The naked staghorn rising in the woods
may seem a dead tree.
When a heart of darkness bares itself in words
they scream: he's mad.
Когда рога оленя подымаются над зеленью,
Они кажутся засохшее дерево.
Когда сердце н<о>чери обнажено в словах,
Бают: он безумен.
«Where, my childhood’s home, art thou, / Warm beneath the hillock’s brow? / And my little blue, blue bud, / And the sand where no one trod? / Where, my childhood’s home, art thou? Past the river sings the cock. / There the shepherd grazed his flock / And amid the water’s play / ...»
«O fields of corn, O fields of corn. / An orphan’s grief is mine; / Heavy on my heart lies yesterday, / But in my heart you shine. The fleeting miles whistle like birds / About my horse’s mane, / And the sun is sprinkling lavishly / Her holy healing rain. O land of floods and agony ...»
«I call not Death the child of darkness, / Nor, with the fancy of a slave, / Give him a scythe to arm his starkness / Nor skeleton from out the grave. O offspring of the air our master, / O ornament with brilliant charms, / You bear no scythe that brings disaster / But peaceful olive in ...»
«I like a storm at May’s beginning. / When Spring’s first thunder with wild cries. / As though in frolic gaily spinning / Rumbles all round the pale-blue skies. Then the young thunderbolts are clanging. / Rain splashes, up the dust is borne. / From dripping boughs bright pearls are han...»