Aldous Huxley (Олдос Хаксли)

Revelation

At your mouth, white and milk-warm sphinx,
I taste a strange apocalypse:
Your subtle taper finger-tips
Weave me new heavens, yet, methinks,
I know the wiles and each iynx
That brought me passionate to your lips:
I know you bare as laughter strips
Your charnel beauty; yet my spirit drinks

Pure knowledge from this tainted well,
And now hears voices yet unheard
Within it, and without it sees
That world of which the poets tell
Their vision in the stammered word
Of those that wake from piercing ecstasies.

1. Minoan Porcelain
2. In Uncertainty to a Lady
3. The Elms
4. Private Property
5. Anniversaries

Robert Frost (Роберт Фрост) Revelation ("We make ourselves a place apart")

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1570

Последние стихотворения

To English version