Искусствоед
Lawrence Durrell
The Daily Mirror
Writing this stuff should not have been like
Suicide over some ordinary misapprehension:
A man going into his own house, say,
Turning out all the lights before undressing,
At the bedside of some lovely ignoramus
Whispering: 'Tomorrow I swear is the last time.'
Or: 'Believe, and I swear you will never die.'
This nib dragged out like the late train
Racing on iron bars for the north.
Target: another world, not necessarily better,
Of course, but different, completely different.
The hour-glass shifting its trash of seconds.
If it does not end this way perhaps some other.
Gossip lying in a furnished room, blinds drawn.
A poem with its throat cut from ear to ear.
The Daily Mirror
Writing this stuff should not have been like
Suicide over some ordinary misapprehension:
A man going into his own house, say,
Turning out all the lights before undressing,
At the bedside of some lovely ignoramus
Whispering: 'Tomorrow I swear is the last time.'
Or: 'Believe, and I swear you will never die.'
This nib dragged out like the late train
Racing on iron bars for the north.
Target: another world, not necessarily better,
Of course, but different, completely different.
The hour-glass shifting its trash of seconds.
If it does not end this way perhaps some other.
Gossip lying in a furnished room, blinds drawn.
A poem with its throat cut from ear to ear.