1 мин
Слушать(AI)Full Moon and Little Frieda
A cool small evening shrunk to a dog bark and the clank of a bucket -And you listening.
A spider's web, tense for the dew's touch.
A pail lifted, still and brimming -
To tempt a first star to a tremor.
Cows are going home in the lane there, looping the hedges with their warmwreaths of breath -A dark river of blood, many boulders,
Balancing unspilled milk.'Moon!' you cry suddenly, 'Moon! Moon!'The moon has stepped back like an artist gazing amazed at a
That points at him amazed.
Ted Hughes
Edward James Hughes OM OBE FRSL (17 August 1930 – 28 October 1998) was an English poet, translator, and children's writer. Critics frequently ra
Комментарии
Вам нужно войти , чтобы оставить комментарий
Другие работы автора
Old Age Gets Up
Stirs its ashes and embers, its burnt An eye powdered over, half melted and solid Ideas that At the first touch of
Hawk Roosting
I sit in the top of the wood, my eyes closed Inaction, no falsifying Between my hooked head and hooked feet: Or in sleep rehearse perfect kills and eat
The Thought-Fox
I imagine this midnight moment's forest: Something else is Beside the clock's And this blank page where my fingers move
Lineage
In the beginning was Scream Who begat Blood Who begat Eye Who begat Fear Who begat Wing Who begat Bone Who begat Granite Who begat Violet Who begat Guitar Who begat Sweat Who begat Adam Who begat Mary Who begat God Who begat Nothing Who begat Neve...
