Последний отзыв
Книга дельная. Без воды, приводятся реальные кейсы и способы их разрешения. Много практичных полезных советов и методик. Кое-что уже испробовала в дел...
Далее
По всем вопросам обращайтесь на: info@litportal.ru
(©) 2003-2025.
✖
Lays and Legends (Second Series)
Настройки чтения
Размер шрифта
Высота строк
Поля
Sometimes I almost caught the tune,
Then changing lights across the sky,
Turned gray morn to red afternoon,
I had to drop my brush too soon,
Lay the transfigured palette by.
That woman did not kneel on there,
When once my back was turned, I know,
She used to leave the broken chair
And show her face and its despair:
Oh – if I could have seen her so!
About her neck child-arms clung close,
Close to her heart the child-heart crept,
My room could tell you – if it chose.
There was a picture, then – God knows!
And I – who might have painted – slept.
Then when birds bade the world prepare
For dawn – ere yet the East grew wan,
She stepped back to the canvas there,
Wearing the look she will not wear
When eyes like yours and mine look on.
And when the mother kneeled once more,
While birds grew shrill, and shadows faint,
The child's white face the one look bore,
Which to my eyes it never wore,
Which I would give my soul to paint.
Hung, as you see – upon the line —
But when I laid the varnish on
And left my two – Fate laughed, malign,
"Farewell to that last hope of thine,
Thy chance of painting them is gone!"
A DIRGE IN GRAY
Larranagas! Thank you, thank you!
Not a knife. I never use one —
I've the right thing on my watch-chain
Which some fool or other gave me —
Takes the end off in a second —
Sharp as life bites off our pleasures.
See! The soft wreath upward curling,
Gray as mists in leaf-strewn hollows;
Blue as skies in mild October;
Vague, elusive as delight is.
Ah! what shapes the smoke-wreaths grow to
When they're looked at by a dreamer!
Waves that moan – cold, gray, and curling,
On a shore where gray rocks break them;
Skies where gray and blue are blended
As our life blends joy and sorrow.
Angel wings, and smoke of battles,
Lines of beauty, curved perfection!
Half-shut eyes see many marvels;
Gazed at through one's half-closed lashes
Wreaths of smoke take shapes uncanny —
Beckoning hands and warning fingers —
But the gray cloud always somehow
Ends by looking like a woman.
Like a woman tall and slender,
Gowned in gray, with eyes like twilight,
Soft, and dreamy, and delicious.
Through my half-shut eyes I see her —
Through my half-dead life am conscious
Of her pure, perpetual presence.
Then the gray wreaths spread out broadly
Till they make a level landscape,
Toneless, dull, and very rainy —
And an open grave – I saw it.
Through the rain I heard the falling
Of the tears the heart sheds inly.
Oh, I saw it! I remember
Leafless branches, dripping, dripping,
Through a chill not born of Autumn.
To that grave tends all my dreaming —
Oh, I saw it, I remember …
By that grave all dreaming ended!
THE WOMAN'S WORLD
Oh! to be alone!
To escape from the work, the play,
The talking, everyday;
To escape from all I have done,
And all that remains to do.
To escape, yes, even from you,
My only love, and be
Alone, and free.
Could I only stand
Between gray moor and gray sky
Then changing lights across the sky,
Turned gray morn to red afternoon,
I had to drop my brush too soon,
Lay the transfigured palette by.
That woman did not kneel on there,
When once my back was turned, I know,
She used to leave the broken chair
And show her face and its despair:
Oh – if I could have seen her so!
About her neck child-arms clung close,
Close to her heart the child-heart crept,
My room could tell you – if it chose.
There was a picture, then – God knows!
And I – who might have painted – slept.
Then when birds bade the world prepare
For dawn – ere yet the East grew wan,
She stepped back to the canvas there,
Wearing the look she will not wear
When eyes like yours and mine look on.
And when the mother kneeled once more,
While birds grew shrill, and shadows faint,
The child's white face the one look bore,
Which to my eyes it never wore,
Which I would give my soul to paint.
Hung, as you see – upon the line —
But when I laid the varnish on
And left my two – Fate laughed, malign,
"Farewell to that last hope of thine,
Thy chance of painting them is gone!"
A DIRGE IN GRAY
Larranagas! Thank you, thank you!
Not a knife. I never use one —
I've the right thing on my watch-chain
Which some fool or other gave me —
Takes the end off in a second —
Sharp as life bites off our pleasures.
See! The soft wreath upward curling,
Gray as mists in leaf-strewn hollows;
Blue as skies in mild October;
Vague, elusive as delight is.
Ah! what shapes the smoke-wreaths grow to
When they're looked at by a dreamer!
Waves that moan – cold, gray, and curling,
On a shore where gray rocks break them;
Skies where gray and blue are blended
As our life blends joy and sorrow.
Angel wings, and smoke of battles,
Lines of beauty, curved perfection!
Half-shut eyes see many marvels;
Gazed at through one's half-closed lashes
Wreaths of smoke take shapes uncanny —
Beckoning hands and warning fingers —
But the gray cloud always somehow
Ends by looking like a woman.
Like a woman tall and slender,
Gowned in gray, with eyes like twilight,
Soft, and dreamy, and delicious.
Through my half-shut eyes I see her —
Through my half-dead life am conscious
Of her pure, perpetual presence.
Then the gray wreaths spread out broadly
Till they make a level landscape,
Toneless, dull, and very rainy —
And an open grave – I saw it.
Through the rain I heard the falling
Of the tears the heart sheds inly.
Oh, I saw it! I remember
Leafless branches, dripping, dripping,
Through a chill not born of Autumn.
To that grave tends all my dreaming —
Oh, I saw it, I remember …
By that grave all dreaming ended!
THE WOMAN'S WORLD
Oh! to be alone!
To escape from the work, the play,
The talking, everyday;
To escape from all I have done,
And all that remains to do.
To escape, yes, even from you,
My only love, and be
Alone, and free.
Could I only stand
Between gray moor and gray sky
Другие электронные книги автора Эдит Несбит
Другие аудиокниги автора Эдит Несбит
Последний отзыв
Книга дельная. Без воды, приводятся реальные кейсы и способы их разрешения. Много практичных полезных советов и методик. Кое-что уже испробовала в дел...
Далее