Edward Thomas (Эдвард Томас)

Bright Clouds

BRIGHT clouds of may
Shade half the pond.
Beyond,
All but one bay
Of emerald
Tall reeds
Like criss-cross bayonets
Where a bird once called,
Lies bright as the sun.
No one heeds.
The light wind frets
And drifts the scum
Of may-blossom.
Till the moorhen calls
Again
Naught's to be done
By birds or men.
Still the may falls.

1. The Green Roads
2. The Sun Used to Shine
3. The Mill-Pond
4. Melancholy
5. May 23

Распечатать (Print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1229

Последние стихотворения

To English version