I Les Silhouettes The sea is flecked with bars of grey, The dull dead wind is out of tune, And like a withered leaf the moon Is blown across the stormy bay. Etched clear upon the pallid sand Lies the black boat: a sailor boy Clambers aboard in careless joy With laughing face and gleaming hand. And overhead the curlews2 cry, Where through the dusky upland grass The young brown-throated reapers pass, Like silhouettes against the sky. II La Fuite de la Lune To outer senses there is peace, A dreamy peace on either hand Deep silence in the shadowy land, Deep silence where the shadows cease. Save for a cry that echoes shrill From some lone bird disconsolate; A corncrake4 calling to its mate; The answer from the misty hill. And suddenly the moon withdraws Her sickle from the lightening skies, And to her sombre cavern flies, Wrapped in a veil of yellow gauze.
English Poetry - http://www.eng-poetry.ru/english/index.php. E-mail firstname.lastname@example.org