반응형 The Darkling Thrush1 The Darkling Thrush, Thomas Hardy (어둠 속의 티티) I leant upon a coppice gate When Frost was spectre-grey, And Winter's dregs made desolate The weakening eye of day. The tangled bine-stems scored the sky Like strings of broken lyres, And all mankind that haunted nigh Had sought their household fires. The land's sharp features seemed to be The Century's corpse outleant, His crypt the cloudy canopy, The wind his death-lament. The ancient pulse of.. 2023. 5. 12. 이전 1 다음 반응형
