Ina Donna Coolbrith (Ина Донна Кулбрит)

Fruitionless

AH! little flower, upspringing, azure-eyed,
  The meadow-brook beside,
    Dropping delicious balms
    Into the tender palms
Of lover-winds, that woo with light caress,        
  In still contentedness,
Living and blooming thy brief summer-day:—
    So, wiser far than I,
    That only dream and sigh,
And, sighing, dream my listless life away.        

Ah! sweetheart birds, a-building your wee house
  In the broad-leavëd boughs,
    Pausing with merry trill
    To praise each other’s skill,
And nod your pretty heads with pretty pride;        
  Serenely satisfied
To trill and twitter love’s sweet roundelay:—
    So, happier than I,
    That, lonely, dream and sigh,
And, sighing, dream my lonely life away.        

Brown-bodied bees, that scent with nostrils fine
  The odorous blossom-wine,
    Sipping, with heads half thrust
    Into the pollen dust
Of rose and hyacinth and daffodil,        
  To hive, in amber cell,
A honey feasting for the winter-day:—
    So, better far than I,
    Self-wrapt, that dream and sigh,
And, sighing, dream my useless life away.

1. In Time of Storm
2. The Dancers
3. While Lilies Bud and Blow
4. At the Dawn
5. After the Winter Rain

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1712

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