"yngad10" - читать интересную книгу автора (Benet Stephen Vincent)No herbage broke the barren flats of land,
No winds dared loiter within smiling trees, Nor were there any brooks on either hand, Only the dry, bright sand, Naked and golden, lay before the seas. One boat toiled noiselessly along the deep, The thirsty ripples dying silently Upon its track. Far out the brown nets sweep, And night begins to creep Across the intolerable mirror of the sea. Twice the nets rise, a-trail with sea-plants brown, Distorted shells, and rocks green-mossed with slime, Nought else. The fisher, sick at heart, kneels down; "Prayer may appease God's frown," He thinks, then, kneeling, casts for the third time. And lo! an earthen jar, bound round with brass, Lies tangled in the cordage of his net. About the bright waves gleam like shattered glass, And where the sea's rim was The sun dips, flat and red, about to set. The prow grates on the beach. The fisherman Shall pearls roll out, lustrous and white and wan? Lapis? carnelian? Unheard-of stones that make the sick mind reel With wonder of their beauty? Rubies, then? Green emeralds, glittering like the eyes of beasts? Poisonous opals, good to madden men? Gold bezants, ten and ten? Hard, regal diamonds, like kingly feasts? He tugged; the seal gave way. A little smoke Curled like a feather in the darkening sky. A blinding gush of fire burst, flamed, and broke. A voice like a wind spoke. Armored with light, and turbaned terribly, A genie tramped the round earth underfoot; His head sought out the stars, his cupped right hand Made half the sky one darkness. He was mute. The sun, a ripened fruit, Drooped lower. Scarlet eddied o'er the sand. The genie spoke: "O miserable one! Thy prize awaits thee; come, and hug it close! |
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