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Главная • Биографии • Стихи по темам • Случайное стихотворение • Переводчики • Ссылки • Антологии Рейтинг поэтов • Рейтинг стихотворений |
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Charles Walter Stansby Williams (Чарльз Уолтер Стенсби Уильямс) Taliessin’s Return to Logres The seas were left behind; in a harbour of Logres lightly I came to land under a roaring wind Strained were the golden sails, the masts of the galley creaked as it rode for the Golden Horn and I for the hills of Wales In a train of golden cars the Emperor went above, for over me in my riding shot seven golden stars, as if while the great oaks stood, straining, creaking around, seven times the golden sickle flashed in the Druid wood. Covered on my back, untouched, my harp had hung; its notes sprang to sound as I took the blindfold track, the road that runs from tales, through the darkness where Circe’s son sings to the truants of towns in a forest of nightingales. The beast ran in the wood that had lost the man’s mind; on a path harder than death spectral shapes stood propped against trees; they gazed as I rode by; fast after me poured the light of flooding seas. But I was Druid-sprung; I cast my heart in the way; all the Mercy I called to give courage to my tongue. As I came by Broceliande a diagram played in the night, where either the golden sickle flashed, or a signalling hand. Away on the southern seas was the creaking of the mast; beyond the Roman road was the creaking of the trees. Beyond the farms and the fallows the sickle of a golden arm that gathered fate in the forest in a stretched palm caught the hallows At the falling of the first chaos behind me checked; at the falling of the second the wood showed the worst; at the falling of the third I had come to the king’s camp; the harp on my back syllabled the signal word. I saw a Druid light burn through the Druid hills, as the hooves of King Arthur’s horse rounded me in the night. I heard the running of flame faster than fast through Logres into the camp by the hazels I Taliessin came. Charles Walter Stansby Williams's other poems: ![]() Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1367 |
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Английская поэзия |