Thomas Wyatt (Томас Уайетт)

Whoso List to Hunt

Whoso list to hunt, I know where is an hind,
But as for me, helas! I may no more.
The vain travail hath wearied me so sore,
I am of them that furthest come behind.
Yet may I by no means, my wearied mind
Draw from the deer; but as she fleeth afore
Fainting I follow. I leave off therefore,
Since in a net I seek to hold the wind.
Who list her hunt, I put him out of doubt,
As well as I, may spend his time in vain;
And graven in diamonds in letters plain
There is written, her fair neck round about,
'Noli me tangere, for Caesar's I am,
And wild to hold, though I seem tame.' 

1. My Lute Awake
2. The Furious Gun
3. Since so Ye Please
4. Of the Mean and Sure Estate
5. Lucks, My Fair Falcon

Распечатать (Print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 2219

Последние стихотворения

To English version