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Vachel Lindsay (Вэчел Линдсей)


Drying Their Wings


 What the Carpenter Said

THE moon's a cottage with a door.
Some folks can see it plain.
Look, you may catch a glint of light,
A sparkle through the pane,
Showing the place is brighter still
Within, though bright without.
There, at a cosy open fire
Strange babes are grouped about.
The children of the wind and tide--
The urchins of the sky,
Drying their wings from storms and things
So they again can fly. 



Vachel Lindsay's other poems:
  1. Sweet Briars of the Stairways
  2. Sweethearts of the Year
  3. How a Little Girl Sang
  4. Here’s to the Mice!
  5. The Scissors-Grinder


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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1724


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Английская поэзия