Сонет N 47 Дождь по крыше

Edna St. Vincent Millay

 

The last white sawdust on the floor was grown

Gray as the first, so long had he been ill;

The axe was nodding in the block; fresh-blown

And foreign came the rain across the sill,

But on the roof so steadily it drummed

She could not think a time it might not be -

In hazy summer, when the hot air hummed

With mowing, and locusts rising raspingly,

When that small bird with iridescent wings

And long incredible sudden silver tongue

Had just flashed (and yet maybe not!) among

The dwarf nasturtiums - when no sagging springs

Of shower were in the whole bright sky, somehow

Upon this roof the rain would drum as it was drumming now.

 

из цикла семнадцати сонетов: "an Ungrafted Tree"