1914, and Other Poems. Rupert Brooke
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Название: 1914, and Other Poems

Автор: Rupert Brooke

Издательство: Public Domain

Жанр: Зарубежные стихи

Серия:

isbn: http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/33902

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СКАЧАТЬ and fading shadows here;

      Never a tear, but only Grief;

      Dance, but not the limbs that move;

      Songs in Song shall disappear;

      Instead of lovers, Love shall be;

      For hearts, Immutability;

      And there, on the Ideal Reef,

      Thunders the Everlasting Sea!

      And my laughter, and my pain,

      Shall home to the Eternal Brain.

      And all lovely things, they say,

      Meet in Loveliness again;

      Miri's laugh, Teïpo's feet,

      And the hands of Matua,

      Stars and sunlight there shall meet,

      Coral's hues and rainbows there,

      And Teüra's braided hair;

      And with the starred tiare's white,

      And white birds in the dark ravine,

      And flamboyants ablaze at night,

      And jewels, and evening's after-green,

      And dawns of pearl and gold and red,

      Mamua, your lovelier head!

      And there'll no more be one who dreams

      Under the ferns, of crumbling stuff,

      Eyes of illusion, mouth that seems,

      All time-entangled human love.

      And you'll no longer swing and sway

      Divinely down the scented shade,

      Where feet to Ambulation fade,

      And moons are lost in endless Day.

      How shall we wind these wreaths of ours,

      Where there are neither heads nor flowers?

      Oh, Heaven's Heaven! – but we'll be missing

      The palms, and sunlight, and the south;

      And there's an end, I think, of kissing,

      When our mouths are one with Mouth…

      Taü here, Mamua,

      Crown the hair, and come away!

      Hear the calling of the moon,

      And the whispering scents that stray

      About the idle warm lagoon.

      Hasten, hand in human hand,

      Down the dark, the flowered way,

      Along the whiteness of the sand,

      And in the water's soft caress,

      Wash the mind of foolishness,

      Mamua, until the day.

      Spend the glittering moonlight there

      Pursuing down the soundless deep

      Limbs that gleam and shadowy hair,

      Or floating lazy, half-asleep.

      Dive and double and follow after,

      Snare in flowers, and kiss, and call,

      With lips that fade, and human laughter

      And faces individual,

      Well this side of Paradise!..

      There's little comfort in the wise.

Papeete, February 1914

      RETROSPECT

      In your arms was still delight,

      Quiet as a street at night;

      And thoughts of you, I do remember,

      Were green leaves in a darkened chamber,

      Were dark clouds in a moonless sky.

      Love, in you, went passing by,

      Penetrative, remote, and rare,

      Like a bird in the wide air,

      And, as the bird, it left no trace

      In the heaven of your face.

      In your stupidity I found

      The sweet hush after a sweet sound.

      All about you was the light

      That dims the greying end of night;

      Desire was the unrisen sun,

      Joy the day not yet begun,

      With tree whispering to tree,

      Without wind, quietly.

      Wisdom slept within your hair,

      And Long-Suffering was there,

      And, in the flowing of your dress,

      Undiscerning Tenderness.

      And when you thought, it seemed to me,

      Infinitely, and like a sea,

      About the slight world you had known

      Your vast unconsciousness was thrown…

      O haven without wave or tide!

      Silence, in which all songs have died!

      Holy book, where hearts are still!

      And home at length under the hill!

      O mother quiet, breasts of peace,

      Where love itself would faint and cease!

      O infinite deep I never knew,

      I would come back, come back to you,

      Find you, as a pool unstirred,

      Kneel down by you, and never a word,

      Lay my head, and nothing said,

      In your hands, ungarlanded;

      And a long watch you would keep;

      And I should sleep, and I should sleep!

Mataiea, January 1914

      THE GREAT LOVER

      I have been so great a lover: filled my days

      So proudly with the splendour of Love's praise,

      The pain, the calm, and the astonishment,

      Desire illimitable, and still content,

      And all dear names men use, to cheat despair,

      For the perplexed and viewless streams that bear

      Our hearts at random down the dark of life.

      Now, ere the unthinking silence on that strife

      Steals down, I would cheat drowsy Death so far,

      My night shall be remembered for a star

      That outshone all the suns of all men's days.

      Shall I not crown them with immortal praise

      Whom I have loved, who have given me, dared with me

      High secrets, and in darkness knelt to see

      The inenarrable godhead of delight?

      Love is a flame; – we have beaconed the world's night.

      A city: – and we have built it, these and I.

      An emperor: – we have taught the world to die.

      So, for their sakes I loved, ere I go hence,

      And the high cause of Love's magnificence,

      And to keep loyalties young, I'll write those names

      Golden for ever, eagles, crying flames,

      And set them as a banner, that men may know,

      To dare the generations, burn, and blow

      Out on the wind of Time, shining and streaming…

      These I have СКАЧАТЬ