Читать книгу The Parthenon - George Hobson - Страница 8

Art is given to hint at depths

Beyond the shallow pools

We spend our lives in,

Dull fools,

Mincing like waders when we might sprint

And plunge into the sea!

What is that deep sea?

The sweep of foam down a wave’s face

Pictures unsolicited grace

Rolling from eternity

To cover broken time.

The puffed cloud’s rhyme,

With chestnut trees

That caparison summer hills

And garrison the ripening fields,

Points to sublime structures of creation.

All speaks of relation,

Transformation,

Of inherent links

Binding galaxies to the pinks

That flower on the wall outside my house.

God’s grand art above

Crafts these paradigms:

Playful signs of Love

That our invention mimes.