Читать книгу Bread and Circuses - Helen Parry Eden - Страница 16

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Pull out my couch across the fire, Let the flames warm me through, Though the pain gnaw my back away There shall be pleasure too!

Search out the desolate garden walks— What though the year be spent— There shall be marigolds enough For the bowl we bought in Ghent:

Fire shall bring out their acrid scents For a walled garden’s sweets, With the melody of Flemish bells And the angles of Flemish streets.

Fire and blossom and dreamful shapes And I, while the long pain stays, Ward off the shot of the savage hours On my rampart of yesterdays.