Искусствоед
Seamus Heaney
Poems 1965-1975
Wintering Out (1972)
Fireside
Always there would be stories of lights
hovering among bushes or at the foot
of a meadow; maybe a goat with cold horns
pluming into the moon; a tingle of chains
on the midnight road. And then maybe
word would come round of that watery
art, the lamping of fishes, and I’d be
mooning my flashlamp on the licked black pelt
of the stream, my left arm splayed to take
a heavy pour and run of the current
occluding the net. Was that the beam
buckling over an eddy or a gleam
of the fabulous? Steady the light
and come to your senses, they’re saying good-night.
Poems 1965-1975
Wintering Out (1972)
Fireside
Always there would be stories of lights
hovering among bushes or at the foot
of a meadow; maybe a goat with cold horns
pluming into the moon; a tingle of chains
on the midnight road. And then maybe
word would come round of that watery
art, the lamping of fishes, and I’d be
mooning my flashlamp on the licked black pelt
of the stream, my left arm splayed to take
a heavy pour and run of the current
occluding the net. Was that the beam
buckling over an eddy or a gleam
of the fabulous? Steady the light
and come to your senses, they’re saying good-night.