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Ernest Christopher Dowson
1867-1900


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Êíèãà-ïî÷òîé


Spleen

(For Arthur Symons)

I WAS not sorrowful, I could not weep,
And all my memories were put to sleep.
 
I watched the river grow more white and strange,
All day till evening I watched it change.
 
All day till evening I watched the rain
Beat wearily upon the window pane.
 
I was not sorrowful, but only tired
Of everything that ever I desired.
 
Her lips, her eyes, all day became to me
The shadow of a shadow utterly.
 
All day mine hunger for her heart became
Oblivion, until the evening came,
 
And left me sorrowful, inclined to weep,
With all my memories that could not sleep.

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Êíèãà-ïî÷òîé


© 2000 Elena and Yacov Feldman