Лесбия Харфорд (Lesbia Harford)

* * *

I dreamt last night
That spring had come.
Across green fields I saw a blur
Of crimson-blossomed plum.
I've never known
So fair a thing.
And yet I wish it were a dream
Of some forgotten spring.
Today the sun
Our workroom blest
And there was hard young wattle pinned
On our forewoman's breast.

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