Читать книгу Кошмар По-эта - Говард Лавкрафт, Говард Филлипс Лавкрафт, Adolphe de Castro - Страница 10

The daemon said that he would take me home

To the pale, shadowy land I half recalled

As a high place of stair and terrace, walled

With marble balustrades that sky-winds comb,

While miles below a maze of dome on dome

And tower on tower beside a sea lies sprawled.

Once more, he told me, I would stand enthralled

On those old heights, and hear the far-off foam.

All this he promised, and through sunset’s gate

He swept me, past the lapping lakes of flame,

And red-gold thrones of gods without a name

Who shriek in fear at some impending fate.

Then a black gulf with sea-sounds in the night:

“Here was your home,” he mocked, “when you had sight!”