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Elinor Wylie (Элинор Уайли)


* * *


In our content, before the autumn came
To shower sallow droppings on the mould,
Sometimes you have permitted me to fold
Your grief in swaddling-bands, and smile to name
Yourself my infant, with an infant's claim
To utmost adoration as of old,
Suckled with kindness, fondled from the cold,
And loved beyond philosophy or shame.

I dreamt I was the mother of a son
Who had deserved a manger for a crib;
Torn from your body, furbished from your rib,
I am the daughter of your skeleton,
Born of your bitter and excessive pain:
I shall not dream you are my child again.



Elinor Wylie's other poems:
  1. Upon Your Heart, Which Is.the Heart of All
  2. The Little Beauty That I Was Allowed
  3. Absent Thee from Felicity Awhile
  4. What Other Name Had Half Expressed the Whole
  5. The Broken Man


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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1586


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Английская поэзия