Английская поэзия


ГлавнаяБиографииСтихи по темамСлучайное стихотворениеПереводчикиСсылкиАнтологии
Рейтинг поэтовРейтинг стихотворений

Isaac Rosenberg (Айзек Розенберг)


First Fruit


I did not pluck at all,
And I am sorry now:
The garden is not barred
But the boughs are heavy with snow,
The flake-blossoms thickly fall
And the hid roots sigh, 'How long will our flowers be marred?'

Strange as a bird were dumb,
Strange as a hueless leaf.
As one deaf hungers to hear,
Or gazes without belief,
The fruit yearned 'Fingers, come!'
0, shut hands, be empty another year. 



Isaac Rosenberg's other poems:
  1. The Nun
  2. Sleep
  3. Girl To A Soldier On Leave
  4. God
  5. My Days


Распечатать стихотворение. Poem to print Распечатать (Print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1057


Последние стихотворения


To English version


Рейтинг@Mail.ru

Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru