Dylan Thomas (Дилан Томас)

Clown in the Moon

My tears are like the quiet drift
Of petals from some magic rose;
And all my grief flows from the rift
Of unremembered skies and snows.

I think, that if I touched the earth,
It would crumble;
It is so sad and beautiful,
So tremulously like a dream.

1. If My Head Hurt a Hair's Foot
2. Here in This spring
3. On the Marriage of a Virgin
4. Altarwise by Owl-Light
5. This Bread I Break

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1372

Последние стихотворения

To English version