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Ina Donna Coolbrith (Ина Донна Кулбрит) Who Knoweth? WHO knoweth the hope that was born to me, When the spring - time came with its greenery! With orchard blossoming, fair to see, With drone of beetle, and buzz of bee, And robin a trill on his apple-tree, Cheerily, cheerily! Who knoweth the hope that was dead—ah me! That was dead — and never again to be, When the winter came, all dismally, With desolate rain on desolate sea; With cold snow - blossoms for wood and lea, And the wind a-moan in the apple-tree, Drearily, drearily! Ina Donna Coolbrith's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1216 |
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