Dylan Thomas (Дилан Томас)

Among Those Killed in the Dawn Raid Was a Man Aged a Hundred

When the morning was waking over the war
He put on his clothes and stepped out and he died,
The locks yawned loose and a blast blew them wide,
He dropped where he loved on the burst pavement stone
And the funeral grains of the slaughtered floor.
Tell his street on its back he stopped a sun
And the craters of his eyes grew springshots and fire
When all the keys shot from the locks, and rang.
Dig no more for the chains of his grey-haired heart.
The heavenly ambulance drawn by a wound
Assembling waits for the spade’s ring on the cage.
O keep his bones away from the common cart,
The morning is flying on the wings of his age
And a hundred storks perch on the sun’s right hand.

1. Into Her Lying Down Head
2. The Tombstone Told When She Died
3. In the White Giant's Thigh
4. Ceremony after a Fire Raid
5. To Others Than You

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1638

Последние стихотворения

To English version