֲנִינוּת וָטַעַם,

כֹּה אֱנוֹשִׁי הָיָה בְּדִבּוּרוֹ;

לִבִּי כִּמְעַט פָּרַח שָׁעָה שֶׁפַּעַם

הִקְדִּים בִּרְכַּת שָׁלוֹם לִי בְּעָבְרוֹ.