воскресенье, 28 октября 2012 г.

A Dumb Poet


If
you leave
this strange island,
your
friends
and
sounds of native fields,
if
you cross
the cosmic world,
you
are unknown,
even
unnamed.
If
a lime tree
charms
you,
bent
with snowflakes
by
moonlight,
can you hear
the bell tolls
when
blind Lear
knoks
on the gate.
If
you feel
something
more
than
life
or
death
in a mortal’s mind,
you needn’t write
any more
you
are
yourself
a live poem.
Someone
in this world
will understand
you,
in your silence
a dumb poet.

Комментариев нет:

Отправить комментарий