Stephen Crane (Стивен Крейн)

* * *

A spirit sped
Through spaces of night;
And as he sped, he called,
”God! God!”
He went through valleys
Of black death-slime,
Ever calling,
”God! God!”
Their echoes
From crevice and cavern
Mocked him:
”God! God! God!”
Fleetly into the plains of space
He went, ever calling,
”God! God!”
Eventually, then, he screamed,
Mad in denial,
”Ah, there is no God!”
A swift hand,
A sword from the sky,
Smote him,
And he was dead.

1. On the horizon the peaks assembled
2. The livid lightnings flashed in the clouds
3. The ocean said to me once
4. Walking in the sky
5. If there is a witness to my little life

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1661

Последние стихотворения

To English version