Читать книгу Кошмар По-эта - Говард Лавкрафт, Говард Филлипс Лавкрафт, Adolphe de Castro - Страница 16

Стихотворения
Fungi from Yuggoth / Грибки с Юггота
VIII. The Port

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Ten miles from Arkham I had struck the trail

That rides the cliff-edge over Boynton Beach,

And hoped that just at sunset I could reach

The crest that looks on Innsmouth in the vale.

Far out at sea was a retreating sail,

White as hard years of ancient winds could bleach,

But evil with some portent beyond speech,

So that I did not wave my hand or hail.


Sails out of Innsmouth! echoing old renown

Of long-dead times. But now a too-swift night

Is closing in, and I have reached the height

Whence I so often scan the distant town.

The spires and roofs are there – but look! The gloom

Sinks on dark lanes, as lightless as the tomb!


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