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

Inland

People that build their houses inland,
People that buy a plot of ground
Shaped like a house, and build a house there,
Far from the sea-board, far from the sound

Of water sucking the hollow ledges,
Tons of water striking the shore,—
What do they long for, as I long for
One salt smell of the sea once more?

People the waves have not awakened,
Spanking the boats at the harbour’s head,
What do they long for, as I long for,—
Starting up in my inland bed,

Beating the narrow walls, and finding
Neither a window nor a door,
Screaming to God for death by drowning,—
One salt taste of the sea once more?

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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