Amy Lowell (Эми Лоуэлл)

Miscast II

My heart is like a cleft pomegranate
Bleeding crimson seeds
And dripping them on the ground.
My heart gapes because it is ripe and over-full,
And its seeds are bursting from it.
But how is this other than a torment to me!
I, who am shut up, with broken crockery,
In a dark closet!

1. Epitaph of a Young Poet Who Died Before Having Achieved Success
2. On Carpaccio’s Picture: The Dream of St. Ursula
3. The Cyclists
4. The Captured Goddess
5. Lead Soldiers

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1770

Последние стихотворения

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