Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))

When Dead

To –––

It will be much better when
I am under the bough;
I shall be more myself, Dear, then,
Than I am now.

No sign of querulousness
To wear you out
Shall I show there: strivings and stress
Be quite without.

This fleeting life-brief blight
Will have gone past
When I resume my old and right
Place in the Vast.

And when you come to me
To show you true,
Doubt not I shall infallibly
Be waiting you.

1. Paying Calls
2. The Collector Cleans His Picture
3. The Peasant’s Confession
4. In Front of the Landscape
5. Joys of Memory

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1938

Последние стихотворения

To English version