Сонет N 59 Кошмар ночи

Edna St. Vincent Millay

 

She had a horror he would die at night.

And sometimes when the light began to fade

She could not keep from noticing how white

The birches looked — and then she would be afraid,

Even with a lamp, to go about the house

And lock the windows; and as night wore on

Toward morning, if a dog howled, or a mouse

Squeaked in the floor, long after it was gone

Her flesh would sit awry on her. By day

She would forget somewhat, and it would seem

A silly thing to go with just this dream

And get a neighbor to come at night and stay.

But it would strike her sometimes, making tea:

She had kept that kettle boiling all night long, for company.

 

из цикла семнадцати сонетов: "an Ungrafted Tree"