söndag 18 juni 2017

Poesi på en söndag

Foto: Sergio Vallé Duarte

The blue mist of after-rain
fills all the trees;

the sunlight gilds the tops
of the poplar spires, far off,
behind the houses.

Here a branch sways
and there
             a sparrow twitters.

The curtain's hem, rose-emboidered,
flutters, and half reveals
a brunt-red chimney-pot.

The quiet in the room
bears patiently
a footfall on the street.

Från "Cones" av Frank Stuart Flint (1885-1960)

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