William Butler Yeats (Уильям Батлер Йейтс)

He Hears the Cry of the Sedge

I WANDER by the edge
Of this desolate lake
Where wind cries in the sedge:

Until the axle break
That keeps the stars in their round,
And hands hurl in the deep
The banners of East and West,
And the girdle of light is unhound,
Your breast will not lie by the breast
Of your beloved in sleep. 

1. The Pity of Love
2. The Dedication to a Book of Stories Selected from the Irish Novelists
3. The Lamentation of the Old Pensioner
4. To Ireland in the Coming Times
5. The Old Men Admiring Themselves in the Water

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1955

Последние стихотворения

To English version