Katherine Mansfield (Кэтрин Мэнсфилд)
Spring Wind in London
I Blow across the stagnant world, I blow across the sea, For me, the sailor's flag unfurled, For me, the uprooted tree. My challenge to the world is hurled; The world must bow to me. I drive the clouds across the sky, I huddle them like sheep; Merciless shepherd-dog am I And shepherd-watch I keep. If in the quiet vales they lie I blow them up the steep. Lo! In the tree-tops do I hide, In every living thing; On the moon's yellow wings I glide, On the wild rose I swing; On the sea-horse's back I ride, And what then do I bring? And when a little child is ill I pause, and with my hand I wave the window curtain's frill That he may understand Outside the wind is blowing still; ...It is a pleasant land. O stranger in a foreign place, See what I bring to you. This rain--is tears upon your face; I tell you--tell you true I came from that forgotten place Where once the wattle grew,-- All the wild sweetness of the flower Tangled against the wall. It was that magic, silent hour... The branches grew so tall They twined themselves into a bower. The sun shown... and the fall Of yellow blossom on the grass! You feel that golden rain? Both of you could not hold, alas, (both of you tried, in vain) A memory, stranger. So I pass... It will not come again
Katherine Mansfield’s other poems:
885
