Robert Lee Frost (Роберт Ли Фрост)

Now Close the Windows

Now close the windows and hush all the fields:
If the trees must, let them silently toss;
No bird is singing now, and if there is,
Be it my loss.

It will be long ere the marshes resume,
I will be long ere the earliest bird:
So close the windows and not hear the wind,
But see all wind-stirred.

1. Brown’s Descent
2. Pea Brush
3. The Pauper Witch of Grafton
4. The Star-Splitter
5. Reluctance

Распечатать (Print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1112

Последние стихотворения

To English version