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Stephen Crane (Стивен Крейн)


* * *


I stood upon a highway,
And, behold, there came
Many strange peddlers.
To me each one made gestures,
Holding forth little images, saying,
”This is my pattern of God.
Now this is the God I prefer.”

But I said, ”Hence!
Leave me with mine own,
And take you yours away;
I can’t buy of your patterns of God,
The little gods you may rightly prefer.”



Stephen Crane's other poems:
  1. Once a man clambering to the housetops
  2. On the horizon the peaks assembled
  3. You tell me this is God?
  4. I explain the silvered passing of a ship at night
  5. In the night


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