Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))

When Oats Were Reaped

That day when oats were reaped, and wheat was ripe, and barley ripening,
The road-dust hot, and the bleaching grasses dry,
I walked along and said,
While looking just ahead to where some silent people lie:

‘I wounded one who’s there, and now know well I wounded her;
But, ah, she does not know that she wounded me!’
And not an air stirred,
Nor a bill of any bird; and no response accorded she.

1. Afternoon Service at Mellstock
2. At the Word ‘Farewell’
3. The Supplanter
4. Evening Shadows
5. Sitting on the Bridge

Распечатать (Print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1323

Последние стихотворения

To English version