William Butler Yeats (Уильям Батлер Йейтс)

Friends

  Now must I these three praise--
  Three women that have wrought
  What joy is in my days;
  One that no passing thought,
  Nor those unpassing cares,
  No, not in these fifteen
  Many times troubled years,
  Could ever come between
  Heart and delighted heart;
  And one because her hand
  Had strength that could unbind
  What none can understand,
  What none can have and thrive,
  Youth's dreamy load, till she
  So changed me that I live
  Labouring in ecstasy.
  And what of her that took
  All till my youth was gone
  With scarce a pitying look?
  How should I praise that one?
  When day begins to break
  I count my good and bad,
  Being wakeful for her sake,
  Remembering what she had,
  What eagle look still shows,
  While up from my heart's root
  So great a sweetness flows
  I shake from head to foot.

1. Against Unworthy Praise
2. Upon a House Shaken by the Land Agitation
3. The Collar-Bone of a Hare
4. These Are the Clouds
5. Two Songs from a Play

Emily Dickinson (Эмили Дикинсон) Friends ("Are friends delight or pain?")

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1737

Последние стихотворения

To English version