William Butler Yeats (Уильям Батлер Йейтс)

Me Peacock

WHAT'S riches to him
That has made a great peacock
With the pride of his eye?
The wind-beaten, stone-grey,
And desolate Three Rock
Would nourish his whim.
Live he or die
Amid wet rocks and heather,
His ghost will be gay
Adding feather to feather
For the pride of his eye.
WHAT'S riches to him
That has made a great peacock
With the pride of his eye?
The wind-beaten, stone-grey,
And desolate Three Rock
Would nourish his whim.
Live he or die
Amid wet rocks and heather,
His ghost will be gay
Adding feather to feather
For the pride of his eye. 

1. The Dedication to a Book of Stories Selected from the Irish Novelists
2. The Pity of Love
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: 1863

Последние стихотворения

To English version