Читать книгу #Sonnets - Lucien Young - Страница 6

I know what thou art thinking: why did I

These sonnets write in twenty seventeen?

Do I imagine there are people keen

To give my poor pentameter a try?

And, furthermore, who do I hope will buy

A book that doth the noble form demean

With subject matter frivolous, obscene

And quite impossible to dignify?

In truth, I needed it to occupy

My febrile brain, for what a year it’s been.

I thought I could, with verse iambic, pry

Some sense from nonsense, and our modern scene

Depict and mock, while using ‘thee’ and ‘thy’

In pages fit to rest by thy latrine.