European Elegies/Autumn (1)/Grey hours
3.GREY HOURS
Grey hours of grieving, grey as falling night,
Enfold my brain. . .cold, livid snake-coils cleaving
Clammily round my heart and with their weaving
Waking old wounds of weariness and fright
And stifling hope and faith with slimy might—
Grey hours of grieving.
Enfold my brain. . .cold, livid snake-coils cleaving
Clammily round my heart and with their weaving
Waking old wounds of weariness and fright
And stifling hope and faith with slimy might—
Grey hours of grieving.
Sombre as storm-wrack o'er bright plains upheaving,
Blotting the blue from out the gleaming height,
They bring my life its cup of aconite—
Grey hours of grieving.
Blotting the blue from out the gleaming height,
They bring my life its cup of aconite—
Grey hours of grieving.
I loved with untold love, and fate's bereaving
Leaves me to mourn to-day untold delight:
Crushed daily by a serpent parasite,
Dazed daily by a poison past relieving—
Grey hours of grieving.
Leaves me to mourn to-day untold delight:
Crushed daily by a serpent parasite,
Dazed daily by a poison past relieving—
Grey hours of grieving.
From the Polish of W. Nawrocki.