David Herbert Lawrence (Дэвид Герберт Лоуренс)

Patience

A wind comes from the north
Blowing little flocks of birds
Like spray across the town,
And a train, roaring forth,
Rushes stampeding down
With cries and flying curds
Of steam, out of the darkening north.

Whither I turn and set
Like a needle steadfastly,
Waiting ever to get
The news that she is free;
But ever fixed, as yet,
To the lode of her agony. 

1. Submergence
2. Scent Of Irises
3. A Sane Revolution
4. Brooding Grief
5. Perfidy

Edith Wharton (Эдит Уортон) Patience ("PATIENCE and I have traveled hand in hand")

Распечатать (Print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1466

Последние стихотворения

To English version