Lesbia Harford (Лесбия Харфорд)

The Invisible People

When I go into town at half past seven
Great crowds of people stream across the ways,
Hurrying, although it's only half past seven.
They are the invisible people of the days.

When you go in to town about eleven
The hurrying, morning crowds are hid from view.
Shut in the silent buildings at eleven
They toil to make life meaningless for you.

1. Suburban Dames
2. White Sunshine
3. Each morning I pass on my way to work
4. You, whom the grave cannot bind
5. How funny it would be if dreamy I

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1674

Последние стихотворения

To English version