III

The moon lies back and reddens.

In the valley, a corncrake calls

Monotonously,

With a piteous, unalterable plaint, that deadens

My confident activity:

With a hoarse, insistent request that falls

Unweariedly, unweariedly,

Asking something more of me,

Yet more of me!

Love Poems and Others · 第 15 / 52 题