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Bliss Carman (Блисс Кармен)


The Rainbird


I hear a rainbird singing
Far off. How fine and clear
His plaintive voice comes ringing
With rapture to the ear!

Over the misty wood-lots,
Across the first spring heat,
Comes the enchanted cadence,
So clear, so solemn-sweet.

How often I have hearkened
To that high pealing strain
Across wild cedar barrens,
Under the soft gray rain!

How often I have wondered,
And longed in vain to know
The source of that enchantment,
That touch of human woe!

O brother, who first taught thee
To haunt the teeming spring
With that sad mortal wisdom
Which only age can bring?



Bliss Carman's other poems:
  1. The Sailing of the Fleets
  2. The Urban Pan
  3. Fireflies
  4. 'Tis May Now in New England
  5. The Tree of Heaven


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Английская поэзия