Louis MacNeice: Все стихи поэта

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Star-Gazer

Forty-two years ago (to me if to no one else

The number is of some interest) it was a brilliant starry night

And the westward train was empty and had no corridors

So darting from side to side I could catch the unwonted sight

Of those almost intolerably bright

Holes, punched in the sky, which excited me partly because

Of their Latin names and partly because I had read in the textbooks

How very far off they were, it seemed their light

by Louis MacNeice

Snow

The room was suddenly rich and the great

bay-window was

Spawning snow and pink roses against it

Soundlessly collateral and incompatible:

World is suddener than we fancy it.

World is crazier and more of it than we think,

Incorrigibly plural. I peel and portion

A tangerine and spit the pips and feel

by Louis MacNeice

Bagpipe Music

It's no go the merrygoround, it's no go the rickshaw,

All we want is a limousine and a ticket for the peepshow.

Their knickers are made of crepe-de-chine, their shoes are made of python,

Their halls are lined with tiger rugs and their walls with head of bison.

John MacDonald found a corpse, put it under the sofa,

Waited till it came to life and hit it with a poker,

Sold its eyes for souvenirs, sold its blood for whiskey,

Kept its bones for dumbbells to use when he was fifty.

by Louis MacNeice

Prayer Before Birth

I am not yet born; O hear me.

Let not the bloodsucking bat or the rat or the stoat or the

club-footed ghoul come near me.

I am not yet born, console me.

I fear that the human race may with tall walls wall me,

with strong drugs dope me, with wise lies lure me,

on black racks rack me, in blood-baths roll me.

I am not yet born; provide me

by Louis MacNeice

The Sunlight on the Garden

The sunlight on the garden

Hardens and grows cold,

We cannot cage the minute

Within its nets of gold;

When all is told

We cannot beg for pardon.

Our freedom as free lances

Advances towards its end;

by Louis MacNeice