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Stephen Crane (Стивен Крейн)


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Why do you strive for greatness, fool?
Go pluck a bough and wear it.
It is as sufficing.

My Lord, there are certain barbarians
Who tilt their noses
As if the stars were flowers,
And Thy servant is lost among their shoe-buckles.
Fain would I have mine eyes even with their eyes.

Fool, go pluck a bough and wear it.



Stephen Crane's other poems:
  1. The ocean said to me once
  2. On the desert
  3. To the maiden
  4. Two or three angels
  5. You tell me this is God?


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