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Vachel Lindsay (Вэчел Линдсей) Our Guardian Angels and Their Children Where a river roars in rapids And doves in maples fret, Where peace has decked the pastures Our guardian angels met. Long they had sought each other In God’s mysterious name, Had climbed the solemn chaos tides Alone, with hope aflame: Amid the demon deeps had wound By many a fearful way. As they beheld each other Their shout made glad the day. No need of purse delayed them, No hand of friend or kin — Nor menace of the bell and book, Nor fear of mortal sin. You did not speak, my girl, At this, our parting hour. Long we held each other And watched their deeds of power. They made a curious Eden. We saw that it was good. We thought with them in unison. We proudly understood Their amaranth eternal, Their roses strange and fair, The asphodels they scattered Upon the living air. They built a house of clouds With skilled immortal hands. They entered through the silver doors. Their wings were wedded brands. I labored up the valley To granite mountains free. You hurried down the river To Zidon by the sea. But at their place of meeting They keep a home and shrine. Your angel twists a purple flax, Then weaves a mantle fine. My angel, her defender Upstanding, spreads the light On painted clouds of fancy And mists that touch the height. Their sturdy babes speak kindly And fly and run with joy, Shepherding the helpless lambs — A Grecian girl and boy. These children visit Heaven Each year and make of worth All we planned and wrought in youth And all our tears on earth. From books our God has written They sing of high desire. They turn the leaves in gentleness. Their wings are folded fire. Vachel Lindsay's other poems:
Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1268 |
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