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Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))


The Ballet


They crush together – a rustling heap of flesh –
Of more than flesh, a heap of souls; and then
They part, enmesh,
And crush together again,
Like the pink petals of a too sanguine rose
Frightened shut just when it blows.

Though all alike in their tinsel livery,
And indistinguishable at a sweeping glance,
They muster, maybe,
As lives wide in irrelevance;
A world of her own has each one underneath,
Detached as a sword from its sheath.

Daughters, wives, mistresses; honest or false, sold, bought;
Hearts of all sizes; gay, fond, gushing, or penned,
Various in thought
Of lover, rival, friend;
Links in a one-pulsed chain, all showing one smile,
Yet severed so many a mile!



Thomas Hardy's other poems:
  1. Lady Vi
  2. The Something that Saved Him
  3. The Chosen
  4. The Absolute Explains
  5. Song to an Old Burden


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