Edna St. Vincent Millay (Эдна Сент-Винсент Миллей)

* * *

Love is not blind. I see with single eye
Your ugliness and other women’s grace.
I know the imperfection of your face,--
The eyes too wide apart, the brow too high
For beauty. Learned from earliest youth am I
In loveliness, and cannot so erase
Its letters from my mind, that I may trace
You faultless, I must love until I die.
More subtle is the sovereignty of love:
So am I caught that when I say, “Not fair,”
’Tis but as if I said, “Not here--not there--
Not risen--not writing letters.” Well I know
What is this beauty men are babbling of;
I wonder only why they prize it so.

1. When You, That at This Moment
2. Then Cautiously She Pushed
3. She Let Them Leave Their Jellies
4. The Cairn
5. Sometimes When I Am Wearied

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