Томас Гарди (Харди) (Thomas Hardy)




Текст оригинала на английском языке

A January Night


(1879)

The rain smites more and more,
The east wind snarls and sneezes;
Through the joints of the quivering door
The water wheezes.

The tip of each ivy-shoot
Writhes on its neighbour’s face;
There is some hid dread afoot
That we cannot trace.

Is it the spirit astray
Of the man at the house below
Whose coffin they took in to-day?
We do not know.





Поддержать сайт


Английская поэзия - http://eng-poetry.ru/. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru