Edna St. Vincent Millay (Эдна Сент-Винсент Миллей)

Eel-Grass

No matter what I say,
All that I really love
Is the rain that flattens on the bay,
And the eel-grass in the cove;
The jingle-shells that lie and bleach
At the tide-line, and the trace
Of higher tides along the beach:
Nothing in this place.

1. So She Came Back
2. The Last White Sawdust
3. When You, That at This Moment
4. Loving You Less Than Life
5. She Filled Her Arms with Wood

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1836

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