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


Travel


The railroad track is miles away, 
    And the day is loud with voices speaking, 
Yet there isn’t a train goes by all day 
    But I hear its whistle shrieking.

All night there isn’t a train goes by, 
    Though the night is still for sleep and dreaming, 
But I see its cinders red on the sky, 
    And hear its engine steaming.

My heart is warm with friends I make, 
    And better friends I’ll not be knowing; 
Yet there isn’t a train I’d rather take, 
    No matter where it’s going.



Edna St. Vincent Millay's other poems:
  1. So She Came Back
  2. The Last White Sawdust
  3. When You, That at This Moment
  4. She Filled Her Arms with Wood
  5. Memory of Cape Cod


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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1971


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Английская поэзия