The wind stood up and gave a shout.
He whistled on his fingers and Kicked the withered leaves about And thumped the branches with his hand And said that he'd kill and kill,
And so he will and so he will.
1 мин
СлушатьThe Wind
0
0
78
Подарок
James Stephens
James Stephens (9 February 1880[1] – 26 December 1950) was an Irish novelist and poet.
Другие работы автора
The Turn of the Road
I was playing with my hp alng th Just whr th bushs ar, whn, sunly, Thr am a shut, -- I ran away an Myslf bnath a bush, an wath t s What ma th nis, an thn, arun th bn,…
The Daisies
IN HE snt bu f th mrning—O, Whn th winy grass wnt rippling far, I saw my ar n walking slw, In th fil whr th aisis ar W i nt laugh an w i nt spak As w wanr happily t an fr; I kiss my ar n ...…
In The Poppy Field
Ma Patsy sai, h sai t m, That vry mrning h ul An angl walking n th sky; Arss th sunny skis f…
Hate
My nmy am nigh, An I Star firly in his fa My lips wnt writhing bak in a grima, An strn I wath him with a narrw y…
Комментарии
Вам нужно войти , чтобы оставить комментарий
