Эпитафия человечеству Сонет 2
Костям отбеленным был скудный счёт
У юной смерти; - выходил с утра
В путь Динозавр, ходячая гора,
В росу жемчужную ронял помёт.
По волглой глине меж лесных щедрот
Шагал голодный, зная, что пора
Стеречь добычу так же, как вчера;
Довольный, засыпал, набив живот.
И точно в срок, желая длить свой род,
Клонила самка хвост тяжёлый вбок,
Вбирала семя; и, услышав плод
Живой во чреве, мастерила дом,
Гнездо для победителя ... не впрок:
Убиты эмбрионы ледником.
Epitaph for the Race of Man
By Edna St. Vincent Millay
II
When Death was young and bleaching bones were few,
A moving hill against the risen day,
The dinosaur at morning made his way,
And dropped his dung along the blazing dew;
Trees with no name that now are agate grew
Lushly beside him in the steamy clay;
He woke and hungered, rose and stalked his prey,
And slept contented, in a world he knew.
In punctual season, with the race in mind,
His consort held aside her heavy tail,
And took the seed; and heard the seed confined
Roar in her womb; and made a nest to hold
A hatched-out conqueror...but to no avail:
The veined and fertile eggs are long since cold.