Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))
I Am the One
I am the one whom ringdoves see Through chinks in boughs When they do not rouse In sudden dread, But stay on cooing, as if they said: ‘Oh; it’s only he.’ I am the passer when up-eared hares, Stirred as they eat The new-sprung wheat, Their munch resume As if they thought: ‘He is one for whom Nobody cares.’ Wet-eyed mourners glance at me As in train they pass Along the grass To a hollowed spot, And think: ‘No matter; he quizzes not Our misery.’ I hear above: ‘We stars must lend No fierce regard To his gaze, so hard Bent on us thus, – Must scathe him not. He is one with us Beginning and end.’
Thomas Hardy’s other poems:
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