Читать книгу The Dark Star - Chambers Robert William - Страница 3

Where are you going,

Naïa?

Through the still noon —

Where are you going?

To hear the thunder of the sea

And the wind blowing! —

To find a stormy moon to comfort me

Across the dune!

Why are you weeping,

Naïa?

Through the still noon —

Why are you weeping?

Because I found no wind, no sea,

No white surf leaping,

Nor any flying moon to comfort me

Upon the dune.

What did you see there,

Naïa?

In the still noon —

What did you see there?

Only the parched world drowsed in drought,

And a fat bee, there,

Prying and probing at a poppy’s mouth

That drooped a-swoon.

What did you hear there,

Naïa?

In the still noon —

What did you hear there?

Only a kestrel’s lonely cry

From the wood near there —

A rustle in the wheat as I passed by —

A cricket’s rune.

Who led you homeward,

Naïa?

Through the still noon —

Who led you homeward?

My soul within me sought the sea,

Leading me foam-ward:

But the lost moon’s ghost returned with me

Through the high noon.

Where is your soul then,

Naïa?

Lost at high noon —

Where is your soul then?

It wanders East – or West – I think —

Or near the Pole, then —

Or died – perhaps there on the dune’s dry brink

Seeking the moon.