(«Джон Донн уснул, уснуло всё вокруг…»)
И.Бродский
Deep silence.
Not even a leaf is astir.
The trees are at rest
looking idly towards the West
from their ground nest,
or at the East astern.
Dead breeze.
Pine-trees on a seashore
stretch their hands
with needles in spinous ends
scratching the air, and
guiding the show.
Everyone sleeps -
the sand and the sea,
the fishermen in boats,
the sun at the coast,
the skies with rain loads -
one might ever see.
All creatures:
no sound, no whistle,
no wings flopping,
no shell’s popping,
no wind’s cropping,
no any life enisled.
26.08.2020 г.
Nature sleeps
© Copyright: Серж Северодвинский, 2020
Свидетельство о публикации №120082606330
Свидетельство о публикации №120082606330
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