Stephen Crane (Стивен Крейн)

* * *

Behold, from the land of the farther suns
I returned.
And I was in a reptile-swarming place,
Peopled, otherwise, with grimaces,
Shrouded above in black impenetrableness.
I shrank, loathing,
Sick with it.
And I said to him,
"What is this?"
He made answer slowly,
"Spirit, this is a world;
This was your home."

1. Love walked alone
2. To the maiden
3. If there is a witness to my little life
4. On the horizon the peaks assembled
5. Tell brave deeds of war

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1626

Последние стихотворения

To English version