Edward Thomas: Все стихи поэта

Все стихи Оригиналы Переводы

« ‹ 1 2 3 4 5 › »

The Cherry Trees

The cherry trees bend over and are shedding,

On the old road where all that passed are dead,

Their petals, strewing the grass as for a wedding

This early May morn when there is none to wed.

by Edward Thomas

No One So Much As You

No one so much as you

Loves this my clay,

Or would lament as you

Its dying day.

You know me through and through

Though I have not told,

And though with what you know

You are not bold.

by Edward Thomas

Bob's Lane

Women he liked, did shovel-bearded Bob,

Old Farmer Hayward of the Heath, but he

Loved horses. He himself was like a cob

And leather-coloured. Also he loved a tree.

For the life in them he loved most living things,

But a tree chiefly. All along the lane

He planted elms where now the stormcock sings

That travellers hear from the slow-climbing train.

by Edward Thomas

Ambition

Unless it was that day I never knew

Ambition. After a night of frost, before

The March sun brightened and the South-west blew,

Jackdaws began to shout and float and soar

Already, and one was racing straight and high

Alone, shouting like a black warrior

Challenges and menaces to the wide sky.

With loud long laughter then a woodpecker

by Edward Thomas

Tall Nettles

Tall nettles cover up, as they have done

These many springs, the rusty harrow, the plough

Long worn out, and the roller made of stone:

Only the elm butt tops the nettles now.

This corner of the farmyard I like most:

As well as any bloom upon a flower

I like the dust on the nettles, never lost

Except to prove the sweetness of a shower.

by Edward Thomas

The Dark Forest

Dark is the forest and deep, and overhead

Hang stars like seeds of light

In vain, though not since they were sown was bred

Anything more bright.

And evermore mighty multitudes ride

About, nor enter in;

Of the other multitudes that dwell inside

Never yet was one seen.

by Edward Thomas

Like the Touch of Rain

Like the touch of rain she was

On a man's flesh and hair and eyes

When the joy of walking thus

Has taken him by surprise:

With the love of the storm he burns,

He sings, he laughs, well I know how,

But forgets when he returns

As I shall not forget her 'Go now'.

by Edward Thomas

Celandine

Thinking of her had saddened me at first,

Until I saw the sun on the celandines lie

Redoubled, and she stood up like a flame,

A living thing, not what before I nursed,

The shadow I was growing to love almost,

The phantom, not the creature with bright eye

That I had thought never to see, once lost.

She found the celandines of February

by Edward Thomas

As the Clouds that are so Light

As the clouds that are so light,

Beautiful, swift, and bright,

Cast shadows on field and park

Of the earth that is so dark,

And even so now, light one!

Beautiful, swift and bright one!

You let fall on a heart that was dark,

Unillumined, a deeper mark.

by Edward Thomas

But These Things Also

But these things also are Spring's -

On banks by the roadside the grass

Long-dead that is greyer now

Than all the Winter it was;

The shell of a little snail bleached

In the grass; chip of flint, and mite

Of chalk; and the small birds' dung

In splashes of purest white:

by Edward Thomas

April

The sweetest thing, I thought

At one time, between earth and heaven

Was the first smile

When mist has been forgiven

And the sun has stolen out,

Peered, and resolved to shine at seven

On dabbled lengthening grasses,

Thick primroses and early leaves uneven,

by Edward Thomas

Fifty Faggots

There they stand, on their ends, the fifty fag gots

That once were underwood of hazel and ash

In Jenny Pink's copse. Now, by the hedge

Close packed, they make a thicket fancy alone

Can creep through with the mouse and wren. Next spring

A blackbird or robin will nest there,

Accustomed to them, thinking they will remain

Whatever is for ever to a bird:

by Edward Thomas