Читать книгу Ирландский поэтарх - Уильям Йейтс - Страница 10

WHAT woman hugs her infant there?

Another star has shot an ear.

What made the drapery glisten so?

Not a man but Delacroix.

What made the ceiling waterproof?

Landor’s tarpaulin on the roof

What brushes fly and moth aside?

Irving and his plume of pride.

What hurries out the knave and dolt?

Talma and his thunderbolt.

Why is the woman terror-struck?

Can there be mercy in that look?