Jonathan Swift (Джонатан Свифт)

On the Moon

I with borrow'd silver shine
What you see is none of mine.
First I show you but a quarter,
Like the bow that guards the Tartar:
Then the half, and then the whole,
Ever dancing round the pole.

What will raise your admiration,
I am not one of God's creation,
But sprung, (and I this truth maintain,)
Like Pallas, from my father's brain.
And after all, I chiefly owe
My beauty to the shades below.

Most wondrous forms you see me wear,
A man, a woman, lion, bear,
A fish, a fowl, a cloud, a field,
All figures Heaven or earth can yield;
Like Daphne sometimes in a tree;
Yet am not one of all you see. 

1. A Rebus. By Vanessa
2. Love
3. Двенадцать эпиграмм для леди Ачесон. 11 • Twelve Articles Addressed to Lady Acheson. 11
4. Двенадцать эпиграмм для леди Ачесон. Заключение • Twelve Articles Addressed to Lady Acheson. Conclusion
5. Двенадцать эпиграмм для леди Ачесон. 8 • Twelve Articles Addressed to Lady Acheson. 8

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 3043

Последние стихотворения

To English version