Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))
To a Tree in London
(Clement’s Inn) Here you stay Night and day, Never, never going away! Do you ache When we take Holiday for our health’s sake? Wish for feet When the heat Scalds you in the brick-built street, That you might Climb the height Where your ancestry saw light, Find a brook In some nook There to purge your swarthy look? No. You read Trees to need Smoke like earth whereon to feed... Have no sense That far hence Air is sweet in a blue immense, Thus, black, blind, You have opined Nothing of your brightest kind; Never seen Miles of green, Smelt the landscape’s sweet serene.
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