1 мин
Слушать(AI)Rain Towards Morning
The great light cage has broken up in the air, freeing,
I think, about a million birds whose wild ascending shadows will not be back, and all the wires come falling down.
No cage, no frightening birds; the rain is brightening now.
The face is pale that tried the puzzle of their prison and solved it with an unexpected kiss, whose freckled unsuspected hands alit.
Elizabeth Bishop
Elizabeth Bishop (February 8, 1911 – October 6, 1979) was an American poet and short-story writer. She was Consultant in Poetry to the Library o
Комментарии
Вам нужно войти , чтобы оставить комментарий
Другие работы автора
Cirque DHiver
Across the floor flits the mechanical toy,fit for a king of several centuries back A little circus horse with real white hair His eyes are glossy black He bears a little dancer on his back
Sandpiper
The roaring alongside he takes for granted, and that every so often the world is bound to shake He runs, he runs to the south, finical, awkward, in a state of controlled panic, a student of Blake The beach hisses like fat On his lef...
Sestina
September rain falls on the house In the failing light, the old grandmothersits in the kitchen with the childbeside the Little Marvel Stove,reading the jokes from the almanac,laughing and talking to hide her tears She thinks that her equ...
Cape Breton
Out on the high bird islands, Ciboux and Hertford, the razorbill auks and the silly-looking puffins all stand with their backs to the mainland in solemn, uneven lines along the cliff's brown grass-frayed edge, while the few sheep pastu...