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Dorothy Parker (Дороти Паркер)


The White Lady


I cannot rest, I cannot rest
  In strait and shiny wood,
My woven hands upon my breast--
  The dead are all so good!

The earth is cool across their eyes;
  They lie there quietly.
But I am neither old nor wise,
  They do not welcome me.

Where never I walked alone before
  I wander in the weeds;
And people scream and bar the door,
  And rattle at their beads.

We cannot rest, we never rest
  Within a narrow bed
Who still must love the living best--
  Who hate the drowsy dead!



Dorothy Parker's other poems:
  1. Portrait of the Artist
  2. Chant for Dark Hours
  3. Unfortunate Coincidence
  4. НаблюдениеObservation
  5. I Shall Come Back


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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1570


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Английская поэзия