Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))

The Robin

When up aloft
I fly and fly,
I see in pools
The shining sky,
And a happy bird
Am I, am I!

When I descend
Towards their brink
I stand, and look,
And stoop, and drink,
And bathe my wings,
And chink and prink.

When winter frost
Makes earth as steel
I search and search
But find no meal,
And most unhappy
Then I feel.

But when it lasts,
And snows still fall,
I get to feel
No grief at all,
For I turn to a cold stiff
Feathery ball!

1. The Dead Bastard
2. In Death Divided
3. Paths of Former Time
4. Silences
5. The Bad Example

Jones Very (Джонс Вери) The Robin ("Thou need'st not flutter from thy half-built nest")

Распечатать (Print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1355

Последние стихотворения

To English version