Rupert Chawner Brooke (Руперт Брук)

Waikiki

 Warm perfumes like a breath from vine and tree
   Drift down the darkness. Plangent, hidden from eyes,
   Somewhere an _eukaleli_ thrills and cries
 And stabs with pain the night's brown savagery.
 And dark scents whisper; and dim waves creep to me,
   Gleam like a woman's hair, stretch out, and rise;
   And new stars burn into the ancient skies,
 Over the murmurous soft Hawaian sea.

 And I recall, lose, grasp, forget again,
   And still remember, a tale I have heard, or known
 An empty tale, of idleness and pain,
   Of two that loved--or did not love--and one
 Whose perplexed heart did evil, foolishly,
 A long while since, and by some other sea.

1. The True Beatitude
2. He Wonders Whether to Praise or to Blame Her
3. Thoughts on the Shape of the Human Body
4. The Way That Lovers Use
5. Lines Written in the Belief That the Ancient Roman Festival of the Dead Was Called Ambarvalia

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1973

Последние стихотворения

To English version