David Herbert Lawrence (Дэвид Герберт Лоуренс)

Anxiety

The hoar-frost crumbles in the sun,
The crisping steam of a train
Melts in the air, while two black birds
Sweep past the window again.

Along the vacant road, a red
Bicycle approaches; I wait
In a thaw of anxiety, for the boy
To leap down at our gate.

He has passed us by; but is it
Relief that starts in my breast?
Or a deeper bruise of knowing that still
She has no rest. 

1. Reproach
2. Sickness
3. Brooding Grief
4. Humming-Bird
5. A Baby Running Barefoot

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1651

Последние стихотворения

To English version