Elinor Wylie (Элинор Уайли)

Les Lauriers Sont Coupée

Ah, love, within the shadow of the wood 
The laurels are cut down; some other brows 
May bear the classic wreath which Fame allows 
And find the burden honorable and good. 
Have we not passed the laurels as they stood-- 
Soft in the veil with which Spring endows 
The wintry glitter of their woven boughs-- 
Nor stopped to break the branches while we could?

Ah, love, for other brows they are cut down. 
Thornless and scentless are their stems and flowers, 
And cold as death their twisted coronal. 
Sweeter to us the sharpness of this crown; 
Sweeter the wildest roses which are ours; 
Sweeter the petals, even when they fall.

1. The Falcon
2. Bronze Trumpets and Sea Water - On Turning Latin into English
3. The Lost Path
4. Address to My Soul
5. Madman’s Song

Распечатать (Print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1284

Последние стихотворения

To English version