英语巴士网

Achill

分类: 英语诗歌 
 I lie and imagine a first light gleam in the bay

    After one more night of erosion and nearer the grave,

    Then stand and gaze from the window at break of day

    As a shearwater skims the ridge of an incoming wave;

    And I think of my son a dolphin in the Aegean,

    A sprite among sails knife-bright in a seasonal wind,

    And wish he were here where currachs walk on the ocean

    To ease with his talk the solitude locked in my mind.

    I sit on a stone after lunch and consider the glow

    Of the sun through mist, a pearl bulb containèdly fierce;

    A rain-shower darkens the schist for a minute or so

    Then it drifts away and the sloe-black patches disperse.

    Croagh Patrick towers like Naxos over the water

    And I think of my daughter at work on her difficult art

    And wish she were with me now between thrush and plover,

    Wild thyme and sea-thrift, to lift the weight from my heart.

    The young sit smoking and laughing on the bridge at evening

    Like birds on a telephone pole or notes on a score.

    A tin whistle squeals in the parlour, once more it is raining,

    Turf-smoke inclines and a wind whines under the door;

    And I lie and imagine the lights going on in the harbor

    Of white-housed Náousa, your clear definition at night,

    And wish you were here to upstage my disconsolate labour

    As I glance through a few thin pages and switch off the light.

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