1 мин
Слушать

To Certain Critics

Then call me traitor if you must,

Shout reason and default!

Say I betray a sacred trust Aching beyond this vault.

I'll bear your censure as your praise,

For never shall the clan Confine my singing to its ways Beyond the ways of man.

No racial option narrows grief,

Pain is not patriot,

And sorrow plaits her dismal leaf For all as lief as not.

With blind sheep groping every hill,

Searching an oriflamme,

How shall the shepherd heart then thrill To only the darker lamb?

An oriflame is "any ensign, banner, or standard, esp. one that serves as a rallying point or symbol".

0
0
51
Подарок

Countee Cullen

Countee Cullen (born Countee LeRoy Porter; May 30, 1903 – January 9, 1946) was an American poet, novelist, children's writer, and playwright, pa…

Другие работы автора

Комментарии
Вам нужно войти , чтобы оставить комментарий

Сегодня читают

Твоя стихия.
Ворон
Пальчик дорогой
Ryfma
Ryfma - это социальная сеть для публикации книг, стихов и прозы, для общения писателей и читателей. Публикуй стихи и прозу бесплатно.