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  Poem: Looking for a Sunset Bird in Winter Приветствую Вас Гость | RSS

 
 


Looking for a Sunset Bird in Winter

(by Robert Frost)


The west was getting out of gold,

The breath of air had died of cold,

When shoeing home across the white,

I thought I saw a bird alight.

 

In summer when I passed the place

I had to stop and lift my face;

A bird with an angelic gift

Was singing in it sweet and swift.

 

No bird was singing in it now.

A single leaf was on a bough,

And that was all there was to see

In going twice around the tree.

 

From my advantage on a hill

I judged that such a crystal chill

Was only adding frost to snow

As gilt to gold that wouldn’t show.

 

A brush had left a crooked stroke

Of what was either cloud or smoke

From north to south across the blue;

A piercing little star was through.


 
 
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