Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))

The Wound

I climbed to the crest,
And, fog-festooned,
The sun lay west
Like a crimson wound:

Like that wound of mine
Of which none knew,
For I’d given no sign
That it pierced me through.

1. The Chimes Play ‘Life’s a Bumper!’
2. Premonitions
3. The Hatband
4. The Oxen
5. Plena Timoris

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1986

Последние стихотворения

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