The winds, tempestuous tyrants, are
So fierce to foam the sea;
A jumping boat is carving the waves
And nodding as if pleading…
The flocks of gulls will dominate
And crash the skyward force,
The boat bleached will be swept
And sink in the blue far-off.
The more distant is the shore,
The dimmer is the pier
Where the moss runs over the ancient stones,
The walls being seemingly fire…
The shades are playing tricky games
On monuments and domes.
The town-fort is all in sprays
Of the torquing waters, blows…
…A man is walking up the hill
And stretching you a hand.
This gesture is reflected in
the shopping windows’ gallery.
To greet the sailor on his return
Shall you and touch his sleeve.
The words are null but, all in all,
The troubles are the rear!
9.03.2025
Перевод стихотворения автора Евгения Блейк «Тиранит ветер южный форт». То есть своего собственного стихотворения
The tempestuous winds
© Copyright: Евгения Блейк, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125030905669
Свидетельство о публикации №125030905669
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