Читать книгу Cardos y lluvia - Kate Clanchy - Страница 11

It was the time of year

Pale lambs leap with thick leggings on

Over small hills that are not there,

That I climbed Eggardon.

The hedgerows still were bare,

None ever knew so late a year;

Birds built their nests in the open air,

Love conquering their fear.

But there on the hill-crest,

Where only larks or stars look down,

Earthworks exposed a vaster nest,

Its race of men long flown.