Читать книгу Дикий ирис. Аверн. Ночь, всеохватная ночь - Луиза Глик - Страница 33

Sometimes a man or woman forces his despair

on another person, which is called

baring the heart, alternatively, baring the soul —

meaning for this moment they acquired souls —

outside, a summer evening, a whole world

thrown away on the moon: groups of silver forms

which might be buildings or trees, the narrow garden

where the cat hides, rolling on its back in the dust,

the rose, the coreopsis, and, in the dark, the gold

dome of the capitol

converted to an alloy of moonlight, shape

without detail, the myth, the archetype, the soul

filled with fire that is moonlight really, taken

from another source, and briefly

shining as the moon shines: stone or not,

the moon is still that much of a living thing.