Эдвард Эстлин Каммингс (Edward Estlin Cummings)

* * *

i have found what you are like
the rain

        (Who feathers frightened fields
with the superior dust-of-sleep. wields

easily the pale club of the wind
and swirled justly souls of flower strike

the air in utterable coolness

deeds of gren thrilling light
                                        with thinned
newfragile yellows

                          lurch and press
—in the woods
                        which
                                  stutter
                                            and
                                                  sing
And the coolness of your smile is
stirringofbirds between my arms;but
i should rather than anything
have(almost when hugeness will shut
quietly)almost,
                      your kiss