Stephen Crane (Стивен Крейн)

* * *

I HEARD thee laugh,
And in this merriment
I defined the measure of my pain;
I knew that I was alone,
Alone with love,
Poor shivering love,
And he, little sprite,
Came to watch with me,
And at midnight
We were like two creatures by a dead camp-fire. 

1. The successful man has thrust himself
2. With eye and with gesture
3. On the horizon the peaks assembled
4. I stood upon a highway
5. Blustering God

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1408

Последние стихотворения

To English version