Читать книгу THE JAMES JOYCE COLLECTION - 5 Books in One Edition - James Joyce, James Joyce - Страница 17

My dove, my beautiful one,

Arise, arise!

The night-dew lies Upon my lips and eyes.

The odorous winds are weaving

A music of sighs: Arise, arise,

My dove, my beautiful one!

I wait by the cedar tree,

My sister, my love, White breast of the dove, My breast shall be your bed.

The pale dew lies

Like a veil on my head.

My fair one, my fair dove, Arise, arise!