Читать книгу The Uncertain Land and Other Poems - Patrick O’Brian - Страница 10

The harsh dry polished rattle of the palm fronds

stirring in the breeze. I had supposed

But not our London sparrow, magpie, crow

Still less the stars by night, our Plough, old Bear

the same Orion, Rigal, Altair there

and through the trees the shining Procyon.