|
Главная • Биографии • Стихи по темам • Случайное стихотворение • Переводчики • Ссылки • Антологии Рейтинг поэтов • Рейтинг стихотворений |
|
Anna Hempstead Branch (Анна Хемпстед Брэнч) The Warrior Maid They bade me to my spinning Because I was a maid, But down into the battle I marshalled unafraid. Brightly against the sunbeams I shook the flaming lance. Then out I swept to gather With the red and royal dance. The war was stately in me, And in my heart was pride— Fierce moods like neighing horses Most terribly did ride. Deep as a sea of scarlet I saw the banners roll— And then the great war terror Laid hold upon my soul. I laughed aloud to feel it And royally did cheer: I strode amid my tremblings And did not fear to fear. A warrior rode against me. I laid him to his rest. I could not stop to gather The bright sword from his breast. But on I drove in splendor, I—that was but a maid— With piercing calls of triumph And I was not afraid. But once, beneath my charging, A face shone up below. Dead in the bloody furrow, A stranger white as snow! The foe rode close behind me! I lost the day for this— I sprang from off my stallion And left on him a kiss. The sword that pierced his bosom With jewelled splendor shone. I snatched it from him bleeding, And lo, it was my own. The spears blazed thick around me When I leaped forth again. But jubilant they found me To face a thousand men. Bright-voiced was my laughter, I—that was but a maid! And when the sharp gyve bound me, Then was I not afraid. Ah, hadst thou lived, my warrior, Among the glorious ones, I had borne thee savage daughters And beautiful fierce sons. Anna Hempstead Branch's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1215 |
||
Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |