Английская поэзия


ГлавнаяБиографииСтихи по темамСлучайное стихотворениеПереводчикиСсылкиАнтологии
Рейтинг поэтовРейтинг стихотворений

Countee Cullen (Каунти Каллен)


Simon the Cyrenian Speaks


He never spoke a word to me,
And yet He called my name;
He never gave a sign to me,
And yet I knew and came. 
At first I said, ”I will not bear
His cross upon my back;
He only seeks to place it there
Because my skin is black.”

But He was dying for a dream,
And He was very meek,
And in His eyes there shone a gleam
Men journey far to seek.

It was Himself my pity bought;
I did for Christ alone
What all of Rome could not have wrought
With bruise of lash or stone.



Countee Cullen's other poems:
  1. That Bright Chimeric Beast
  2. Youth Sings a Song of Rosebuds
  3. The Shroud of Color
  4. To Certain Critics
  5. The Loss of Love


Распечатать стихотворение. Poem to print Распечатать (Print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1174


Последние стихотворения


To English version


Рейтинг@Mail.ru

Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru