English Poetry. Stephen Crane. A spirit sped. Стивен Крейн.

Stephen Crane (Стивен Крейн) * * * A spirit sped Through spaces of night; And as he sped, he called, ”God! God!” He went through valleys Of black death-slime, Ever calling, ”God! God!” Their echoes From crevice and cavern Mocked him: ”God! God! God!” Fleetly into the […]

English Poetry. Edward Thomas. A Gentleman. Эдвард Томас.

Edward Thomas (Эдвард Томас) A Gentleman ‘He has robbed two clubs. The judge at Salisbury Can’t give him more than he undoubtedly Deserves. The scoundrel! Look at his photograph! A lady-killer! Hanging’s too good by half For such as he.’ So said the stranger, one With crimes yet […]

English Poetry. Stephen Crane. To the maiden. Стивен Крейн.

Stephen Crane (Стивен Крейн) * * * To the maiden The sea was blue meadow, Alive with little froth-people Singing. To the sailor, wrecked, The sea was dead grey walls Superlative in vacancy, Upon which nevertheless at fateful time Was written The grim hatred of nature. Stephen […]

English Poetry. Stephen Crane. On the desert. Стивен Крейн.

Stephen Crane (Стивен Крейн) * * * On the desert A silence from the moon’s deepest valley. Fire rays fall athwart the robes Of hooded men, squat and dumb. Before them, a woman Moves to the blowing of shrill whistles And distant thunder of drums, While mystic things, […]

English Poetry. Stephen Crane. In the night. Стивен Крейн.

Stephen Crane (Стивен Крейн) * * * In the night Grey heavy clouds muffled the valleys, And the peaks looked toward God alone. “O Master that movest the wind with a finger, Humble, idle, futile peaks are we. Grant that we may run swiftly across the world To […]

English Poetry. Stephen Crane. In heaven. Стивен Крейн.

Stephen Crane (Стивен Крейн) * * * In heaven, Some little blades of grass Stood before God. “What did you do?” Then all save one of the little blades Began eagerly to relate The merits of their lives. This one stayed a small way behind, Ashamed. Presently, God […]