Читать книгу Cardos y lluvia - Kate Clanchy - Страница 25

Down the Canongate

down the cowgate

go vermilion dreams

snake’s tongues of bannerets

trumpets with words from their mouths

saying Praise me, praise me.

Up the Cowgate

up the Canongate

lice on the march

tar on the amputated stump

Hell speaking with the tongue of Heaven

a woman tide to the tail of a cart.

And history leans by a dark entry

with words from his mouth

that say Pity me, pity me but never forgive.