Текст оригинала на английском языке The Path to Sankoty It winds along the headlands Above the open sea— The lonely moorland footpath That leads to Sankoty. The crooning sea spreads sailless And gray to the world's rim, Where hang the reeking fog-banks Primordial and dim. There fret the ceaseless currents, And the eternal tide Chafes over hidden shallows Where the white horses ride. The wistful fragrant moorlands Whose smile bids panic cease, Lie treeless and cloud-shadowed In grave and lonely peace. Across their flowering bosom, From the far end of day Blow clean the great soft moor-winds All sweet with rose and bay. A world as large and simple As first emerged for man, Cleared for the human drama, Before the play began. O well the soul must treasure The calm that sets it free— The vast and tender skyline, The sea-turn's wizardry, Solace of swaying grasses, The friendship of sweet-fern— And in the world's confusion Remembering, must yearn To tread the moorland footpath That leads to Sankoty, Hearing the field-larks shrilling Beside the sailless sea. |
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