William Barnes (Уильям Барнс)

Third Collection. Me’th below the Tree

O when theäse elems’ crooked boughs,
A’most too thin to sheäde the cows,
Did slowly swing above the grass
As winds o’ Spring did softly pass,
An’ zunlight show’d the shiftèn sheäde,
While youthful me’th wi’ laughter loud,
Did twist his lim’s among the crowd
Down there below; up there above
Wer bright-ey’d me’th below the tree.

Down there the merry vo’k did vill
The stwonèn doorway, now so still;
An’ zome did joke, wi’ ceäsement wide,
Wi’ other vo’k a-stood outside,
Wi’ words that head by head did heed.
Below blue sky an’ blue-smok’d tun,
’Twer jaÿ to zee an’ hear their fun,
But sweeter jaÿ up here above
Wi’ bright-ey’d me’th below the tree.

Now unknown veet do beät the vloor,
An’ unknown han’s do shut the door,
An’ unknown men do ride abrode,
An’ hwome ageän on thik wold road,
Drough geätes all now a-hung anew.
Noo mind but mine ageän can call
Wold feäces back around the wall,
Down there below, or here above,
Wi’ bright-ey’d me’th below the tree.

Aye, pride mid seek the crowded pleäce
To show his head an’ frownèn feäce,
An’ pleasure vlee, wi’ goold in hand,
Vor zights to zee vrom land to land,
Where winds do blow on seas o’ blue:—
Noo wealth wer mine to travel wide
Vor jäy, wi’ Pleasure or wi’ Pride:
My happiness wer here above
The feäst, wi’ me’th below the tree.

The wild rwose now do hang in zight,
To mornèn zun an’ evenèn light,
The bird do whissle in the gloom,
Avore the thissle out in bloom,
But here alwone the tree do leän.
The twig that woonce did whiver there
Is now a limb a-wither’d beäre:
Zoo I do miss the sheäde above
My head, an’ me’th below the tree.

William Barnes’s other poems:

  1. Third Collection. Things do Come Round
  2. Third Collection. The Little Worold
  3. First Collection. Winter. Keepèn up o’ Chris’mas
  4. Third Collection. Comen Hwome
  5. Second Collection. Slow to come, quick agone




To the dedicated English version of this website