|
Главная • Биографии • Стихи по темам • Случайное стихотворение • Переводчики • Ссылки • Антологии Рейтинг поэтов • Рейтинг стихотворений |
|
Arthur Conan Doyle (Артур Конан Дойль) «Songs of the Road» (1911). 25. A Voyage 1909 Breathing the stale and stuffy air Of office or consulting room, Our thoughts will wander back to where We heard the low Atlantic boom, And, creaming underneath our screw, We watched the swirling waters break, Silver filagrees on blue Spreading fan-wise in our wake. Cribbed within the city's fold, Fettered to our daily round, We'll conjure up the haze of gold Which ringed the wide horizon round. And still we'll break the sordid day By fleeting visions far and fair, The silver shield of Vigo Bay, The long brown cliff of Finisterre. Where once the Roman galley sped, Or Moorish corsair spread his sail, By wooded shore, or sunlit head, By barren hill or sea-washed vale We took our way. But we can swear, That many countries we have scanned, But never one that could compare With our own island mother-land. The dream is o'er. No more we view The shores of Christian or of Turk, But turning to our tasks anew, We bend us to our wonted work. But there will come to you and me Some glimpse of spacious days gone by, The wide, wide stretches of the sea, The mighty curtain of the sky, Arthur Conan Doyle's other poems:
Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1428 |
||
Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |