Сонет N 62 Об умершем

Edna St. Vincent Millay

 

Gazing upon him now, severe and dead,

It seemed a curious thing that she had lain

Beside him many a night in that cold bed,

And that had been which would not be again.

From his desirous body the great heat

Was gone at last, it seemed, and the taut nerves

Loosened forever. Formally the sheet

Set forth for her today those heavy curves

And lengths familiar as the bedroom door.

She was one who enters, sly, and proud,

To where he husband speaks before a crowd,

And sees a man she never saw before —

The man who eats his victuals at her side,

Small, and absurd, and hers: for once, not hers, unclassified.

 

из цикла семнадцати сонетов: "an Ungrafted Tree"