Amy Lowell (Эми Лоуэлл)

A Lady

You are beautiful and faded
Like an old opera tune
Played upon a harpsichord;
Or like the sun-flooded silks
Of an eighteenth-century boudoir.
In your eyes
Smoulder the fallen roses of out-lived minutes,
And the perfume of your soul
Is vague and suffusing,
With the pungence of sealed spice-jars.
Your half-tones delight me,
And I grow mad with gazing
At your blent colours.
My vigour is a new-minted penny,
Which I cast at your feet.
Gather it up from the dust,
That its sparkle may amuse you.

1. The Pike
2. The Painter on Silk
3. Miscast I
4. Fringed Gentians
5. Fragment (What is poetry? Is it a mosaic)

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1541

Последние стихотворения

To English version