Dylan Thomas (Дилан Томас)

Twenty-Four Years

Twenty-four years remind the tears of my eyes.
(Bury the dead for fear that they walk to the grave in labour.)
In the groin of the natural doorway I crouched like a tailor
Sewing a shroud for a journey
By the light of the meat-eating sun.
Dressed to die, the sensual strut begun,
With my red veins full of money,
In the final direction of the elementary town
I advance as long as forever is.

1. Ceremony after a Fire Raid
2. Ears in the Turrets Hear
3. On No Work of Words
4. Lie Still, Sleep Becalmed
5. After the Funeral

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1799

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