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

Low-Tide

These wet rocks where the tide has been,
Barnacled white and weeded brown
And slimed beneath to a beautiful green,
These wet rocks where the tide went down
Will show again when the tide is high
Faint and perilous, far from shore,
No place to dream, but a place to die,—
The bottom of the sea once more.
There was a child that wandered through
A giant’s empty house all day,—
House full of wonderful things and new,
But no fit place for a child to play.

1. Not Over-Kind nor Over-Quick
2. The Cairn
3. When You, That at This Moment
4. The Last White Sawdust
5. Tenderly, in Those Times

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1837

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