Читать книгу Collected Poems: Volume One - Alfred Noyes - Страница 21

When the firelight, red and clear,

Flutters in the black wet pane,

It is very good to hear

Howling winds and trotting rain:

It is very good indeed,

When the nights are dark and cold,

Near the friendly hearth to read

Tales of ghosts and buried gold.

So with cozy toes and hands

We were dreaming, just like you;

Till we thought of palmy lands

Coloured like a cockatoo;

All in drowsy nursery nooks

Near the clutching fire we sat,

Searching quaint old story-books

Piled upon the furry mat.

Something haunted us that night

Like a half-remembered name;

Worn old pages in that light

Seemed the same, yet not the same:

Curling in the pleasant heat

Smoothly as a shell-shaped fan,

O, they breathed and smelt so sweet

When we turned to Old Japan!

Suddenly we thought we heard

Someone tapping on the wall,

Tapping, tapping like a bird.

Then a panel seemed to fall

Quietly; and a tall thin man

Stepped into the glimmering room,

And he held a little fan,

And he waved it in the gloom.

Curious red, and golds, and greens

Danced before our startled eyes,

Birds from painted Indian screens,

Beads, and shells, and dragon-flies;

Wings, and flowers, and scent, and flame,

Fans and fish and heliotrope;

Till the magic air became

Like a dream kaleidoscope.

Then he told us of a land

Far across a fairy sea;

And he waved his thin white hand

Like a flower, melodiously;

While a red and blue macaw

Perched upon his pointed head,

And as in a dream, we saw

All the curious things he said.

Tucked in tiny palanquins,

Magically swinging there,

Flowery-kirtled mandarins

Floated through the scented air; Wandering dogs and prowling cats

Grinned at fish in painted lakes;

Cross-legged conjurers on mats

Fluted low to listening snakes.

Fat black bonzes on the shore

Watched where singing, faint and far,

Boys in long blue garments bore

Roses in a golden jar.

While at carven dragon ships

Floating o'er that silent sea,

Squat-limbed gods with dreadful lips

Leered and smiled mysteriously.

Like an idol, shrined alone,

Watched by secret oval eyes,

Where the ruby wishing-stone

Smouldering in the darkness lies,

Anyone that wanted things

Touched the jewel and they came;

We were wealthier than kings

Could we only do the same.

Yes; we knew a hundred ways

We might use it if we could;

To be happy all our days

As an Indian in a wood;

No more daily lesson task,

No more sorrow, no more care;

So we thought that we would ask

If he'd kindly lead us there.

Ah, but then he waved his fan,

Laughed and vanished through the wall;

Yet as in a dream, we ran

Tumbling after, one and all;

Never pausing once to think,

Panting after him we sped;

Far away his robe of pink

Floated backward as he fled.

Down a secret passage deep,

Under roofs of spidery stairs,

Where the bat-winged nightmares creep,

And a sheeted phantom glares

Rushed we; ah, how strange it was

Where no human watcher stood;

Till we reached a gate of glass

Opening on a flowery wood.

Where the rose-pink robe had flown,

Borne by swifter feet than ours,

On to Wonder-Wander town,

Through the wood of monstrous flowers;

Mailed in monstrous gold and blue

Dragon-flies like peacocks fled;

Butterflies like carpets, too,

Softly fluttered overhead.

Down the valley, tip-a-toe,

Where the broad-limbed giants lie

Snoring, as when long ago

Jack on a bean-stalk scaled the sky;

On to Wonder-Wander town

Stole we past old dreams again,

Castles long since battered down,

Dungeons of forgotten pain.

Noonday brooded on the wood,

Evening caught us ere we crept

Where a twisted pear-tree stood,

And a dwarf behind it slept;

Round his scraggy throat he wore,

Knotted tight, a scarlet scarf;

Timidly we watched him snore,

For he seemed a surly dwarf.

Yet, he looked so very small,

He could hardly hurt us much;

We were nearly twice as tall,

So we woke him with a touch Gently, and in tones polite,

Asked him to direct our path;

O, his wrinkled eyes grew bright

Green with ugly gnomish wrath.

He seemed to choke,

And gruffly spoke,

"You're lost: deny it, if you can!

You want to know

The way to go?

There's no such place as Old Japan.

"You want to seek—

No, no, don't speak!

You mean you want to steal a fan.

You want to see

The fields of tea?

They don't grow tea in Old Japan.

"In China, well

Perhaps you'd smell

The cherry bloom: that's if you ran

A million miles

And jumped the stiles,

And never dreamed of Old Japan.

"What, palanquins,

And mandarins?

And, what d'you say, a blue divan?

And what? Hee! hee!

You'll never see

A pig-tailed head in Old Japan.

"You'd take away

The ruby, hey?

I never heard of such a plan!

Upon my word

It's quite absurd

There's not a gem in Old Japan!

"Oh, dear me, no!

You'd better go

Straight home again, my little man:

Ah, well, you'll see

But don't blame me;

I don't believe in Old Japan."

Then, before we could obey,

O'er our startled heads he cast,

Spider-like, a webby grey

Net that held us prisoned fast;

How we screamed, he only grinned,

It was such a lonely place;

And he said we should be pinned

Safely in his beetle-case.

Out he dragged a monstrous box

From a cave behind the tree!

It had four-and-twenty locks,

But he could not find the key,

And his face grew very pale

When a sudden voice began

Drawing nearer through the vale,

Singing songs of Old Japan,