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When the Leaves Fall

EN the leaves fall off the trees Everybody walks on them :

Once they had a time of ease High above, and every breeze Used to stay and talk to them.

Then they were so debonair As they fluttered up and down ;

Dancing in the sunny air,

Dancing without knowing there Was a gutter in the town.

Now they have no place at all !

All the home that they can find Is a gutter by a wall,

And the wind that waits their fall Is an apache of a wind.

#when#the#leaves#fall

James Stephens

James Stephens (9 February 1880[1] – 26 December 1950) was an Irish novelist and poet.

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When the Leaves Fall

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I saw God Do you doubt it Do you dare to doubt it I saw the Almighty Man

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To A Mouse

On Turning her up in her Nest, with the Plough, November 1785. Wee, sleeket, cowran, tim’rous beastie, O, what a panic’s in thy breastie! Thou need na start awa sae hasty,

The Walrus And The Carpenter

"The sun was shining on the sea, Shining with all his might: He did his very best to make The billows smooth and bright —

The Cremation of Sam McGee

There are strange things done in the midnight sun By the men who moil for gold; The Arctic trails have their secret tales That would make your blood run cold;

Смертник

Выстрел автоматов не затихнет И плач детей же не утихнет Сочувствие не успокоит матерей И столько слез пролито за потерей Невыносима учесть быть убитым

Суррогатное псевдоматеринство

Жаль

Зачеркни, удали, позабудь, Жаль, что имя нельзя изменить, Жаль, что стрелки нельзя повернуть, И огонь керосином залить.

When the Leaves Fall

James Stephens

Другие работы автора

The Snare

I hear a sudden cry of pain There is a rabbit in a snare: Now I hear the cry again, But I cannot tell from where

Insurrections

I saw God Do you doubt it Do you dare to doubt it I saw the Almighty Man

The Spring In Ireland 1916

Do not forget my charge I beg of you ; That of what flow'rs you find of fairest And sweetest odor you do gather Are best of all the best — a fragrant rose,

The Goat Paths

The crooked paths go every way Upon the hill — they wind about Through the heather in and out Of the quiet sunniness And there the goats, day after day, Stray in sunny quietness, Cropping here and cropping there, As they pause and turn a...

Сегодня читают

To A Mouse

On Turning her up in her Nest, with the Plough, November 1785. Wee, sleeket, cowran, tim’rous beastie, O, what a panic’s in thy breastie! Thou need na start awa sae hasty,

The Walrus And The Carpenter

"The sun was shining on the sea, Shining with all his might: He did his very best to make The billows smooth and bright —

The Cremation of Sam McGee

There are strange things done in the midnight sun By the men who moil for gold; The Arctic trails have their secret tales That would make your blood run cold;

Смертник

Выстрел автоматов не затихнет И плач детей же не утихнет Сочувствие не успокоит матерей И столько слез пролито за потерей Невыносима учесть быть убитым

Суррогатное псевдоматеринство

Жаль

Зачеркни, удали, позабудь, Жаль, что имя нельзя изменить, Жаль, что стрелки нельзя повернуть, И огонь керосином залить.