Stephen Crane (Стивен Крейн)

* * *

Once, I knew a fine song,
-- It is true, believe me --
It was all of birds,
And I held them in a basket;
When I opened the wicket,
Heavens! They all flew away.
I cried, ”Come back, little thoughts!”
But they only laughed.
They flew on
Until they were as sand
Thrown between me and the sky.

1. A spirit sped
2. On the horizon the peaks assembled
3. Walking in the sky
4. The livid lightnings flashed in the clouds
5. The ocean said to me once

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1705

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