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Stephen Crane (Стивен Крейн)


* * *


A youth in apparel that glittered
Went to walk in a grim forest.
There he met an assassin
Attired all in garb of old days;
He, scowling through the thickets,
And dagger poised quivering,
Rushed upon the youth.
”Sir,” said this latter,
”I am enchanted, believe me,
To die, thus,
In this medieval fashion,
According to the best legends;
Ah, what joy!”
Then took he the wound, smiling,
And died, content.



Stephen Crane's other poems:
  1. Many red devils ran from my heart
  2. A little ink more or less!
  3. There was set before me a mighty hill
  4. Blustering God
  5. Two or three angels


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