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

The Plaid Dress

Strong sun, that bleach
The curtains of my room, can you not render
Colourless this dress I wear?—
This violent plaid
Of purple angers and red shames; the yellow stripe
Of thin but valid treacheries; the flashy green of kind deeds done
Through indolence high judgments given here in haste; 
The recurring checker of the serious breach of taste?

No more uncoloured than unmade,
I fear, can be this garment that I may not doff;
Confession does not strip it off,
To send me homeward eased and bare;

All through the formal, unoffending evening, under the clean
Bright hair,
Lining the subtle gown. . .it is not seen, 
But it is there.

1. The Last White Sawdust
2. I Shall Go Back Again
3. She Filled Her Arms with Wood
4. Then Cautiously She Pushed
5. She Let Them Leave Their Jellies

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1855

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