Читать книгу The Mountainy Singer - Campbell Joseph, Joseph Campbell - Страница 24

Sleep, white love, sleep,

A cedarn cradle holds thee,

And twilight, like a silver-woven coverlid,

Enfolds thee.

Moon and star keep charmèd watch

Upon thy lying;

Water plovers thro’ the dusk

Are tremulously crying.

Sleep, white love mine,

Till day doth shine.

Sleep, white love, sleep,

The daylight wanes, and deeper

Gathers the blue darkness

O’er the cradle of the sleeper.

Cliodhna’s curachs, carmine-oared,

On Loch-da-linn are gleaming;

Blind bats flutter thro’ the night,

And carrion birds are screaming.

Sleep, white love mine,

Till day doth shine.

Sleep, white love, sleep,

The holy mothers, Anne and Mary,

Sit high in heaven, dreaming

On the seven ends of Eire.

Brigid sits beside them,

Spinning lamb-white wool on whorls,

Singing fragrant songs of love

To little naked boys and girls.

Sleep, white love mine,

Till day doth shine.