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


* * *


Your face is like a chamber where a king
Dies of his wounds, untended and alone,
Stifling with courteous gesture the crude moan
That speaks too loud of mortal perishing,
Rising on elbow in the dark to sing
Some rhyme now out of season but well known
In days when banners in his face were blown
And every woman had a rose to fling.
I know that through your eyes which look on me
Who stand regarding you with pitiful breath,
You see beyond the moment’s pause, you see
The sunny sky, the skimming bird beneath,
And, fronting on your windows hopelessly,
Black in the noon, the broad estates of Death.



Edna St. Vincent Millay's other poems:
  1. I Shall Go Back Again
  2. The Wagon Stopped before the House
  3. Love Is Not Blind
  4. I Pray You If You Love Me
  5. The Light Comes Back with Columbine; She Brings


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Английская поэзия