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Hilda Doolittle (Хильда Дулитл) * * * Wash of cold river in a glacial land, Ionian water, chill, snow-ribbed sand, drift of rare flowers, clear, with delicate shell- like leaf enclosing frozen lily-leaf, camellia texture, colder than a rose; wind-flower that keeps the breath of the north-wind -- these and none other; intimate thoughts and kind reach out to share the treasure of my mind, intimate hands and dear drawn garden-ward and sea-ward all the sheer rapture that I would take to mould a clear and frigid statue; rare, of pure texture, beautiful space and line, marble to grace your inaccessible shrine. Hilda Doolittle's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1206 |
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Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |