Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))

An Unkindly May

A shepherd stands by a gate in a white smock-frock:
He holds the gate ajar, intently counting his flock.

The sour spring wind is blurting boisterous-wise,
And bears on it dirty clouds across the skies;
Plantation timbers creak like rusty cranes,
And pigeons and rooks, dishevelled by late rains,
Are like gaunt vultures, sodden and unkempt,
And song-birds do not end what they attempt:
The buds have tried to open, but quite failing
Have pinched themselves together in their quailing.
The sun frowns whitely in eye-trying flaps
Through passing cloud-holes, mimicking audible taps.
‘Nature, you’re not commendable to-day!’
I think. ‘Better to-morrow!’ she seems to say.

That shepherd still stands in that white smock-frock,
Unnoting all things save the counting his flock.

1. The End of the Episode
2. No Buyers
3. The Felled Elm and She
4. The Rejected Member’s Wife
5. Ten Years Since

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