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Интересный и захватывающий антиутопический Роман. Интересная анаграмма - Аркадий Ренн - Айн Рэнд, видимо автор почерпнул антиутопичный настрой из ее п...
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Poems, 1908-1919
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But he believes
Who loves you with most intimate praise
That none on earth has ever gone,
In whom a cleanlier spirit shone.
You may be unremembered when
Our chronicles are piled in dust:
No matter than —
None ever bore a lordlier lust
To know the savour sweet or sour
Down to the dregs of every hour.
And this your epitaph shall be —
“Within life’s house her eager words
Continually
Lightened as wings of arrowy birds:
She was life’s house-fellow, she knew
The passion of him, soul and thew.”
LOVERS TO LOVERS
Our love forsworn
Was very love upon a day,
Bitterness now, forlorn,
This tattered love once went as proud a way
As any born.
You well have kept
Your love from all corrupting things,
Your house of love is swept
And bright for use; whatso each season brings
You may accept
In pride. But we?
Our date of love is dead. Our blind
Brief moment was to be
The sum, yet was it signed as yours, and signed
Indelibly.
LOVE’S PERSONALITY
If I had never seen
Thy sweet grave face,
If I had never known
Thy pride as of a queen,
Yet would another’s grace
Have led me to her throne.
I should have loved as well
Not loving thee,
My faith had been as strong
Wrought by another spell;
Her love had grown to be
As thine for fire and song.
Yet is our love a thing
Alone, austere,
A new and sacred birth
That we alone could bring
Through flames of faith and fear
To pass upon the earth.
As one who makes a rhyme
Of his fierce thought,
With momentary art
May challenge change and time,
So is the love we wrought
Not greatest, but apart.
PIERROT
Pierrot alone,
And then Pierrette,
And then a story to forget.
Pierrot alone.
Pierrette among the apple boughs
Come down and take a Pierrot’s kiss,
The moon is white upon your brows,
Pierrette among the apple boughs,
Your lips are cold, and I would set
A rose upon your lips, Pierrette,
A rosy kiss,
Pierrette, Pierrette.
And then Pierrette.
I’ve left my apple boughs, Pierrot,
A shadow now is on my face,
But still my lips are cold, and O
No rose is on my lips, Pierrot,
You laugh, and then you pass away
Among the scented leaves of May,
And on my face
The shadows stay.
And then a story to forget.
The petals fall upon the grass,
And I am crying in the dark,
The clouds above the white moon pass —
My tears are falling on the grass;
Who loves you with most intimate praise
That none on earth has ever gone,
In whom a cleanlier spirit shone.
You may be unremembered when
Our chronicles are piled in dust:
No matter than —
None ever bore a lordlier lust
To know the savour sweet or sour
Down to the dregs of every hour.
And this your epitaph shall be —
“Within life’s house her eager words
Continually
Lightened as wings of arrowy birds:
She was life’s house-fellow, she knew
The passion of him, soul and thew.”
LOVERS TO LOVERS
Our love forsworn
Was very love upon a day,
Bitterness now, forlorn,
This tattered love once went as proud a way
As any born.
You well have kept
Your love from all corrupting things,
Your house of love is swept
And bright for use; whatso each season brings
You may accept
In pride. But we?
Our date of love is dead. Our blind
Brief moment was to be
The sum, yet was it signed as yours, and signed
Indelibly.
LOVE’S PERSONALITY
If I had never seen
Thy sweet grave face,
If I had never known
Thy pride as of a queen,
Yet would another’s grace
Have led me to her throne.
I should have loved as well
Not loving thee,
My faith had been as strong
Wrought by another spell;
Her love had grown to be
As thine for fire and song.
Yet is our love a thing
Alone, austere,
A new and sacred birth
That we alone could bring
Through flames of faith and fear
To pass upon the earth.
As one who makes a rhyme
Of his fierce thought,
With momentary art
May challenge change and time,
So is the love we wrought
Not greatest, but apart.
PIERROT
Pierrot alone,
And then Pierrette,
And then a story to forget.
Pierrot alone.
Pierrette among the apple boughs
Come down and take a Pierrot’s kiss,
The moon is white upon your brows,
Pierrette among the apple boughs,
Your lips are cold, and I would set
A rose upon your lips, Pierrette,
A rosy kiss,
Pierrette, Pierrette.
And then Pierrette.
I’ve left my apple boughs, Pierrot,
A shadow now is on my face,
But still my lips are cold, and O
No rose is on my lips, Pierrot,
You laugh, and then you pass away
Among the scented leaves of May,
And on my face
The shadows stay.
And then a story to forget.
The petals fall upon the grass,
And I am crying in the dark,
The clouds above the white moon pass —
My tears are falling on the grass;
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Интересный и захватывающий антиутопический Роман. Интересная анаграмма - Аркадий Ренн - Айн Рэнд, видимо автор почерпнул антиутопичный настрой из ее п...
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