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Eleanor Farjeon (Элинор Фарджон) White Horses Count the white horses you meet on the way, Count the white horses, child day after day, Keep a wish ready for wishing - if you Wish on the ninth horse, your wish will come true. I saw a white horse at the end of the lane, I saw a white horse canter down by the shore, I saw a white horse that was drawing a wain, And one drinking out of a trough: that made four. I saw a white horse gallop over the down, I saw a white horse looking over a gate, I saw a white horse on the way into town, And one on the way coming back: that made eight. But oh for the ninth one: where he tossed his mane, And cantered and galloped and whinnied and swished His silky white tail, I went looking in vain, And the wish I had ready could never be wished. Count the white horses you meet on the way, Count the white horses, child, day after day, Keep a wish ready for wishing - if you Wish on the ninth horse, your wish will come true. Eleanor Farjeon's other poems:
Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 2030 |
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Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |