Edna St. Vincent Millay (Эдна Сент-Винсент Миллей)

Keen

Weep him dead and mourn as you may,
   Me, I sing as I must:
Blessed be Death, that cuts in marble
   What would have sunk to dust!

Blessed be Death, that took my love
   And buried him in the sea,
Where never a lie nor a bitter word
   Will out of his mouth at me.

This I have to hold to my heart,
   This to take by the hand:
Sweet we were for a summer month
   As the sun on the dry white sand;

Mild we were for a summer month
   As the wind from over the weirs.
And blessed be Death, that hushed with salt
   The harsh and slovenly years!

Who builds her a house with love for timber
   Builds her a house of foam.
And I’d rather be bride to a lad gone down
   Than widow to one safe home.

1. Three Songs from the Lamp and the Bell
2. Say What You Will, and Scratch My Heart to Find
3. Four Sonnets
4. The Dragonfly
5. My Heart, Being Hungry

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