Искусствоед
Lawrence Durrell
Taormina
We three men sit all evening
In the rose-garden drinking and waiting
For the moon to turn our roses black,
Crawling across the sky. We mention
Our absent friend from time to time.
Some chessmen have tumbled over,
They also die who only sit and wait
For the new moon before this open gate.
What further travel can we wish on friends
To coax their absence with our memory —
One who followed the flying fish beyond the
Remote Americas, one to die in battle, one
to live in Persia and never write again.
She loved them all according to their need
Now they are small dust waiting in perfect heed,
In someone's memory for a cue.
Thus and thus we shall remember you.
The smoke of pipes rises in pure content
The roses stretch their necks, and there
She rises at last to lend
A form and fiction to our loving wish.
The legions of the silent all attend.
(from "Sicilian Carousel", 1977)
Taormina
We three men sit all evening
In the rose-garden drinking and waiting
For the moon to turn our roses black,
Crawling across the sky. We mention
Our absent friend from time to time.
Some chessmen have tumbled over,
They also die who only sit and wait
For the new moon before this open gate.
What further travel can we wish on friends
To coax their absence with our memory —
One who followed the flying fish beyond the
Remote Americas, one to die in battle, one
to live in Persia and never write again.
She loved them all according to their need
Now they are small dust waiting in perfect heed,
In someone's memory for a cue.
Thus and thus we shall remember you.
The smoke of pipes rises in pure content
The roses stretch their necks, and there
She rises at last to lend
A form and fiction to our loving wish.
The legions of the silent all attend.
(from "Sicilian Carousel", 1977)