Amy Lowell (Эми Лоуэлл)

Crowned

You came to me bearing bright roses,
Red like the wine of your heart;
You twisted them into a garland
To set me aside from the mart.
Red roses to crown me your lover,
And I walked aureoled and apart.
Enslaved and encircled, I bore it,
Proud token of my gift to you.
The petals waned paler, and shriveled,
And dropped; and the thorns started through.
Bitter thorns to proclaim me your lover,
A diadem woven with rue.

1. The Coal Picker
2. The Cross-Roads
3. In Answer to a Request
4. Late September
5. The Pike

Распечатать (Print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1210

Последние стихотворения

To English version